#test shoot with my mirror

[ancientstarrydynamo]

Don't Go in the Woods

[alygator77]

── try again

a/n. i've been sitting on wanting to create a small scene like this for a while now. so here ya go! lemme tell ya'll... breastfeeding is not always this magical and beautiful thing that people make it out to be. it hurts like hell, my bloody nipples can attest.

cw: domestic fluff. angst with comfort. satoru's trying to make breastfeeding easier for you.

“Satoru,” you whisper, voice tight with frustration. “She won’t latch.”

You’re trying not to cry.

Looking down at your newborn, you can see her frustration—tiny fists clenching, soft, hungry cries spilling from her mouth as she wriggles restlessly in your arms. You shift again, adjusting her position, cradling her closer, trying—begging—for something to click.

But it doesn’t.

Her mouth bobs and searches blindly, cheeks flushing red with effort, and the desperation building in her fragile little body mirrors your own.

“I—I don’t know what I’m doing wrong,” you choke out, blinking hard as tears blur your vision.

You’re exhausted. Beyond it. The sleepless nights at the hospital. Your body aches in places you didn’t even know could hurt. And this—this thing that was supposed to be natural, instinctual, beautiful—feels awkward and impossible—like a test you’re failing over and over again.

“Please, baby girl…” your voice trembles as you guide her to your breast one more time. “Just—c’mon—o-ow!”

She latches, but it’s wrong. A searing pain shoots through your chest and you flinch, instinctively pulling her away. Your nipple throbs—red, sore, screaming for relief. With a shrill cry, your baby’s tiny face crumples in protest, and your own tears finally fall—hot and helpless.

“Why is this so hard?” you whisper, voice cracking as you hold her close, shaking.

“Hey, hey… it’s okay. You’re doing everything right.”

Satoru's voice is low behind you—steady, but laced with worry.

His hands come to rest gently on your shoulders, warm and trembling, his thumbs moving in slow circles like he can massage away the frustration knotting in your muscles.

“She’s only a few days old…” he murmurs, leaning down to kiss the top of your head, lips lingering in your hair. “She’s still learning. Fuck… we are too.” He exhales shakily. “You’re doing the best you can, sweetheart. Please don’t be so hard on yourself.”

He straightens, blue eyes darting around the room like he’s searching for something—anything—to help.

“What can I do? Do you need anything? Where’s that—hang on—where’s that damn pillow thing…?” he mumbles, and you watch through watery eyes as he scrambles, clumsily grabbing the nursing pillow, adjusting it like he’s trying to solve a puzzle without the picture on the box. His movements are uncoordinated, frantic—but full of love.

Satoru kneels beside you as you try again, baby blue eyes flicking between your face and your daughter’s, willing the pieces to fall into place.

"C'mon baby girl... be nice to your momma for me, yeah?"

But when your little one latches again and you gasp, pulling her off with a pained cry, your resolve shatters.

“I—I can’t do it Satoru!” you say, brokenly. “I can't get her to latch, and when she does… it just hurts. So much.”

You feel like a failure. How can you not feed your baby?

As you look up at him through watery lashes, tears clinging to your cheeks, Satoru's expression cracks. He nods quickly, white brows furrowing as his lips press into a tight line, like he’s holding back the helplessness swelling in his chest.

“I know, baby. I know. Just… wait one sec.”

He’s on his feet in an instant, practically tripping over the edge of the rug as he rushes across the room. A moment later, he’s back—dragging a stool with one hand and clutching a spare pillow in the other. Dropping down in front of you, he crouches low, gently lifting your legs and placing them on the makeshift footrest.

“There,” he murmurs, positioning the pillow with care. “Put your feet up. Maybe if you’re more comfortable…”

Satoru fluffs the nursing pillow again with extra care, tucks the baby’s blanket around her tiny frame, then grabs your water bottle from the side table—uncapping it as he gently places it in your hand.

“C’mon momma... gotta stay hydrated.”

His voice is hushed, but purposeful. You sniffle, taking a sip of water, and he's shifting back toward the kitchen, glancing over his shoulder.

“Um… do you want a snack? I think there’s some of those lactation cookies in the kitchen…" his blue eyes flick back to you, and you see the gears turning in his head. "Or... I can make you something? Or—shit—I’ll Postmate something! What do you want? Fuck, I’ll Postmate everything if it’ll help.”

A tired, wet laugh escapes you—half amusement, half relief. “Great..." you wipe the tears from your eyes, smiling softly. "Now you’re spiraling too...”

He huffs out a sheepish breath, dragging a hand down his face as he plops beside you again. “Yeah… yeah, I am definitely spiraling.”

Reaching up, he brushes a damp strand of hair from your face, fingers grazing your temple with featherlight tenderness.

“You’re in pain...” he murmurs, blue eyes shimmering with concern. “And... I feel helpless just standing here. I can’t feed her. I can’t fix this…” he pauses, lips dropping into an exaggerated pout. “My nipples are completely useless, by the way.”

A choked, breathless laugh escapes through your tears, and his entire face softens at the sound, like it’s the only thing that’s mattered all day.

“What?” he grins. “It’s true. I’ve got nothing going on up here. Decorative at best. Yours, on the other hand—” he gestures with a flourish, “—doing heroic work. Damn sexy, too. Just sayin'.”

You roll your eyes through the blur of tears, laughing again, and lean into the warmth of his palm as it cradles your cheek.

It still hurts. You’re still exhausted, still raw, still aching in every possible way.

But in this moment—wrapped in Satoru's love, soothed by his gentle chaos and relentless care—you don’t feel quite so alone.

And somehow, with him by your side, you find the strength to try again.

And again.

And again.

Until finally… you get it right.

[tonycries]

Government Hooker - T.F.

Synopsis. With the fame and glory of being an international popstar comes the inevitable threat of an overzealous stalker. You just didn’t think that it would also come with a very sexy, buff bodyguard behind your every move.

Pairing. Toji Fushiguro x Reader

Content. MDNI, fem! reader, popstar! reader, bodyguard! Toji, unprotected, brat-taming, spanking, choking, rough oral (male + female receiving), slight enemies-to-lovers, jealousy (Toji’s side), daddy kink, semi-public sex, manager! Nanami, creampie, power dynamics, dirty talk, stalking threats, TW. knife (brief), swearing.

Word count. 10.8k

A/N.  WHEWWWWWWWWW need some buff bodyguard Toji in my life. Slightly inspired by The Bodyguard. Set in the Brooklyn Babyverse.

It’s in New York that you meet Toji Fushiguro.

Pop Princess’ World Tour in Jeopardy After Stalking Threats

Dark Times for Pop Royalty: Will She Return for This Year’s Grammy Performance?

Is It Over For The International Sensation?

“Nanami, for the millionth time, do I look like I need a babysitter?” you squint at the headlines flashing across your phone screen, resisting the urge to fling it at the nearest wall. 

Sitting right in the middle of your whirlwind dressing room, you breathe in the heady air, thick with hairspray and anticipation for the upcoming shoot. Normally, you’d preen at the stylists swarming around you - but right now, their fussing only makes it all the more difficult to drive your manager dangerously close to an aneurysm.

As expected, Nanami drones out the same rehearsed response you’ve memorized word-for-word at this point. “My apologies, but with the severity of these threats, we can’t-”

“Afford to take any chances, I know I know.” Still, heart sinking, you scoff, “I understand, but 24/7 surveillance is insane. Can’t I have any-”

Bang!

To your chagrin - and perhaps Nanami’s mercy - the door flies open with a force that rattles its hinges. 

As the bustling activity in the dressing room freezes, your eyes immediately snap to the hulking figure at the door. Expression steely and vigilant, he strides in with a presence that demands attention. You can’t help but raise a brow at his audacity - and the unreal rippling of his muscles beneath that skin-tight t-shirt. 

“Sorry to interrupt, but that blue-haired freak Mojito at the front desk told me to come here.” a low rumble sweeps the room. 

Ah, this must be the one. Gesturing your stylists away, you square your shoulders - ready for a fight. “And who might you be”

“Name’s Fushiguro Toji, your new ‘babysitter’, princess.” he declares, voice gruff and unwavering over Nanami’s tired hum of “Bodyguard, he means bodyguard”. 

You narrow your eyes, studying the pure disinterest on his face. Great, just what you needed - you didn’t claw your way to the top to be scared and controlled by some loser stalker. Tilting your head defiantly, “Hmm, you don’t look like much of a bodyguard.”

Toji’s lips twitch into a sardonic smirk, gaze meeting yours with a hint of challenge, “Mhm, and you don’t act like much of a princess.”

You could almost hear the record screech to a halt. Everyone holding their breath, eyes locked on you as an agonizing beat of silence passes, half the room on the verge of fainting.

One. Two.

A startled laugh bursts from your lips. Shattering the tension in that dressing room as swiftly as the mirror in your stylist’s hand would’ve had you remained quiet a second longer. 

The audacity of this man. No one’s ever spoken to you like that before. 

Toji’s grin widens at your unexpected reaction, that sinful little scar on his lips stretching in amusement. Some small, strange part of him satisfied at passing your invisible test.

“Well, look at that, didn’t expect ya to have a sense of humor.” he comments, tone positively dripping with sarcasm, as if toying with you.

Plastering on that painfully saccharine sweet smile usually saved for nosy interviewers, you mockingly bat your lashes. “And I didn’t expect to have a babysitter breathing down my neck.” 

“Oh don’t expect me to babysit, princess. I don’t get paid nearly enough for that. According to that hardass manager of yours, my job is to keep you safe. Whether you like it or not.” 

With a dismissive wave of your hand, you turn back to your make-up artist, clearly done with this tedious conversation. “We’ll see how long that lasts. I have a knack for losing unwanted company.”

And if there’s one thing you’ve come to learn with Toji Fushiguro, it’s that you do not have a knack for losing unwanted company. Especially not him. 

Wherever you went, Toji was there first - it didn’t matter how fast you escaped, or how many hats and masks you put on. He was everywhere.

He was there when you slipped away to swap sunglasses with a passing stranger, convinced you’d outsmarted your looming bodyguard. But your triumphant laugh caught in your throat as you heard that familiar chuckle behind you - whirling around to find him sporting your ill-fitting shades with an amused glint in his eyes.

He was there during a chaotic fashion show, where you blended seamlessly amongst the flurry backstage, hoping to escape Toji’s watchful gaze. Heart pounding, making it all the way to the elevator. You’d barely let out a breath of relief before large hands intercept the closing doors. Towering figure stepping inside with a knowing grin, “Going somewhere, princess?”

Hell, he was even there when you hatched a plan to ditch him on the tarmac of the bustling airport. Making a dash for your private plane, and settling into your plush seat with smug satisfaction. Ah, at least you’ll have a few hours of peace until Tokyo without-

“Damn, first class is nice. Must be nice to be pretty and rich.” a low whistle causes you to groan inwardly (and outwardly).

“You’ve got to be kidding me.” you mutter under your breath, at the man seated right beside you. At this point, you half expected him to be keeping guard outside as you shower.

Toji was always there. Steadfast as ever, firm chest always blocking whatever escape plan you’ve concocted. In all your years in the spotlight, you’ve never felt so frustrated. The dawning realization that there was no escape matching your slowly slipping sanity as you kick off the first stop of your world tour - Tokyo.

It’s in New York that you meet Toji Fushiguro.

It’s in Tokyo that everything changes. 

Electricity crackling in the air, deafening roars of your name in your ears - you stand center stage. This was where you belonged - where you felt alive. 

Pouring your soul into your words, stage lights dance across your skin, as frantic as the adrenaline in your veins. The crowd before you was a living, breathing entity, swept away with energy and excitement.

The music swells to a crescendo as your voice carries across the arena, limelight following you spellbound.

In the intoxicating performance, you don’t notice a pair of widened green eyes doing the same, goosebumps rising along his skin. Gaze fixed on you with an intensity that rivaled the spotlight itself. A silent reverie. 

As the final notes of your song echoed through the arena you felt a rush of euphoria wash over you. Lights dimming, you draw a long breath, savoring the crackling energy onstage. A high that left you craving for more.

With a grateful smile, you bow deeply, screams and applause reverberating in your ears like thunder. 

The cheers continue to ring in your ears as you’re whisked away, backstage buzzing with excitement and anticipation over the special guests for the VIP event. Enveloped by your team, you navigate through the labyrinthine corridors of the arena.  

You catch Toji’s eye from where he flanked your right, your brow raising ever-so-slightly as if silently asking, “C’mon, didn’t I kill it out there?” 

But before you can decipher the fleeting expression on his face, the moment is shattered by a sudden commotion up front. 

“Hey, over here! Is it true there's a stalker after you? Is it to boost album sales?”

“Can you confirm the rumors that you're cozying up with Satoru from Tokyo Special Grades? The fans want answers!”

“Hey! How do you respond to critics who call you a has-been? Come on, speak up!”

You’re barely given a second to breathe before the paparazzi descend upon you like vultures. Bodies jostling urgently as rapidfire questions and incessant flashes make you see stars behind your eyes. 

Trying to block out the swarm of questions, you close your eyes amidst the dizzying chaos, trying to find some semblance of stability.

And stability finds its way in the strong arm that wraps protectively around you, pressing you close against a sculpted chest.

Toji.

“Don’ worry, princess, I’ll get you outta here.” hot breath brushing against your ear, sending shivers creeping down your spine. 

Pulled impossible close to his muscled frame, his steady heartbeat grounds you - while yours stutters as Toji’s voice cuts through the clamor like a knife. “Back off, vultures. Show some respect or I’ll make sure ya regret it.” 

Steely gaze almost provoking - as if anyone would dare challenge the imposing, almost frightening presence in the middle of the room. The paparazzi, momentarily stunned, falter in their pursuit, allowing Toji to carve a path through the chaos.

Hands still tight around you, as you’re hastily escorted away from the chaos, you steal a glance at Toji’s profile, illuminated by the harsh flashes of the cameras. Finding some intrusive little part of you that thrills at the raw intensity, cheeks flaring in response.

He’s so warm. 

You could almost cry as those gaudy VIP doors swing open, swiftly ushering you to safety. They slam shut, sealing off the cacophony outside. In the soft lounge music wafting through the air, you’re left with the nagging awareness of Toji’s body heated against yours.

Embarrassment floods through you like a tidal wave as you register the way you’re still clinging on to him. Abruptly pushing away, you take a larger step back than was probably appropriate. 

In the dimly lit room, you couldn’t make out exactly what was twinkling in Toji’s eyes as they flicker to you. But what you could see was that amused grin curling his lips as you uncharacteristically stumble over your words, “Thank you- Uh, for the way I-”

“Princess~!” Words choke in your throat as a flash of white and blue barrels into you, sending you reeling backward. Playful laughter ringing through the air. 

“S-Satoru?” you stammer, caught off guard. Before you’ve fully recovered, he’s pulling you into a bruising hug, nearly knocking you off your feet. 

“Hey there, gorgeous,” Satoru purrs, voice velvety as he leans in. “You absolutely killed it out there tonight.”

“Oh my gosh, Satoru! I haven’t seen you in forever.” A laugh escapes your lips, though the lingering warmth from Toji’s proximity still prickles at the edges of your consciousness. “What are you even doing here?”

Satoru chuckles, gaze lingering on you, “Couldn’t miss the biggest concert in Tokyo since ours, duh.” His energy was infectious, and you find yourself smiling along. “Thank you Satoru.” 

As Satoru continues to chatter animatedly about the concert, you distinctly realize that Toji has slipped into the background. Where was he? You find your eyes darting around the room in search of his familiar presence, slowly noticing the lack of Satoru’s bandmates in the process.

Your curiosity piqued, you couldn’t resist teasing him. “So, where are the rest of Tokyo Special Grades? I thought you guys were inseparable”

He shrugs it off casually, leaning down to whisper conspiratorially “Rehearsal. Don’t let ‘em know I’m here.”

As you titter at his antics, he gives you a playful nudge, eyes twinkling with mischief. “So…since the band’s away, how about you and me grab a drink together?.”

Something heavy pools in your stomach as those familiar words ring in your ears, hanging in the air - you knew all too well what he meant. 

Skin still tingling with the lingering heat of Toji’s touch, your eyes sweep the room for him one last time. Some strange part of your heart pangs when you find that those piercing green eyes, always studying you so intently, are nowhere to be found.

“Lead the way, Satoru.”

---

The world was rocking, as were Satoru’s fingers on you. Softly tracing along your collarbone, touch searing as he pushes you against the wall of your hotel room. 

Shivers run down your spine, all the way to your heated core. Breaths mingling, a desperate hunger ignites in the air as your fingers just barely graze against the buttons of his overpriced button-up. 

Tension reaching its peak, fingers hazily fumbling with those tedious buttons-

Bang!

You both startle as the door swings open, breaking the heady atmosphere inside. Dazed, you whirl your head towards the intruder standing at the door - Toji. Seems he had a penchant for dramatic entrances. 

Toji stands in the doorway, his gaze dark and unreadable. Without a word, he strides into the room, narrowed eyes flickering between you and Satoru.

“What the hell is going on here?” Toji’s voice is low and dangerous, cutting through the tense silence hanging in the air.

Satoru tries to play it cool, though you catch his easy smirk faltering slightly, “Oh? The bodyguard, right? What brings you here, my man?”

Ignoring the question - and Satoru altogether - Toji turns to you, eyes never leaving yours. “24/7 means 24/7. As your bodyguard, I can’t permit some stranger to get too close.” he asserts.

Mind still burning with lust, you feel red-hot irritation simmering beneath your skin. Fists clenching at the tone that leaves no room for argument. 

“I don’t recall signing up for a warden.” you snap, sharp and defiant. 

Toji’s expression remains impassive, but there’s a glint of determination in his eyes. “I’m not here to argue, princess. My job here is just to keep you safe, princess.” 

You scoff, shaking your head in disbelief - this was ridiculous. “Uh, newsflash, Toji. I can take care of myself just fine.”

“You little brat-”

Before the argument can escalate further, Satoru cuts in, his voice uncharacteristically calm and conciliatory. “Hey, it's okay, man. I’ll just leave,” he says, stepping away from you and raising his hands in surrender.

You shoot Satoru a look of frustration, torn between the desire for independence and for someone to fucking make you cum, and the unsettling feeling of vulnerability that Toji’s presence somehow seems to evoke. As the door slams shut - not before a playful hum of “Call me, princess~!” - a deafening silence envelopes the room. 

The room that now feels too small. Too hot. Thighs still quivering in anticipation.

Shit. 

Mind racing, you don’t catch the way Toji’s gaze softens slightly, a hint of regret flickering in his eyes. “I’m sorry, princess. But I can’t take any chances, I’m here to protect you.” 

“Enough with this ‘princess’ crap.” Running a hand through your hair, you let out an exasperated sigh, trying desperately to quell the storm of emotions swirling uncomfortably inside you. “And protect me from what? A harmless hookup?”

“From whoever is sending those threats,” Toji growls. “Until we catch them, you’re not allowed to be alone with anyone.”

Frustration reaching a boiling point, you storm up to him. “Fine, then you can stay here and watch me 25/8 for all I care. But, what are you going to do about that?” each word punctuated by a hard poke to his sculpted chest, laced with defiance - but also something raw and primal.

Green eyes darkening with intensity, you watch his jaw clench in restraint. He takes a step impossibly close, the air crackling with something you couldn’t name.

“You don’t get to play games with me, princess,” he warns, his voice low and husky, sending a shiver down your spine.

But - as always - you refuse to back down. Heart racing, mind hazy, you stand close enough that you’re toe to toe with him. A hand reaching out to grasp his large ones, manicured nails digging into the heated skin. In one, fluid motion, you place his hand in between your skirt, heated core soaking through your thin panties. 

“I’m not playing games, Toji.”

Before you can react, your back hits the wall. Surface cool on your heated skin. A brick-hard body is against yours, you could almost sink into him at how close he was pressed. 

Heat rushing to your cheeks, slick gushing to your cunt, your eyes lock with Toji’s darkened ones. He murmurs, words low and making your pussy jump in anticipation, “Didn’t expect you to be so filthy, princess.”

You lean in, lips mere inches away from his, whispering seductively. “Oh you have no idea.”

You didn’t expect those to be the words that make him snap - then again, you didn’t expect him to snap so easily either.

Toji’s eyes widen slightly, his jaw dropping open as he processes your words. He stares at you darkly for a moment, gaze traveling over your flushed cheeks, your devilish grin, and finally settling on your heaving chest.

Toji pins your wrists above your head with one hand, the other roughly tearing your skirt off your waist. Flimsy cloth hitting the carpeted floor. 

“Hey! Those are Dolce and-”

You don’t get to finish your sentence before his lips capture yours. Words catching in your throat as his tongue plunges unforgivingly into your mouth. 

Hands groping and teasing every inch of skin they could find. Kneading your breasts through your shirt, biting down hard on your bottom lip.

A desperate whine that you definitely would’ve been embarrassed about had you been in the right state of mind leaves your lips as something achingly hard grazes your core. Shit, you had an inkling but he was going to split you apart. Mindlessly wondering whether you’ll have to cancel the photoshoot tomorrow. Hips bucking for more more more-

“Patience, princess.” he murmurs, hotly against your lips. Thick fingers slipping beneath your panties - ripping them off. You gasp as the cold air hits your cunt, thighs quivering at the neat fingernail grazing your swollen folds. “You need to be taught a lesson first.”

You’re not in the mood for patience. But whatever retort gets stuck on the tip of your tongue as a long finger circles your throbbing clit. Tight, urgent little circles that inch you closer and closer to insanity. “F-faster-”

“You’ll take what I give, my lil’ slut.”

“I don’t have to listen to you.”

Ah, but alas - thank god for Toji Fushiguro being a merciful man. At least for the moment.

Pressing a trail of hot, open-mouthed kisses down your body, dropping to his knees with urgency of a madman. Gaze fiery fiery with an intensity that sent shivers down your spine - you were in for it. 

Licking his lips, tongue catching on that small scar by the corner, he dives nose-deep into your needy pussy. Bed mere meters away, Toji takes you right against the wall. 

His hungry gaze devours you just as greedily as the mouth on your cunt. “Ah! Hah- Oh, Toji!” you gasp, arching into his hurried yet expert tongue. Harsh, purposeful movements that send electric shocks straight to your core. 

“Not Toji, princess.” he murmurs, lips hot against your own. Urgently lapping at your juices, as if a man dying of thirst.

Something hot and sticky coils at your stomach - maybe at the way his tongue was crooking just right to tease your dripping entrance, bullying its way past your swollen folds. Or maybe at the way the realization has your slick beading out of your pulsing pussy.

“D-daddy?” you whimper, almost-experimentally. 

And apparently it was the right answer, as Toji lets out a guttural groan into your snug cunt. Nose catching against your abused clit, rubbing hurried little circles. Tongue stretching out your snug walls, pooling your juices, unforgivingly dipping in and out in and out in and-

Speeding up now, his tongue has you losing your mind in ways you didn’t even know were possible. “Hngh- faster. Fuck me like you want it, daddy.” you whine, hips grinding further into his mouth.. 

And he lets you. In your lust-addled mind you barely have time to think about this strange act of mercy - only thinking of how close you were. So close. So fucking close. Mere moments away from shattering completely. Mind filled with only Toji and his tongue and Toji-

“Didn’t think I’d be so nice to ya, did you, princess?”

Orgasm slipping through your fingers, your crash from euphoria matches that of your heart.

Ah, Toji could cream his pants at the way your face fell so adorably as he pulled away. Delicate strings of spit and slick still connecting him to your slutty pussy. 

“Toji?” you mewl, bruised lips falling into a pretty pout that made him want to throw caution to the find and stuff you full of his cock right now. But no, he had to teach his lil’ princess a thing or two about not getting everything she wants.

“Patience, princess.” With a grin, Toji warns, voice husky and sending shivers down your spine and making you grind your hips against his lips. Before you can whine in disappointment, a sharp smack! cuts through the heady air. The sound hits you before the realization that Toji hit you. 

A sharp slap against your ass, the impact shocking you briefly before arousal takes over. You yelp at the sting, eyes widening in surprise.

“Wha-”

“Count to ten, then I’ll let you cum. You need to learn a thing or two about listening, brat.”

You stare at him defiantly, your heart pounding in your chest. A silent staredown that only makes heat pool more and more desperately at your core. Deafening need, slick dripping down your legs pathetically.

“O-one.” you whisper, voice strained with frustration and barely audible.

He watches you like a predator stalking his prey, eyes never leaving your face. Smack!

His hand connects with your ass again, a low hum of appreciation at the mewl leaving your kiss-bitten lips at the pain and filthy pleasure. Your ass stinging as much as your dripping cunt.

“...two.”

Apparently approving of your obedience, he dives back in with a low growl. Burning his face between your thighs, because fuck oxygen - breathing couldn’t compare to how sweet you were on his tongue.

Lapping up your sensitive folds, scar rough against them, teasing. Edging your climax and your sanity like the merciless bastard he was. Smack! 

“Hah- ah! Two- Oh, jus’ like that-” Broken, raw moans escape your lips as he continues his torture. Ah, he loved this view. The people’s princess, so teary and falling apart because of him.

In the obscenity of it all, thick fingers stuff themselves in your cunt. The lack of preparation makes you squeeze around Toji’s tongue as they pump into your sloppy hole relentlessly. In and out in and out- 

Smack!

“Th-three- hngh-”

Purposefully missing that one spot Toji knew would have you seeing stars. You haven’t earned that yet.

Blood rushes straight to his cock as you throw your head back, letting out a strangled sob. “Daddy, let me cum. Wanna cum on your tongue. Ah-” Oh, you clever minx, knew exactly what made his leaking cock throb with need. For that you get two sharp smacks on each cheek. 

“F-four. Five.” you’re in tears at this point. Delicate little streaks down your cheeks to where Toji had his face buried in your cunt.

“Tha’s right, princess.” Toji praises, voice thick with desire and sending vibrations that make your walls clench. “Tell me how badly you need it.”

Body convulsing uncontrollably around his hot tongue, pushing you closer and closer to the edge - only to reel you back again. Denying you. Chipping away at your sanity bit by bit. A hand reaches to grab a fistful of his silky black locks, tugging needily - and you get punished accordingly. 

Smack! Smack! Smack!

“E-eight! Hngh- please.” 

“Please!” you moan, voice raw with need and desperation. Finally breaking for him - being pushed this far with anyone before. “Please, let me cum. Please please wanna cum-.” Close. You were so close that it hurt.

Ever the merciful man, he forgives this little transgression. Only continuing to cup your sore cheeks possessively, hands mapping the expanse of your heated skin.

“Please, Daddy.” you choke, a broken whisper. Now exhausted, knees weakening, it’s all you can do to not collapse on the floor, Toji’s strong hold on your hip to control you being the only thing holding you up.

Several things happen at once. You barely even feel the final two, sharp slaps - too far gone to register anything other than the rough thumb pressing on your sensitive clit. Hard. 

And then you’re cumming. 

Body convulsing and bowing into him, crying out raw moans of Toji’s name as you cream around his tongue. Your vision blurs at the edges, grip searing on Toji’s hair, tangling in the soft strands and pulling him impossibly closer to ride out your high on his pretty face. 

White-hot pleasure courses through your entire body, thighs quivering delicately around his face as you chase peak after peak. 

As the stars behind your eyes disappear into nothingness, you’re left limp and boneless, held up against the wall with a single, muscled hand.

Toji - ever the gentleman, supports you with a steady arm before you slip down the wall, valiant knees finally giving out. 

Blinking your vision back, you catch a glimpse of his achingly hard erection. Straining painfully against his trousers, a dark patch right where his thick head was. And despite your severely fucked out state, your mouth still waters.

Obviously catching your line of sight, he adjusts his uncomfortably tight pants. Steering your still-lustfully delirious self to the bed. “You were such a good girl f’me, princess. Let’s stay that way, hm?”

You blink up at him, confusion clouding your mind. Did he just compliment you? You must be mistaken. 

But as you look into his eyes, you see a genuine twinkle of fondness mixed in with the desire that makes your skin burn. A heady combination. One that makes your mind spin, even as you’re carefully placed on the soft bed. Even as he swiftly closes the door with a low whisper of “Rest now, you’ve got a busy day tomorrow.” leaving no room for argument.

Sinking into the soft mattress, a strange surge of euphoria rushes through you as you realize two things:

Nothing would ever be the same. 

It was going to be your personal challenge to make Toji Fushiguro crack. 

Heart racing, feet thumping tersely against the plush carpet, for perhaps the first time in years, Fushiguro Toji is taken aback. The heavenly sight of you falling apart underneath him searing into his brain. Something coiling uncomfortably in his stomach, rushing all the way to his throbbing dick. But, right now, the only thing he’s thinking of being to fucking find somewhere to fuck his fist to the memory.

---

Your third night in Tokyo was a whirlwind of lights and camera flashes. And yet, in the midst of it all you still escaped - this time with Toji - claiming “security talks”. Pulling him into an abandoned green room, your glossy lips capture his with searing passion. Pulling away teasingly, breathless, only once you were sure you’d kissed him silly and achingly hard. And promptly skipping away to bother your make-up artist.

Ah, yet the stubborn bastard still didn’t crack.

It’s in Melbourne where you learned that Toji was much more than just a bodyguard. Finally bothering him enough to join you out rather than shadow you for the first time. Dragging him to a tiny karaoke booth tucked away in a dimly lit corner of town, belting out your favorite tunes to him while he leaned against the wall with his arms crossed. And if you caught a small smile tugging at the corners of his lips, well, neither of you said anything. 

Your glittering heels were placed teasingly in his lap, chattering away as he drove you two back, your favorite pastime as of late. A silent dare, almost goading. His steely gaze trained on the bustling road and that one annoying blue car trying to swerve him. 

“So, Toji, in your military stint ever tried to sneak away incognito but wear a disguise so bad you end up on the front page?”

He chuckles, eyes flickering down at your feet resting comfortably on him. “Can’t say I have, but I once mistook a high-ranking officer for a recruit. Had him doing push-ups before I realized my mistake.”

You burst into laughter, sound echoing in the car. Feet brushing against him right there - just a little accident, right?

But it takes until Paris for you two to break.

In the chic confines of your favorite studio in Nanterre, the scent of freshly brewed coffee heavy in the air, you find yourself chattering away on call with Gojo Satoru. His voice crackling through the speaker amidst the glow of studio lights.

“That beat you sent is pure magic, Satoru. It’s perfect!” you hum, excitement bubbling in your voice as you bob your head to the soft music playing in the background. 

Satoru’s response is immediate, enthusiasm matching yours, “See, what did I tell ya. Can’t wait to see what you’ll come up with. You sure I get no sneak peaks for this secret lil’ project of yours?”

“Absolutely not.”

“Thought so, but anyway, how’s the City of Love been treating you, darling?” he teases.

You laugh, rolling your eyes playfully, “Please, Satoru. You know I’m too busy dodging Toji for any of that.”

Satoru chuckles knowingly on the other end of the line, “Ah yes. From what happened last time, I imagine he’s been a welcome distraction, huh? Hey, is his dick really as big as his BDE is?”

“Oh fuck off.” you scoff, heat rising to your cheeks. “And for that, I’m leaving.” 

Swiftly ending the call, you cut off Satoru’s protests. Slight embarrassment coursing through your veins at how apparently obvious you two had been. A strange pang of longing flickers in your chest as you realize you haven’t seen Toji all day - Nanami mentioned something about a security briefing for your closely upcoming Grammy performance.

You sigh at the irony of the situation - just when you thought you got that freedom you’d been yearning for so long, you find yourself wanting for that musclehead presence even more. 

Shaking your head, you turn back to your mixing console, ready to throw yourself into the music once more. Yet before you could, your phone buzzes with a new notification. A quick glance reveals that familiar contact name and a series of messages that have your cheeks flaring once more. 

Blind rat #4 🧿🧿:

You better not block me for this but is this secret project for that bodyguard? You whipped WHORE~~

LMAO JKJK IK you don’t write songs about other people.

Unless…

As that block button was tapped, it’s said that Satoru’s piercing shriek echoed across in all 23 wards of Tokyo - making the people fear an oncoming Godzilla attack.

“Damn Satoru.” you grumble, tossing your phone onto the leather sofa in the corner. “Always saying stupid thi-”

But as you turn around, your breath catches in your throat. There, standing in the doorway, is Toji. His presence filling the space, commanding attention with an intensity that sends a shiver down your spine.

“Toji?” you breathe, surprise mingling with a rush of conflicting emotions. “I didn’t expect the briefing to end so soon-”

“What’s this about that brat Satoru, princess?” he murmurs, voice low and gravelly. 

He raises his head to meet your gaze, and a jolt of electricity runs through your body. Oh, those eyes. Your skin feels heated in the crackling air. “Nothing.” you reply - almost suspiciously quickly - the words tumbling out in a rush, “Just Satoru being...well, Satoru.”

Toji’s lips twitch in a semblance of a smile, a hint of amusement glinting in his eyes among that carnal look. “I see,” he murmurs, taking a step closer to you. You have half the mind to step back - but why would you ever.

“Y’know, I didn’t think you still talk with that white-haired clown.” his minty breath fans your face, darkened eyes searching yours. And you can see the question forming in them before he even asks. “You still plan on fuckin’ him when you go back to Tokyo?”

And usually you’d bristle. Usually, that hardened part of you that never takes shit would rear her head and give Toji an earful. Usually. But right now, a dangerous idea was taking root in your head. 

Heat rushing to your core at the look in his eyes that said he wanted to devour you alive, you simply tilt your head coyly. 

“So what?” A smirk playing on your lips, “Gonna do something about it, daddy? Or are you just gonna leave me all hot and bothered like you have-”

Your back hits the leather sofa before you even realize what is happening. 

Bouncing at the sheer force of his throw, you let out a yelp of surprise. Skirt riding up, legs splaying out so sinfully for him. 

The cushion dips as he looms closer, approaching you unhurriedly like a predatory closing in on its prey. A dangerous little smirk playing on your lips, you spread your legs wider, inviting him in. A carnal part of you relishing in the way his eyes can’t seem to decide between your soaked panties and the way you bite your lips so coyly.

“If you’re that desperate, then you’re gonna get it, my lil’ slut” 

He’s on top of you now, tongue hot against your neck, leaving heated, open-mouthed kisses down to your collarbone. You yelp as sharp teeth dig into the soft skin. Hands exploring every inch of you, desperate for more - and you’re no better.

Sharp nails digging into that sinfully tight t-shirt, all but tearing it to shreds. Your mouth waters as it hits the floor, Toji’s chiseled body on full display. Your eyes greedily take in every curve and dip, hands reaching out to grope the toned skin. Pulling. Teasing. Not enough time in the world to savor the Adonis that was Toji Fushiguro.

His hands were pulling up your shirt haphazardly. Bunching your panties with two fingers, pulling down down down till your cunt was bare and spread open so shamefully for him. “Shit, so wet n’ ready. This for me or that brat, huh?” he grunts cruelly, lowering himself beside you to murmur in your ear.

“Now, on your knees, princess. Be a good lil’ slut for me and don’t make me wait.”  breath hot against your ears, making you shudder so sinfully. It made him want to eat you alive.

You consider disobeying him, just to face his delicious punishment. But that predatory look in his eyes has you immediately dropping to the ground in front of him.

Your hungry gaze takes in the heavenly sight before you. Legs spread, eyes half-lidded, pants pulled down just enough so that his heavy, leaking cock bobbing enticingly in the air. 

Eyes widening, your cunt clenches in both fear and anticipation. Shit, maybe this was why he was holding back. 

He was big. Ridiculously big, and rock-hard. Furiously red with thick veins running down the side, glistening with precum.

“C’mon now, if you’re gonna act like such a slut then learn to take it like one, princess.” Saliva pools on your tongue, warm as it hits Toji’s thick tip, achingly hard. A carnal part of you relishes in the low hiss that leaves him. 

Your tongue snakes out, unable to hold yourself back any longer. Swiping at the droplets of precum pooling on his tip. The sinfully salty taste explodes on your tongue, sending shocks of pleasure right to your cunt.

You feel his intense gaze on you as your mouth wraps around his thick head, inching down slowly. Stretching your lips obscenely, filling you up in ways you never thought were possible. 

Your breath gets caught in your throat as he pulses in your throat. It was overwhelming and everything you wanted to be doing right now.

Ah, but you should’ve known by now. Should’ve realized as your teary eyes look up to meet the dangerous glint in his. 

With a feral groan, his hips thrust forward. You were too slow. 

Hardening impossibly at the way you choke and gag around him, tears springing to your eyes. Using you in a way that was so debauched. “Hah- Fuck. love it when you sing, princess, but you look better choking on my cock.”

Your nose was buried in his pubic hair now, wet with saliva and precum. His heady, masculine scent filling your senses. Toji’s thrusts were jerky, desperate. 

Grip searing on your scalp, Toji uses it as leverage as he fucks your face till his tip hits your poor, abused throat. Moving you up and down on his cock with mindless need, hips rutting with reckless abandon.

Yet, you wanted more. Needed more. More more more. You wanted to feel him deep inside you, splitting you open, making you come harder than you ever thought possible.

And you’re guessing it showed on your dazed eyes. Because a broken, dangerous laugh leaves him. His grip on your hair intensifies, pulling your head back roughly until your eyes water. “More? You want fucking more? Then prove it.” 

Toji’s thrusts increase in speed, his raspy grunts becoming louder and louder as he rams his cock deeper into your mouth, your pussy throbbing in response.

You moan around his erection, unable to form coherent sentences due to his length stretching your throat. 

Without hesitation, you reach up and grab his balls, massaging them firmly as you suck him deeper. Pressing right in between that one spot you knew would make him see stars. Pressing tight little circles. Over and over-

An appreciative groan leaving him, Toji’s thrusts become erratic. Movements growing frantic. “Fuck, Fuck, princess, you're going to be the death of me,” he curses, his voice strained.

You rub your thighs together desperately, relaxing your throat more, refusing to let go. Desperate to taste him, to experience the blissful agony of his seed painting your mouth. But when has Toji ever let you have your way? Never, that’s when.

Instead, he yanks your head back, pulling you off his cock with a rough, almost cruel motion. Your lips pop free, leaving his sensitive head exposed to the cool air. Gasping for breath, your chest heaves as you try to regain your composure.

Before you can even register what's happening, Toji pulls you into him, forcing you on your hands and knees. Large hands grasp your waist, holding you firmly in place. “Face down, ass up. You’re going to take it like a good little slut.”

Delicious goosebumps erupt down your spine. Licking a long, languid stripe down your back along them as you position yourself before him, Toji couldn’t help but huff out a dangerous laugh at your sinful gasp.

Mouth watering at your glistening cunt, clenching so pathetically around nothing, Toji pools your juices on two of his fingers. Promptly pushing them into his mouth with a lewd pop! groaning at his favorite taste. “Next time, I’m gonna eat out your pretty lil’ cunt while you suck on my cock, princess.”

“Please, daddy. Anything.”

Fingers circling your wet entrance, your words were music to Toji’s ears. Music that mingles with your needy, disappointed whine as he abruptly pulls away. But that doesn’t last too long - with low hiss, he buries his throbbing cock into your dripping cunt with almost no preparation.  

You keen at the stretch as he presses in - deliciously painful, boderling insane, and exactly what you wanted right now. Splitting you apart on his throbbing cock. 

Toji was hot and throbbing agonizingly inside you, each little bump bump bump sending white-hot pleasure down your spine.

“Ah- are- are you all the way in, daddy?” he hears you whimper, voice tinged with helpless desperation. Huffing out a laugh, Toji’s greedy gaze catches on the obscene sight of you sucking him up so sinfully below. “Not even close, princess.”

Pushing in shallow, determined little thrusts that have your hot cunt enveloping him deeper and deeper. Cock hardening impossibly at the soft ah! ah! ah! leaving your mouth each time he rams into you. If you wanted it so bad, you were going to get all of it. A hoarse groan leaves him as his heavy balls meet your twitching folds, fat tip kissing your cervix - finally bottoming out. 

Now, Toji knows he’s big - takes pride in it, in fact. But he’s never been more proud of the fact than right now, hungry gaze taking up the way your eyes widen in shock, snug walls clenching down with the struggle to accommodate him. 

“You alright, princess?” he taunts, voice thick with satisfaction as he watches your face twist with a mix of pleasure and pain. “Can’t your slutty lil’ pussy handle my cock?” Tell me, he as big as me? 

And, of course, you snap back - because you’re mouthy even when you’re whining around his thick cock. Ah, next time he’s gotta make you choke on it for longer. 

“Fuck you, daddy.” your response is a feral growl, hips desperately trying to fuck back into his. “If you’re not all talk then fuck me like you want to already.”

Smack! 

A sharp slap stinging your cheek, you groan in response as absolutely raw, carnal fucking need courses through Toji’s veins. Intoxicating him. Oh, he was going to ruin you. Grinning cruelly, he utters “Then take it. And don’t fucking complain.”

With that, he begins to move. Not easing in, ramming into you with animalistic efficiency. Your ass stinging as each thrust has his hips meeting yours brutally. Toji’s pretty sure his hips were out of control at this point, high off your teary cries of pain and pleasure. That cluttered studio heady with sex and pure, animalistic desperation.”S’good- ah! S’too much-”

Smack!

There’s no going back now. Toji fucks you in a way that makes you feel so deliciously filthy. Plunging into your heated cunt with no restraint. Thrusts positively savage. Every inch of him fills you, stretching you beyond your limits, and you love every painful second of it.

Vision blurring at the edges, you reach out a hand to grab the armrest for stability. Body jerking with each movement, his bruising grip on your hips the only thing keeping you from being fucked off the sofa.

“Who’s fucking ruining you like this?”

“You! Jus’  like that. Fucking ruin me, daddy.” Legs shaking uncontrollably, arching impossibly deeper onto his throbbing cock, you whine each time his length slides in and out of your swollen folds. “Harder…please, harder.” you plead, fucked out.

For perhaps the first time, he obliges, increasing his speed mindlessly. God, you were sure both of you were about to explode any second now. 

Fucked out of your mind, you barely register the muscled front pressing into you, abs rippling against your back. Large hands snake from your hips, leaving deep, purple marks for you to remember him by. 

Smack! 

Another handprint on your ass, as you frantically move your hips to meet Toji’s unforgiving cadence. Sensing your urgency, one of his hands finds itself on your throbbing clit, drawing methodical, harsh circles on it. Pressing just enough to have you seeing stars being your eyes. And the other - digging into your neck.

Your frantic moans choke in your throat, feeling fucking delirious off both the change in angle and the hand around your throat. Eyes flashing at the lack of air and the blood roaring in your ears - and Toji. 

“Open your mouth, princess.” he grows, voice dangerously close to your ears, cock still driving into yours with brutal precision. The intensity of the moment - electric. 

Mindlessly, you comply, tongue lolling out so lewdly. That’s when he does it - without warning, he spits into your open mouth. Once. Twice. Three times.

Steady stream of saliva slightly missing your face - on purpose, you absentmindedly realize - as it dribbles over your kiss-bitten lips and down the side of your face. A marking. 

“No one else gets to fuck you like this, princess.”

Hot on your tongue, sliding down to your throat. He tasted of such sin, it made your cunt clamp down hard.

“Now, what do good girls say?” he grits out, through clenched teeth. The absolute insanity in his voice matching the frenzy coiling inside of you.

“Thank you, daddy.”

You reach around to capture his lips with yours, nails digging into his neck hard enough to draw blood - a marking of your own. White-hot ropes of pleasure making you gasp into his lips - tender where his cock was unforgiving.

In the lewd haze of the moment you’re dimly aware of Toji’s body shuddering above you, throbbing cock twitching deeply in your pussy.

“Oh, fuck! M-hah- M’cumming, better take every drop like my good lil’ slut. Fuck.” 

You flinch as he groans ragged profanities into your mouth. Tight balls squeezing painfully as he cums with a loud groan of your name. Thick, hot ropes that paint your walls white. Two large arms wrap bruisingly tight around your waist, veins popping out as he crushes you impossibly close to him. Toji’s hips not giving up their torture on your abused, awaiting cunt, pumping his seed deeper and deeper. 

Full. You feel so full. And so, so complete. 

You can feel such an obscene mix of your slick and his cum mapping down your legs every time his hips slam into yours. Dripping onto the cushion, pooling at the sofa in a way so sloppy, you knew you’d have to scour online later for a replacement.

Stomach now feeling uncomfortably inflated and hot, vision blurry, you collapse onto the cushion. The last of your strength leaving you with the orgasm that you’re sure fried your brain. You mewl at both the sensitivity and the sudden emptiness as Toji pulls out with a wet pop!

A rush of cum gushes out of you, drenching both you and the cushion below. Limp and boneless beneath him,  you let out a sigh at the heat of his release seeping into your skin.

A soft silence fills the room like a lullaby. Everything feels so heavy. So dizzying and so warm. You barely register the strong hands lifting you gently towards the direction of the bathroom. The only thing on your mind being Toji and what a privilege it was to fall asleep in someone’s arms. You wouldn’t really mind this every night…

And in the dim lighting of that heady studio, fucked to sleep and covered in sweat and his cum, Toji thinks you’ve never looked so beautiful.

His heart lurches as he realizes - in all of Paris, the one sight he wants to look at is you. His pretty popstar.

---

“For the last time. I don’t do celebrities, especially not spoiled pretty popstars.”

Undeterred, the blond man leans forward in his chair, his expression indiscernible behind those glasses. “We’re told you’re the best of the best, even from ex-military. And if money’s the issue then I’ll double- no, triple whatever you’re making right now.”

Jaw tightening, skepticism dripped from his words. “All this for some celebrity drama?” 

“Fushiguro, we’re talking big people, and even bigger money. And a girl’s life in genuine danger on top of it all,” a hint of desperation creeping into words that cut through the tense air. 

“Genuine danger, huh?”

Toji runs a hand through his hair, questioning what the fuck he got himself into by opening the door for this human definition of a stick up one’s ass. Mind racing, eyes darting around the room, they catch yours - twinkling on the glossy cover of some magazine thrown haphazardly on the table. 

Traitorously, something prickly and uncomfortable settles in his stomach as the words ring in his ears. 

Genuine danger. 

Heaving out a sigh, he narrows his eyes at the man currently studying his reaction. 

“A year. That’s it. No more, no less. I don’t care if that prima donna princess of yours begs on her knees otherwise.”

But right now, your twinkling gaze set on him, lips curved into a blinding smile as you waltz through Los Angeles International Airport - as much as you could with your entourage - some small, raw part of him thinks he wouldn’t mind staying like this for a long, long time. 

LAX was probably one of your favorite airports. Not because of its size or architecture, but because of the thrumming energy of the opportunity to come. Namely, your Grammy performance.

Eyes slightly heavy, yeah, you were cutting it close - to Nanami’s ever-graying hair at the stress.  But hey - at least no paparazzi tipped off for your unexpected arrival.

You just couldn’t resist the temptation to push your departure off for a day. Taking the extra time to wander along the Seine with Toji, talking about everything from your new dance number for next month’s Madrid show to why Nanami was a masochist for staying in this industry, all the way to Toji’s military stories that even Hollywood couldn’t dream up. 

The setting sun casting a soft glow on both of your uncanny disguises - your choice of course. A newfound understanding crackling between you two.

And right now, his presence steadfast behind yours as you weave through the bustling terminal, you feel a rush of excitement at finally performing that little project you’d been working on. 

More specifically what Toji’s reaction to it would be. Would he love it? Would he hate it? Would he realize just what that inconspicuous voice memo you bothered him into was actually for? 

But then came the real test: would he realize just who it was for?

The thought made you smirk inwardly. Imagine Toji’s face when he puts two and two together. 

Turning around, you catch Toji’s eye, a mirthful glint dancing in yours. “So, Toji, ready to witness greatness at the Grammys?” you quip, tone playful as you bump shoulders with him. Of course, the man barely budges. 

He raises an eyebrow, smirk tugging at the corner of his lips. “As long as I don't have to wear a tuxedo, princess.”

“Aww, and here I was thinking we could match.” you whine. Though a chuckle leaves your lips, “And that reminds me…” you trail off as your voice drops to a conspicuous whisper.

Delighting at the playful sigh that leaves his lips as Toji leans down, allowing you to whisper words meant for only him. “You better reward me after my performance, y’know. I remember someone saying something about ‘eating me out till I cry’” 

“You won’t be getting any reward if you continue acting like such a slut, princess.” warm breath tickling your ear as he murmurs. 

“If the shoe fits.” you bat your lashes, mockingly innocent. 

“If the shoe fits then please get into the car. The driver’s here and the team are on their way.” Nanami’s no-nonsense voice rings out. Already sounding dangerously close to an impending stroke. 

“Yes, mother.” you quip, stifling your laughter as you step outside. It’s a short walk to your destination, the cool morning breeze greeting you as you head for your waiting car, just stuck behind some slightly-oddly parked blue car. 

Ah, that’s LA for you, you chuckle inwardly, walking towards it - that strangely familiar blue car. The one you’ve seen a few too many times these past few weeks in the corner of your vision. 

Strange.

Steps slightly speeding up, a cold sweat trickles down your spine. Unease prickling at the back of your mind, something tells you you’re being watched. And not in the way of paparazzi snapping a stray picture.

Subconsciously, you take a half-glance inside the car - time freezes. Heart immediately lurching into your throat at the sight.

There. 

The door swings open. 

A flash of blue hair, one foot out of that dreaded blue car - is him. You don’t know how you knew it was him. You don’t know how you knew he was there. The only thing being your eyes locked on that glinting knife in his hand. Winking mockingly at you in the morning sun. 

Gray eyes locked on yours, whirling with chilling maniacal intensity. The cool morning breeze feels icy against your skin as a primal fear claws at your insides once you realize the imminent danger.

Toji’s trained instincts kick into high gear, eyes locked with his. Positioning himself between you and the assailant, his hand reaches for the weapon concealed beneath his suit jacket. Only for them to stutter in midair as he realizes they’re still safely stored in his checked luggage. Unreachable. 

Shit. Clever bastard.

Nanami moves with a swift grace, eyes scanning the surroundings for any nearby law enforcement. 

Mahito’s lips curl into a malevolent smirk as he realizes the vulnerability, grip tightening on his knife as he takes a menacing step forward. The air so tense you found it hard to breathe.

“You.” the words ring venomously, panic surging within you. “You think you’re so high and mighty, huh?”

“Step back before you do something you regret, you freak.” Toji’s voice is steady, body poised for action. Eyes locked on every minute tremor of the knife in his hands.

His eyes wide and bloodshot, staring right into Toji - almost as if trying to look at you through him. “Little princess~” he taunts in an eerie sing-song voice. “Why did you leave me here all alone, I was lonely, y’know~ And this gorilla never left you alone, ah what a pain to follow you around. But I did it- of course, I did it for my princess.” 

Another step forward.

No one engaged with Mahito’s delirious rambles. Nanami’s hand was firm on your shoulder, whispering in your ear to get away. Now. 

But your mind was stuck on the words that cut through you like a knife - the knife that he was now slicing through the air in jagged, deranged motions. “She can’t leave. She belongs here with me.”

Before anyone can react, Mahito throws himself forward with startling speed. Glinting blade deadly through the air. You stagger backward, the world spinning in a dizzying blur of fear and desperation.

Toji springs into action with lightning speed, body lunging expertly. Hands deflecting the blade with a swift motion. Knife flashing mere millimeters away from his skin.

Yet Mahito continues struggling relentlessly. Each movement calculated and cold. Hand slashing at Toji as he ducks and weaves away, attempting to divert the attack away from you. 

The grip on your shoulder tightens, “Let’s get away now. While he’s distracted.” 

You’re being pulled away before you know it. 

Movements sluggish in the air thick with tension and fear. Your body is frozen, ice running through your veins. Nanami’s urgent hold on your shoulder moving you away. 

But your eyes remain locked on Toji.

On the way he swiftly tries to find an opening amidst the blur of movement, knife slashing away as if it were a game. You were fighting to look back now, body twisting against the one moving you away. Struggling to follow Toji’s powerful kick to Mahito’s midsection. The impact knocking the wind out of him, knife faltering. Yet rage still surging.

Hand coming down down down. Merciless metal meeting skin. Red-hot crimson flashing behind your eyes and staining the ground below Toji as he’s slashed viciously. 

It’s in New York that you meet Toji Fushiguro.

It’s in Los Angeles that you think you might lose him.

The sickening sound of metal against flesh echoing amidst the blood-curdling scream you don’t realize you let out. 

The sound making Mahito falter for the briefest millisecond, a flicker of hesitation flitting across his twisted features.

And it’s all the opening Toji needs. 

Launching himself at the man, colliding with a bone-jarring impact that has both bodies crashing to the ground. 

A deadly struggle, and despite Mahito’s fierce grappling - fueled by pure madness - he’s no match for Toji’s punishing blows. Every strike clear and calculated, pinning his flailing hands to the ground.

The screech of metal against gravel and distant footsteps ring in your ears, as Toji wrestles the knife from his hands. Glinting metal skidding away.

 For a fleeting moment, the world seems to hold its breath.

“You’re supposed to be with me.” Mahito's voice pierces through the din, voice hoarse and desperate. “I’m the one who’s been there for you ever since you stepped foot in that godforsaken agency. Me. It’s me.” he snarls. Eyes cutting into yours.

Takedown tightening, Toji pins his body tighter against the ground. “You don’t have the right to talk to her, you blue-haired freak. Be grateful we’re in broad daylight and I can’t rip you limb from limb for her.”

You release a breath you didn’t know you were holding as Toji’s strained yet still steady voice rings in your ears - in tune with the voices you’re now realizing were surrounding you. As uniform-clad figures rush into your circle of vision, you distinctly realize with a jolt that it’s over. 

Knees weakening in relief, you feel them hit the gravel. It’s all over. You feel light-headed - absolutely delirious. Vision blurring with tears and all you can see is red red red. 

Blood roaring in your ears, you miss Mahito’s shrieks as he’s restrained and escorted away. The only thing registering in your mind being the warm hand under your arm, pulling you up gently as if you were something so utterly precious. 

Toji.

“Are you okay, princess? Need me to loosen another one of that bastard’s teeth?” he rumbles slowly, slightly breathless. As you cling onto the words like a lifeline, a fresh wave of tears prick your eyes at his uncharacteristically careful tone.

“Are you okay?” you repeat, words heavy with remorse as you blink at the sight of that stark red against his t-shirt. A deep gash running along his side that left Toji vulnerable in ways you knew he would never openly admit. 

Seeing your shaken state, he lets out a sigh. Pulling you flush against his chest, careful to avoid his injury. “I’ll be fine princess.” he murmurs, quiet words strained and meant for only you, amidst the chaos in the background. You lean into his touch, reveling in the feeling of him being solid and whole and here. With you.

You think you could stay like that forever. 

Ah, but one can’t get everything they want. 

Nanami’s voice cuts through the fragile peace with his usual calm authority, “I've spoken with the authorities,” you whirl around to meet his exhausted gaze. “They’ve assured me that Mahito will be taken into custody, and measures are being put in place to prevent any future incidents.”

Eyes flitting between you and Toji, he continues, voice taking on a much softer tone. “There’s no need for you to attend the Grammys after all that happened, I understand and will contact them if you wish to stay here.” And with that, Nanami walks away to a nearby police officer, presumably to give a statement - but you knew better, grateful for the moment of privacy he’d given you two.

Right. The Grammys.

Part of you is relieved at the prospect of not having to pretend that everything is fine in front of the flashing cameras and millions of scrutinizing eyes. And the other part, well, you glance up at Toji. 

Wide eyes meeting those green ones. Unspoken questions swirling between you two like a whirlwind. Is it really over? What does that mean for us? Will you stay?

Please stay.

“I don’t want to go,”  you confess quietly, voice barely above a whisper. “I want to stay here with you, make sure you’re okay.”

Toji’s gaze softens, a hint of warmth flickering in his usually steely eyes as he brushes a stray lock of hair from your face. “My princess worries about me, hm? I’ll be fine.” he reassures, yet words weak from the pain. “Go out there and kill it.”

And in the delicate tension of it all you find it in yourself to arch your eyebrow skeptically, “Fine? You’re bleeding out, Toji. That doesn’t exactly scream ‘fine’ to me.”

“I’ve had worse, I promise. Worst case scenario I track that freak down and break his arm.”

You let out a watery laugh as Toji leans down, hot breath fanning your face. His lips brush against yours in a tender kiss. A silent reassurance. But just as quickly as it began, he pulls back with a playful bite to your lower lip.

“Now go. Blow the overpriced silk pants off of all those overrated snobs. Trust me.”

You almost bristle at his words, but that twinkle of fondness in his eyes made all your inhibitions melt away - involuntarily, of course. Throat tight, you give an affirmative nod. 

Now, Toji always did delight in catching you off guard. But right now, ignoring the fussing EMTs, watching you be hastily ushered away by your team - the words tumble out before he can stop them. 

“Oi, princess.” he calls out, voice carrying over the chaos. “I love ya.”

And as he watched you trip over nothing but thin air, a lightheaded chuckle leaves him - maybe it was the bloodloss, probably it was that adorable look on your face. “Smooth, princess.” he laughs.

As you regain your composure and flip him off, promptly being whisked away by Nanami - who looks two steps into his grave already - Toji can’t help but feel a sense of pride swell within him. “Tha’s my girl,” he mutters to himself, a rare gentle smile tugging at the corners of his lips.

---

“Ladies and gentlemen, music aficionados around the world. It is my pleasure to announce our next performance, a star who needs no introduction. Get ready to witness the talent, the charisma, and the sheer audacity of the one, the only-.”

Cameras flashing. Cheers roaring, The anticipation electric as your name echoes through the auditorium, the audience’s excitement reaching a fever pitch as you take to the stage.

“Buckle up, darlings, because this is ‘Government Hooker’!”

---

“They don’t call you pop royalty for nothing, huh? You're going to take over the charts with that one!”

“Girl, who was that sexyass voice in that song? Drop me his number if you aren’t already with him.”

“Stunning as usual, huh?”

The whirlwind of congratulations and praise envelop you back at the Grammys afterparty. Your hand throbs from being clutched so tightly, and you can’t help but smile at the adrenaline and euphoria thrumming through your veins, washing away most of what happened earlier today. Yeah, you killed it.

But as you navigate through the crowd, exchanging pleasantries and posing for photos, a nagging part of your mind keeps returning to Toji. Red, red to match your gown. He should’ve been here with you tonight. 

Nodding and smiling along at the compliments, you find yourself drifting away from the bustling center of the party. Constantly checking your phone for any updates other than Nanami’s “He’s alive.” text from a few hours ago.

Ah, there it is.

Finally reaching the exit, goosebumps erupt along your skin as you step out into the chilly night air. You’re momentarily blinded by the barrage of camera flashes from the waiting paparazzi outside. Their shouts merging into an indistinguishable cacophony. 

Yet, you push forward, determined to reach your awaiting car.

Just as you approach the curb, a sleek black Rolls-Royce pulls up beside you, tinted windows shielding the figure inside. God, you gotta remember to give Nanami a raise.

Swiftly sliding in, “Nanami you wouldn’t believe-” 

“I’d hope I don’t look anything like that walking resignation letter.” 

Your eyes widen in disbelief as you turn towards the figure seated beside you, and there he is. Toji.

All signature smirk and twinkling eyes despite the bandages wrapped tightly around his torso.

A gasp leaves as your eyes catch on them, a million thoughts running through your head at once. “Wait, what are you even doing here- You’re hurt, are you even okay- Should we call the ambulance? Those look like-”

“Woah woah, slow down princess. I’m clearly alive, hm? Why, shouldn’t your muse be there to personally pick you up?” he chuckles. “Besides, you killed it out there. That shit was playing was all that every radio was playing for the last hour.”

You can’t help but laugh at his teasing tone, relief flooding through you at the sound of his voice. “Well, you are the exception.” Reaching over and gently cupping his cheek, that small scar was rough against your thumb.

Leaning in, bathed in the soft glow of the city lights, you take in the way his eyes crinkle at the corners when he smiles, the way his hand rests protectively on your thigh.

“Thank you.” you whisper, breath hot against his lips. And though you don’t specify for what - both of you know. Both of you understand. Your lips meet his in a lingering kiss, he tastes of mint and the anticipation of something new and freeing. 

Pulling away slightly, his gaze meets yours with a rare little vulnerability. “Always, princess.” A raw second of silence.

One. Two. Before a smug smirk curls his lips, hand squeezing your thigh. “Now, I remember someone wanting to be eaten out till she cried as a reward?”

You can’t help but roll your eyes, “Oh yeah? Right here, right now?”

“Think we’ll make the front page, princess?”

“I know so.” 

It’s in New York that you meet Toji Fushiguro.

It’s right now, giggling amidst the chaos of flashing cameras and forgotten afterparties, that you think you just might love him.

A/N. Actually frothing at the mouth I want him so bad y’all. Also, reader isn’t Lady Gaga, I just think the song fit.

Reblogs so, so appreciated.

Plagiarism not authorized.

[blastiebabe]

hell yeah, you are spoiled

Bakugo Katsuki x Reader

You place your phone somewhere Katsuki cannot notice, and in an angle enough to be able to see most of the space in the bedroom you share with him.

You press record and come back to sitting in front of your vanity table to continue getting ready for your date night. You have seen this TikTok video and was inspired by it to put your phone on record to test how easily your boyfriend can be enraged for you.

Katsuki comes into your shared bedroom wearing only trouser pants that fits perfectly in his waist and accentuate his hips. Seeing him through your mirror, you can't help but realize how beautiful your boyfriend is. Katsuki heads to the closet looking for a shirt to wear.

"Love, what color are you wearing?" He asks as he look at his clothes on the rack.

You came back to your senses when you heard him speak, you have been so mesmerized by his beauty you almost forgot you were shooting.

"A black dress." You replied, looking at his direction. "Why?"

Katsuki looks back at you. "Just askin'." He says as he brings out a black polo and proceeds to sit on the bed.

You smirk at his response. "You wanna match colors with me or somethin'?" You tease him.

"Nah uh." You watch his condescending expression from his reflection on the mirror, his tone with an attitude while simultaneously having red ears. If you aren't planning anything, you weren't gonna let that slide, but since you are, you'll prioritize that.

You laugh at him and continued your make up, trying to find the right time to throw him the reason you started recording. He laid on the bed scrolling on his phone while waiting for you.

A minute passed, and you decided to finally tell him. "Love..." Katsuki immediately darted his eyes straight at you, waiting for the next thing you'll say.

"I have something I need to tell you but promise you won't be mad, okay?" You say calmly, acting yourself the hell out.

Katsuki immediately changed his position and sits up straight, eyes locked at you with a hint of worry in his face. "I ain't making any promises. What is it?"

You turn your back on the mirror and faced your boyfriend who has now a visibly worried face. You look at the floor and started playing with your fingers, making him worry more.

He stands up and sits on the edge of the bed in front of you. He is now near you and looking straight at you while you continue to look at the floor. "Princess, come on, you can tell me..."

"Well, I... I have read some comments on your social media page..." You look at Katsuki before you, you feel a hint of guilt when you saw how genuine his concern is. But you needed to continue.

"Mm hmm. And then?" He asks calmly.

"And... and some of your fans have left comments on the pictures you have uploaded of me."

"The hell did they say?" Katsuki asks now with a hint of irritation from his voice. This is going well. You thought.

"They said I am super spoiled." You say as sad as your acting can be.

You can clearly see the shift in Katsuki's eyes as you have muttered the last word, and his annoyance suddenly became a repressed laughter. He snorts as he covers his mouth.

You face him offended. Did he just laugh because other people called you spoiled? What the fuck?

Before you can even tell him off, he stands up, grabs his polo and started wearing it. "Love, you are spoiled." He says emphasizing on it.

"Katsuki, what the actual fuck?" You say having a hard time to process what he is saying.

He was about to button his polo when he suddenly sees you look so disappointed to what he just said. He clearly isn't making himself clear. He goes in front you, his right knee touching the floor as he looks straight into your eyes.

"My love, you honestly better be spoiled. Because I do spoil you, don't I?" Katsuki reaches for your hands. "So, hell yeah, you are spoiled. Because you are my princess and you deserve to get everything you want."

You can literally feel your annoyance slowly fading out. How can this man be so damn mean and sweet at the same fucking time?

Katsuki continues, "I know you spoil yourself even before we started dating, so it is my job to spoil you better than you spoil yourself." You can straight up see how genuine his words are through his eyes.

"And if I may I remind you, I am more than willing to spoil you 'til the ends of the Earth if it means I get to make you be happiest you've ever been." The man before you explain as he cups your cheek with his hand.

This conversation has turned into a completely different route from what you had expected. You had expected him to be furious about the comments, to be protective to not let other people talk like that about you. But turns out Katsuki has his own way to make you feel so damn good. This. This is the reason why Katsuki is different from all the other damned extras.

You can literally feel tears forming in your eyeballs. You cup both his cheeks with your hands, knowing anytime the damned tears might just fall. "You know I love you so damn much, right?"

You feel his smile in the palm of your hands. "Of course I do, my love." As soon as these words depart from his lips, you took the opportunity to have your lips met his.

Using your tongue to explain and make him remember how much you love him, and all the other things you feel for him that can never be explained by words alone.

Your hands travel on the nape of his neck bringing him closer to you as you deepen the kiss. You feel his hands at the small of your back as he let you lead.

When your lips parted, both of you are catching for your breath. You stare at Katsuki's mesmerizing face before you with his eyes glistening. "Now that was a perfect example of how you spoil me."

. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁ thank u for reading! :>> . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁ ༶•┈ by yel0ngkape ┈•༶ i accept requests, so feel free to reach out! ♡

[rosenclaws]

The Wolverine and His Bunny || Logan Howlett x Bunny Girl!Reader

summary: You and Logan have always butted heads and his constant, condescending reminders of your mutation don't help. It's not until your forced to train together and well, the tension is undeniable

warnings: MINORS DNI, SMUT, 18+ ONLY, fem!reader, rough sex, a variety of bunny themed nicknames (Bunny, thumper, carrots), creampie, manhandling, pain kink (Logan), doggy style, dirty talk, blow job, mirror sex, slight choking, degradation, praise, he plays with your bunny ears oops, enemies to lovers kinda? Logan's a dick at first, teasing, being pinned down.

Don't like it don't read it :)

Halloween Masterlist

wc: 3.7k

a/n: Okay look, I thought this was hot and so I wrote it. Anyways happy October first everyone! Hoping to add my degeneracy to the long list of fics to come. This also ended up being more. angsty than i mean it to be. I think I have an angst problem oops

You hated him so much. He was. He was just a massive dick for no reason and you hated people like that. You get that he was the all mighty Wolverine who was indestructible or whatever but if he could act like a normal person for once in his life that would be great.

He wasn't even the leader of the damn team and yet every one seemed to act like he walked on fucking water. It's not like he was the only one on the team either. He may tell everyone he's a loner and he doesn't need help but we're the X-Men. Not just Wolverine.

It's just not fair.

You had the perfect plan. Planned down to the very second and Logan had to go and fuck it all up. Maybe it was an honest mistake but you highly doubted it. He always had a problem with you. You didn't understand why. The moment you showed up to the mansion he was hostile. Calling you stupid, condescending nicknames because of your mutation while ignoring the part of it that made you super smart.

You were fuming when the team got back from the mission. You stormed right past everyone to get to Logan. They shoot you apologetic looks but you paid them no mind.

"Logan!"

"What's got your panties in a twist bunny?" He leans against the jet hangar door. A cigar already lit in his mouth.

"Don't call me that asshole!" You shove his chest but he doesn't move. Your nose twitching in anger as he just laughs.

"I had a plan Logan. A good plan. A perfect. Plan. So tell me why as soon as you had the chance to, you ruined it!" He scoffs and blows a puff of smoke in your face. Your ears flatten against your head as you wave the smoke away.

"We finished the mission didn't we?." He says with a smirk. If this were a cartoon you'd surely have steam coming out of your ears by now.

"God you're nothing but a slimy little weasel sometimes!" You push your finger into his chest. He pushes your hand away and bares his teeth like an animal.

"You have no idea what it's like to actually be on the field so why don't you tuck your little tail between your legs and run back to the lab."

"Logan! That's enough." Jean scolds him harshly as you turn around and storm out of the room.

You feel tears welling up in your eyes but you force them down. Fuck him, you were an important part of the team. Whether he liked it or not.

It's like he lived to torture you. Ever since the day you told him off he seemed to just. appear. Constantly. Wherever you were he was there too. In the kitchen? He strolls right in for a soda. In the training room? He's already there. All sweaty and grunting and gross. You're outside near the water fountain, guess who strolls right on up. It was like he was stalking you or something.

Your ears perk up as you hear footsteps approaching your classroom. You taught most of the high level classes, the advanced ones for students who wished for more academic classes. So their tests were more complex to grade which is why you were still here so late into the night. Your nose twitches as a familiar scent fills your nose. Without even looking you let out a long sigh.

"What do you want weasel?"

"Now that's not very nice of you." Logan says with a smirk as he sits in the chair across from your desk. He puts his feet up on your desk. Right on top of the stack of papers.

"Can't you go bother someone else? Please. Like anyone else." He grins and you roll your eyes.

"But I just love your company." His voice is dripping with playful sarcasm.

"You're going to work yourself to death carrots. It's not good for you." The truth is he came to try and apologize for the other day but he just hasn’t found the right time. Okay well there’s been good times but he was never able to get the words out. So here he is trying his best.

He stands up and leans over your desk. You have to admit he's certainly an overwhelming presence. His face is inches away from yours, eyes staring into your soul with a wolfish grin on his face. He picks the pen out of your hand and throws it over his shoulder.

"Why not take the stick out of your ass and have a little fun?" Wow, for a second there you almost thought he cared.

"You know what Logan, just leave me alone."

"You know I'm trying to be nice here and all I'm catching is attitude." He growls. You slam your hands on the desk and stand up. Getting close to his face as your ears flatten. "

Nice? You think you're being nice?" You laugh in his face and he pushes back. Papers fly everywhere.

"Fine, work yourself to death I don't fucking care." He storms out of your room and slams your door loudly.

"Asshole!" You yell back. You turn back to see the mess of papers and sigh. Great, now your night got even longer. Logan mutters angrily as he stalks through the halls. So much for trying.

It's been at least a couple weeks since that night with Logan and thankfully he's finally decided to leave you alone. You barely saw him and in a weird way, you kind of missed him. Kind of. Barely. In fact you really enjoyed the peace. Your ears definitely didn't perk up when you heard Logan's voice on the other side of Professor Xavier's office. You push through the door and find Logan looking very pissed off.

"You wanted to see me?" You glance over at Logan who was fuming silently.

"Yes, I think it's time you join the team. On the field." You widen your eyes in surprise. You never considered yourself to be a field agent. Your mutation wasn't exactly built for combat. You were speedy but that's about it. Strategy and smarts were much more your speed.

"I think bringing you out on the field would be an immense help to your battle tactics. As Logan so kindly put it, being on the field is different from watching on the outside." You flash back to the harsh words Logan had said to you a while ago.

Logically it would be helpful for you to observe what missions were like first hand but you don't think you needed to be there. Still to get yourself a suit and be part of the team sounded nice too.

"And since it was his idea, Logan will be your instructor."

"What?!"

"Absolutely not." Charles gives you both a look, one that said to quiet down and you both reluctantly listen.

"I am not a fool,  the two of you need to learn to work together. My decision is final." His tone leaves no room for argument and the two of you leave with scowls on your face.

"Alright thumper, here’s how it’s going to go. Tomorrow. 7am in the training room. Think you can handle it?” He places his hand near your head. You roll your eyes and duck under his hand.

“Yeah yeah, see you then Weasel.”

It feels like this was meant to be a punishment more than an assignment. You get that you and Logan haven’t. exactly gotten along but to stick you together like this? That’s just mean. You showed up right at 7am the next morning dressed in workout clothes. Logan is already there dressed in his little gray sweatshirt, white tank top and sweatpants.

“So you didn’t run away? Good bunny.” He smirks as your face scrunches up in anger.

“Fuck off.” You’re already dreading this. If you could just survive an hour then you could never deal with him again.

"Okay, show me what you got." He stands in the center of the mat. Arms at his side with an expectant look on his face.

"What?"

"I heal bunny, so give me all you got. I need to see what I'm working with here." You take a deep breath and launch an attack.

You weren't helpless by any means but you weren’t on the same level as Logan, even you could admit that. He barely flinched as you darted around the room. Striking him in a few places but he just stood there. It was starting to piss you off. You get that you weren’t the fiercest but he could at least try and fucking help instead of wearing you out like this. You look around the room and see wooden poles used for combat training. He never said you had to just use your hands. You dart across the room and grab one, swinging it hard against his back. To your surprise it completely breaks. Shattering on impact. He grabs the broken half that’s left in your hands and pulls it out of them.

“That’s cheating,”

“No it’s not. I was just using my resources.” He laughs and grabs your wrist. He slowly backs you up until you hit the wall.

“Oh yeah? What you’re gonna find a really big stick out in the field?” He mocks.

“This is useless.” He lets go and walks away from you.

You feel anger bubbling up in your chest. You don’t belong. You’re useless. What good are you to the X-Men? You are sick and tired of hearing shit like this all the fucking time and Logan was the worst about it. You launch yourself at him. Running as fast as you can and jumping on his back. It blindsides him, he tumbles to the ground. He grunts as you start to hit his back hard.

“What is your fucking problem!” He pushes you off and you wince as you hit the mat. You scramble away before he can get up and jump back onto him. Legs straddling his waist as you push his shoulders.

“Why do you hate me so much?! What did I do to you?!” You take a swing and hit him square in the jaw. He looks surprised but shakes it off easily. He doesn’t fight back, more in shock than angry at this point.

“I get that I don’t have metal claws and I can’t move stuff with my mind but I’m part of the team too!” You swing your fist again but he catches it this time. He grabs your other one and pushes you to the ground roughly.

“Fuck off!” You hiss as he crawls on top of you. He’s heavier than a fucking boulder as he practically pins you to the ground.

“No you shut up and fucking listen.” He growls. He still has your hands pinned to the floor. An almost animalistic look on his face.

“You are so infuriating, everything about you drives me fucking crazy. So pretty, so smart, so easy to rile up.” He purrs. Your body feels like it’s on fire. What the hell is he even talking about?

“I say things without thinking sometimes but you, you make it so hard. Always running your mouth.” You squirm under him, trying to get free.

Then. He moans. He fucking moans.

You stop moving and stare up at him in surprise. Then you feel something hard against your stomach. Oh. He’s hard.

“No fucking way.” You say with a smirk. He may be on top of you but right now it feels like you have all the power here.

“Don’t tell me you were an absolute dick because you liked me?” He doesn’t deny it. Instead pressing you harder into the mat.

“Shut up.”

“Couldn’t handle your feelings so you decided to tease me like a fucking schoolboy.” You laugh and try and move your arms but he doesn’t budge.

“You know what I think, I think you need to lose the attitude carrots, I think a nice good fuck would do you good.” You scoff at his words.

“And you think you’re the one to do that? You couldn’t make a girl cum if your life depended on it, Weasel.”

“Is that a challenge bunny? Come on, say it.” He’s hot and horny but he’s giving you a way out.

If you tell him to fuck off he’ll leave and you both can forget about it, but if you don’t. If you say you want this. Well he’ll finally shut you up like he’s been dreaming about. There’s a moment of silence between the two of you. He’s breathing heavy like an animal and you’re studying his every move. Was this a bad idea? Probably. But you couldn’t deny that Logan was hot and right now all you wanted was to suck him off until he was milked dry. Shit.

“You can try, but I bet you won’t even last a minute.” He practically pounces on you. His face is buried in your neck as his hips grind against yours. You gasp as he bites your neck harshly. Eyes fluttering shut as he kisses it better.

“Dreamed of this, my bunny all wet and needy for me.” He nibbles up to your ears. Practically purring at how soft they feel.

“Not your bunny yet.” You bite back. He lets go of your wrists and sits up on his knees. He rips open your bra without the least bit of resistance. Mouth drooling as he stares at your tits.

“Fuck me.” He mutters as he harshly gropes your chest.

His thumb flicks over your nipple and you let out a squeak of pleasure. The last thing you wanted was for him to get an ego but fuck the way his hands feel on you is just so good. They’re rough and calloused and he is relentless in his movements. You almost whine when he stops playing with them, already missing his touch. He sheds his tank top, leaving him in all his muscled glory.

“Like what you see?” He asks cockily as he takes his pants off too.

“You fucking wish.” You mutter unconvincingly. You take your nails and rake them down his chest making him moan.

“You like a little pain don’t you.” You tease, digging your nails into his skin harder.

“Maybe I do.” You yelp as he shreds your pants and underwear to shreds.

“Those were fucking expensive asshole-Fuck!” You gasp as he buries his face into your cunt. His hands locked on your thighs, moving isn’t an option as he practically inhales your cunt.

“Smells so sweet, can always smell you bunny but up close is just. So much better.” You feel yourself start to melt under his rough hold. He’s absolutely overwhelming.

“Maybe later I’ll finally get a taste but right now I think I need to put your mouth to better use.” He pulls you up onto your knees. Stroking his cock as he pushes you down. Shit he’s big but you don’t even react, not wanting to give him the satisfaction.

“Come on bunny, open up. Be a good girl for me.” Fuck him if he thinks he’s going to be in charge here. You smirk and take him as far down as you can.

“Fuck!” He hisses, not prepared for you to do that.

“Fuck slow down.” There's a hint of desperation in his voice and you feel a sense of pride. You pull back and spit on his cock. Using your hand you coat it, looking him right in the eyes as you roughly move your hand along his cock.

“I think you need a lesson too,” His eyes roll to the back of his head as you take as much of him as you can.

Choking as the tip hits the back of your throat. You are unrelenting, eating up every little desperate sound that’s coming from his lips. Not so tough now are you Logan you think as you feel him twitching in your mouth. He’s so damn close and its driving him wild. You feel a heavy hand bunch your ears and pull you off.

“As much as I want to come down your throat and watch you swallow it all…” He wipes some drool off your face as talks.

“I need to be inside that cunt.” Then he grabs your face and kisses you, actually kisses you. You’re startled at first but melt into it. His lips are rough and he smells so much like tobacco and whiskey but fuck its intoxicating. He’s big, rough, and so fucking hot.

“You’re soaking wet bunny.” He taunts as he cups your cunt with his hands.

“I bet you’re just aching to be filled. Don’t worry, I can help.” He manhandles you with his crazy strength till you're on your knees facing the mirrors.

“See, you’re just shaking with anticipation.” He grins wickedly as he cups your face and forces you to look into the mirror.

He’s not wrong. He’s big and you can feel his cock nudging its way into your cunt. You’re panting, hair a mess. His hand looks so good around your neck and he looks even more delicious. Your vision blurs as he slides himself inside of you. The air is knocked out of your lungs as you feel nothing but Logan. Head up in the fucking clouds as he gives you a moment to relax, whispering sweet words to help ground you back to earth.

“Is your dick inside of me the only way to get you to be nice?” You ask breathlessly. Logan grunts, not happy that you’re still able to speak beyond moaning his name.

“I can be nice, I can be real nice.” He slides out of you at a slow, agonizing pace before thrusting harshly back in. You claw at the mat as he sets a brutal pace. In and out. Slow and hard. Pulling desperate sounds from the depths of your throat.

“Logan please!” You beg, you need him so bad. Need to feel him, need him to rearrange your fucking guts. “

So polite, now that’s more like it.” He leans in and kisses your neck roughly.

Claiming you as his own in his own animalistic way. He would tease you, continue to pull you apart on his cock for hours if he could. But the truth is he needed you. A deep carnal desire to render you completely fucked out. He leans back, pulling your back to his chest. He guides your hands to his arm.

“Hold on bunny.” Your nails sink deep into his skin, drawing blood as he sets a brutal pace.

Pounding into you so hard you see stars. Fucking hell super human strength and stamina really is a gift. He coos in your ear when he notices you starting to slump in his arms. Your legs burned, he was reducing you to a puddle of nothing.

“You okay pretty? Feel too good doesn’t it.” You nod, words not forming in your brain anymore.

All you feel is pure bliss and Logan feels a surge of pride in being the one to do this. You catch his gaze in the mirror. His eyes filled with pure, raw lust. His face was twisted in focus, brows furrowed and mouth slightly open. His muscles were bulging with every move. You couldn’t stop yourself from look. Watching as he buried his cock into you.

“I know you’re close, it’s okay. I got you bunny.” One of his hands slips down between your legs. He draws tight, harsh circles on your clit making you cry. You’re squirming wildly, it feels too good. His fingers are too much but you don’t want him to stop.

“Shh, that’s it. Just relax.” He sinks his teeth into your shoulder as you come hard.

Your legs can’t stop shaking. Logan tightens his grip on you, keeping you up right as he fucks into you hard. Chasing his own release, thrusting wildly and you fucking swear he whimpers as he stills his hips deep inside. Filling you up and then some. It’s a real shame when he pulls you, an empty feeling overtaking you. He loosens his grip and you almost face plant onto the mat.

“Logan..” You whine and he helps maneuver you to your back.

“Sorry carrots, didn’t mean to let you fall.”

“Don’t call me carrots.” You mumble, still completely exhausted.

“Okay, whatever you say, carrots.” You huff as Logan helps you stand up.

Your clothes are completely ruined but he somehow finds some extra sets of clothes in the closet. When did he even get up? Maybe you were still a little lost.

“Hey, you okay?” He cups your face gently. A slight look of worry in his face.

“Aw, you do care.” You tease. He rolls his eyes but doesn’t let go of you.

“I always cared.”

“Had a real shit way of showing it.” You snort and he just smiles softly.

“Yeah. Guess I did.” To your embarrassment you still can’t exactly walk right. Luckily Logan is right by your side. You mentally prepare yourself to tell people you hurt your leg or something when they ask why you’re limping so bad.

“I still don’t know what I did to make you hate me.” You say quietly as you reach your dorm room. He sighs and gently plays with your ears. It tickles.

“I don’t hate you, I never did. I just. I’m sorry. I’m really sorry.” He can’t articulate just why he acted the way he did. He wants to, he really does but it just. Doesn’t come out. There's a long history of pain and loss and while you want to know why, an apology is certainly a start.

“Thank you,” He smiles softly, then realizes he’s probably overstayed his welcome. As if you two weren’t fucking in the training room less than 10 minutes ago.

“Do you want to stay?” He hesitates, unsure if this is truly what you want. If this line is ready to be crossed.

“You owe me for ruining my clothes. Just one nap.” He relents, it’s easy when you’re looking at him like that.

“Okay bunny. Just one nap.” He shuts the door behind him, crawling into bed with you.

He feels a rumble in his chest as he sinks into your bed. You’re soft and it feels like he’s meant to be here. You fall asleep quick, body aching and practically screaming for you to sleep. Logan stays awake for a while, just okay with being here. Just one nap he tells himself. 

He’s lying. It’s never going to be just one nap.

[lunajay33]

Too Young

Summary: Pre Apocalypse, you’re Daryl’s secret girlfriend and you find you’re self in a predicament at a young age

Pairing: Young Daryl Dixon x f!reader

•Masterlist•

Looking down at the positive pregnancy test my heart is racing, how could this have happened we were always so careful the few times we were together, no body knew of our relationship, too scared of what his brother and father would do, and what my family would think as they thought the Dixons were scum

Daryl always treated me like a angel from the moment we met on our first day of school and over time we grew closer than just friends and now here I am pregnant

What will he think? Will it be too much and he’ll leave? Should I just rip the bandaid off and just tell him to get it over with before my anxiety runs rampant? Yes I think that’s best

We already had a date to met at our usual spot at the dock along the lake, I get in some shorts and one of his hoodies and make my way, the pregnancy test in my pocket, feeling like a brick

As I get closer I see him stood at the end waiting for me, as he hears me approaching he turns and his face brightens immediately and it kills me this might be the reason everything will change between us, I feel my lip wobble and I wrap my arms around his waist feeling him hold me close

“Angel what’s wrong, ya okay?” I shake my head pulling back looking up at him

“I……I don’t wanna tell you, promise you won’t leave me D” he looks panicked now never seeing me like this before

“Ya know I wouldn’” he brushes my hair back and I can’t help but lean into his touch

“I thought we were careful but……I’m pregnant” he goes completely still and just stares at me

“Please say something” I suck in a sharp breath feeling faint as my knees shake

“It’ll be okay” he whispers pulling me back in, we sit in silence on the dock for an hour as he just holds me

•

“Should we tell people? Nobody even knows we are together” I say quietly still scared of I talk too much he’ll run away

“Why don’t we run away”

“We can’t Daryl, we have family and no money and I’m scared, my family will be mad at first but they’ll still help us”

“Will they after they know yer carrying a Dixon?” He lifts an eyebrows knowing how my family isn’t fond of his

I sigh placing my hand where a bump will soon be

“I don’t want you to resent me when we get older and you feel stuck to me and the baby, I don’t wanna become our parents”

“Ya never could get rid of me, we’ve been eachothers from the moment we met and this baby ain’t changin that”

“We can figure this out right?”

“It’ll be fine Angel, I love ya”

“I love you too Daryl”

•

It’s been 3 months and we still haven’t told anyone too scared of what could happen but he’s been extra sweet to me, bringing me wild flowers when we meet, extra touchy always wanting to hold my hand or just be able to have his hand somewhere on me like he was protecting me incase anything happens

I woke up this morning looking in the mirror and I’ve finally popped my bump was showing through my shirt a little more obviously a baby and not just fat

I pulled on Daryl’s hoodie again because it’s my favorite thing to wear like I always had him there with me, covering my bump as best I could I walk out into the living room and my parents and brother are sat on the couch quietly

“What’s going on?”

“I don’t know why don’t you tell us?” My dad says shooting daggers at me

“I…..what?”

“Merle Dixon had a lil chat with me and told me you’ve been messing around with his brother, that right?” My brother asks and I feel like my world is starting to crumble

“I wanted to tell you guys but you’ve made it pretty clear how you feel about them, but Daryl’s nice to me he cares about me”

“Don’t be so stupid sweetie he’s only using you” my mom says condescendingly

“He’s not like Merle or his father, he’s kind you know I wouldn’t be with someone like Merle” they all laugh in my face and I can’t take it, I run to my room packing a bag and leaving running out the front door before they could stop me and going straight to Daryl’s

I get to the trailer house and knock anxiously playing with my fingers

“And what’s a fine piece of ass like ya doin here” merle answers making me scoff

“Where’s Daryl” he opens the door wider and lets me in, I make my way to his room thankful his dad isn’t here, seeing him laid on his bed, I close the door behind me and slump down next to him

“Hey sunshine what’s goin on?”

“Merle told my brother that we’re together, my parents know I can’t be there anymore” he runs his hand up and down my arm calming me

“Dumb ass, imma kill him”

“What’re we gonna do?”

“I have an aunt down south, she’ll take us for a bit she’s a nice woman”

“Are you sure” he nods packing a bag and taking my hand leading me out to his truck

“We’ll be okay, I promise”

[incestoru]

Do u have any dad!gojo thoughts to spare? 🥺 craving dad!content atm...

a/n: tbh, this has been in my drafts a while and is only half finished cause i can’t write smut for shit 😭 i don’t think it’s that good but i hope you like it 🤍

papa gojo who feels like a sick perv whenever he helps adjust your clothes.

you had always been a little air-headed, and you never grew out of it. some people were just flat out dumb. and unfortunately, his daughter was one of them. there wasn’t a single thought in your pretty little head, and as much as your daddy found it your most endearing quality, it was also the most frustrating.

you had not a care in the world with the way you presented yourself. it was always tight tops or short skirts with you, and your dumb brain never picked up on the lustful stares you’d receive from men when the two of you walked down the street.

the nerve of those creeps to look at his baby girl like that when he was standing right beside her . . . he could tell you to stop dressing like that outside the house, to only allow it at home where he’d be the one admiring you. but he knew how much you loved expressing yourself through your style and how you insisted that you needed to look cute at all times.

thankfully, he rarely ever let you go out without him. he could only imagine what would happen if his princess were caught alone — he could just kill them all if they looked at you the wrong way . . .

what made it difficult, however, was that you had absolutely no sense of self-preservation, especially around your father. the pout you give him is dangerous, innocently asking for help to tug up your tube top cause daddy had strong hands and your boobs were just too heavy, making it ride down all the time. he’d do it swiftly with minimal effort and you’d squeal, realizing how efficient it is to just have him do it for you from now on.

or like the times the two of you are out in public and you’d bend over in the smallest skirt to pick up something you dropped. daddy was always standing right behind you though, his pelvis hovering just inches away from your crotch so no disgusting creep peeps at his daughter’s skimpy, pink panties — he wouldn’t take a peak either, of course — that he only allowed you to buy cause he was incapable of saying no.

and then it happens once in the small and cramped dressing room at the mall. you call out to him for help, having a hard time clipping on a new bra, bending over as per usual like the clutz you are when the hanger slips from your hands.

the changing space is small as is, an enclosed area with a long body length mirror on one wall and a small, black, cushioned seat to sit when trying on shoes.

he could only gasp as you keel over, hands flying to your waist when your cunt presses directly on his bulge. you wiggle to reach the item that accidentally landed under the short bench, the feeling sending a jolt of pleasure to his crotch and he heaves out a stuttered choking sound, looking down at your form with wide eyes behind his dark shades.

“sorry, daddy!”, you whine obliviously from down below. but his muddled brain could barely process it, eyes rolling back at the sensation of your chubby cunt wrapping perfectly around his cock through the layers of fabric, as if it was meant to be there.

his hips buck into yours on its own accord, and you let out a small, surprised shriek, almost tumbling forward in the restricted space if not for the tight grip on your waist. hands that were once occupied with searching for the hanger were now scrambling to clutch onto the low seat in front of you.

your head shoots up to look at your dad in the mirror. as if he was waiting, both of your eyes meet and you take notice of his flushed face.

“d-daddy wha—”

he interrupts you before you can finish, grinding his cock — testing out the overwhelming feeling — into the seat of your panties, hard. a squeak leaves your lips, a shaky hand reaching back and you aren’t sure for what exactly.

there’s a certain gleam in his eyes. daddy’s looked at you like that numerous times in the past, but it would be gone as soon as it came.

now you think you have an idea of what it could mean . . .

[1425fivefive]

what if i briefly lost my mind due to this photo and wrote a 1.5k landoscar strip poker drabble. what if (landoscar, 1.5k words, nsfw)

Sometimes, Oscar wonders if Lando does things purely to torture him.

They’re on the private jet McLaren’s chartered for them back from the FIA Awards. Zak and Andrea are somewhere up in the front of the plane, probably sleeping off their hangovers. Andrea looked like he might puke at any second when they got into the car that morning to head to the airport. Oscar and Lando are at the back, sitting across from Sam Bird, one of McLaren’s drivers in Formula E.

Oscar likes Sam well enough, but he can’t help but wish Sam was literally anywhere else. Oscar feels like he’s going insane with Lando sitting right beside him, buried in an oversized hoodie, his curls still sleep-mussed. Lando keeps shooting Oscar these cheeky little grins, like he knows exactly how crazy Oscar’s felt all weekend.

Their rooms at the hotel were right next to Zak and Andrea and they couldn’t do anything without risking being overheard.

But it didn’t stop Lando from sending Oscar a mirror selfie after his shower, Lando’s towel slung ruinously low around his hips, water dripping down his torso. It didn’t stop Lando from following Oscar into a single-use toilet at the awards ceremony and palming Oscar’s dick through his tuxedo, kissing him hard and wet and filthy, before leaving Oscar panting against the sink, desperately trying to calm down. It didn’t stop Lando from sending Oscar a text in the middle of the ceremony that just read, can’t wait for u to fuck me tmrw 😇. Oscar had to work very, very hard to keep a neutral expression on his face.

At this point, Oscar sort of feels like he might die. He knows you can’t literally die from blue balls, but he also can’t help but feel like Lando’s trying his hardest to test that theory.

Two hours into the flight, Lando announces, “I’m bored.”

Oscar rolls his eyes. He’s not feeling particularly sympathetic at the moment, not when he’s half-hard and trying desperately not to go get himself off in the plane toilet while his bosses are on the flight. 

“Play your Switch or something,” Oscar says shortly. “Don’t you have, like, a million films on your iPad?”

“Yeah, but I’ve already watched all of them,” Lando says, pouting. “I want to do something fun.”

Oscar’s about to snap that he reckons Lando’s had more than enough fun these past few days.

But Sams interjects before Oscar can, saying, “I have a poker set?”

“Brilliant,” Lando says, face lighting up. “I love poker.”

“Why do you have a poker set?” Oscar asks. It seems like a bit of a random thing to just have on you in case the opportunity arises.

But Sam just laughs. “Love of the game, mate. Love of the game.”

Lando tips his head toward Oscar, grinning. “Only real poker heads would understand.”

“Oh my god,” Oscar says, shaking his head. “You only got into poker, like, a month ago—”

“Two months!” Lando says, holding up two fingers.

Oscar has to look away. The sight of Lando’s massive fingers has Oscar feeling things he really, really shouldn’t only two hours into a nine-hour flight.

“Oh, well then,” Oscar says, voice only slightly choked.

Out of the corner of his eye, Oscar sees Lando grin, like Lando knows exactly what Oscar’s thinking.

“You know how to play, right?” Sam asks Oscar.

Oscar shrugs. “Well enough.”

In truth, Oscar’s pretty shit at poker. But not as shit, apparently, as Lando.

Within three rounds, Lando’s down to a measly pile of chips. He keeps playing horrible hands, betting huge on hands that even Oscar knows almost never win. Hands like queen-high or a flush draw when Lando only has one card from that suit in his hand and there’s only one matching card on the board after the flop. Like, Oscar’s not good at poker, but he knows enough to know that Lando’s playing so poorly it almost seems like Lando’s trying to lose on purpose. 

That theory’s confirmed when Lando finally runs out of chips and says, “Shit.” He looks over at Oscar, his expression all wide-eyed innocence. “Reckon I’ll just have to start betting clothes, then.”

Oscar almost chokes. He briefly fantasizes about jumping out of the plane. It’d stop Lando from fucking torturing him at least. 

Instead, Oscar says, “I’m not playing strip poker.”

Oscar expects Sam to back him up, to realize what an absurd idea it is to play strip poker on a plane with their coworkers.

But Sam starts banging his fists on the table chanting, “Strip poker, strip poker, strip poker.”

Lando cackles and immediately joins in, and soon enough the two of them are making such a racket that Oscar’s worried they’ll wake up Zak and Andrea. Oscar has no interest in being on the receiving end of one of Zak’s tirades after being woken up in the middle of a nap.

“Fucking fine,” Oscar grits out. “Fine, we’ll play stupid strip poker.”

The thing is, though, Lando’s the only one out of chips. Which means Lando’s the only one actually having to bet any of his clothing.

Oscar prays Lando will start small. Maybe bet a bracelet or a shoe or something.

Instead, Lando says, “Hoodie.”

So that’s how it’s going to be.

Lando, predictably, loses, playing fucking eight-two offsuit when Oscar has a set.

“Rats,” Lando says gleefully, pulling off his hoodie and tossing it onto a seat across the aisle. He knocks his shoulder against Oscar’s. “Shit luck, eh?”

“Yeah,” Oscar grits out, studiously ignoring looking over at Lando. He sort of hopes that if Lando doesn’t get the attention he clearly desperately craves, he’ll stop.

But on the next hand, Lando says, “Shirt.”

“Fucking hell,” Oscar groans, under his breath.

Lando giggles. “What was that, Osc?”

“Nothing,” Oscar says, staring dejectedly at his hand. He wishes it were something awful, something he could just lose with to keep Lando from ripping off his shirt, but it’s a fucking pair of kings. Oscar feels like the universe is conspiring against him.

The only blessing is that Sam seems oblivious to whatever sexual psychodrama is playing out on the other side of the table, whistling happily as he looks at his cards.

Lando loses again, peeling off his shirt and settling back in his seat.

Oscar really, really doesn’t want to look, but he can’t help but glance over at Lando, his dark nipples tight in the cool air of the plane, lean muscles on full display. Lando’s eyes spark, lower lip pulled between his teeth, grinning like the cat who got the cream. While Sam’s still looking down at his cards, Lando brings a hand up to his chest, running it over his skin before dragging it up to his neck, fingers wrapping suggestively over the thick muscle. Almost like he’s imagining Oscar’s hand there.

“Oh my god,” Oscar groans.

Sam glances up. “All good?”

“Yep,” Oscar says, voice tight, forcing himself to stare at his cards. “Everything’s really, really good.”

Next to him, Lando lets out a delighted little giggle.

As they go around placing their opening bets, Oscar pleads silently with Lando to fold. Just once.

But Lando doesn’t fold. Instead, he announces, “Sweatpants.”

Oscar stumbles to his feet, praying his hoodie’s hiding his boner. He chokes out, “I have to—” and pushes his way past Lando, beelining for the toilet.

He’s furious as he pulls his sweatpants down. Angry as he wraps a hand around his cock. Pissed off as he starts to stroke himself. 

Fucking Lando. Always fucking teasing. Knowing exactly how to get Oscar riled up, how to make him feel like he wants to say fuck it and drag Lando into the plane toilet in front of their coworker and bosses. Even though Oscar feels like he’s losing his mind, he can’t deny that it’s possibly the hottest thing he’s ever experienced. That he knows he’ll put up with it every fucking time if it gets him off this hard.

But he sort of wants to torture Lando back.

Oscar pulls out his phone, opens his camera, and hits record. He tries to put on a show, thumbing over the head, zooming in on the wet tip, twisting his wrist the way Lando always likes when Oscar does it to him. But Oscar's so on edge that he’s coming before he’s even really gotten started, spilling over his fingers to the image of Lando on top of him, Oscar’s fingers on his nipples, Oscar’s hand around his throat as Lando fucks himself on Oscar’s cock. Reminding Lando who’s in control.

But as much as Oscar likes to pretend, he knows it’s not him.

Still, Oscar feels a surge of power as he opens his texts with Lando, sends him the video of him getting off, and writes, Don’t touch yourself until we’re home.

When Oscar comes out of the toilet, he’s pleased to see Lando squirming in his seat, glancing up at Oscar with flushed cheeks, eyes desperate. Sam’s not paying any attention, headphones on, watching something on his phone.

“Having fun?” Oscar asks, blissfully relaxed after his orgasm.

Lando squirms a bit, tugging his hoodie over his crotch. But he grins up at Oscar, the gap between his front teeth on full display, and says, “Loads.”

[w2soneshots]

Two becomes three -George clarkey

words: 2.4k+

warnings: unplanned pregnancy, sickness, worrying, birth.

summary: you and your husband George’s journey to unexpectedly becoming parents along with your social media posts during your pregnancy.

notes: hello my loves! Here’s the request. I love writing fluffy fics like this🥹. I hope you all enjoy this extra long one shot!!🧸🎀🤍 (please lmk what you think!)

Liked by wroetoshaw, mollymae and 934,125 others

y/username: baby has entered the chat @georgeclarkeey

-comments-

chrismd10: congratulations guys❤️

faithloisak: how cute!! So happy for you two🥹✨

max_balegdae: ahhhhhhhhh

y/nfanpage21: there's no fucking way!!🙊

user27549810: the random George jump-scare at the end lol

user60286430: didn't they just get married like five seconds ago?😅

I met my now husband George four years ago. He followed me on instagram, I followed him back and not long after that we were dating. Last year he proposed and just under a month ago we had our wedding, which was beautiful and only had our closet friends and family.

An hour ago I took a pregnancy test. I was only a day late on my period but I took it just in case. I could hardly believe it when I saw two lines and it was so faint that I convinced myself I was seeing things so I decided to sleep on it and then tell George when I knew for sure.

But I just couldn't keep it a secret. I blurted out, "George, I think pregnant." As soon as he walked through the front door after his shoot with Arthur tv. He was baffled. "You- woah- you think?" I nodded. He took a moment to process what I just said. "And you took a test?" He finally asked. "Yeah, the lines were really faint though. I was gonna wait until tomorrow to tell you but- it just came out."

He stepped forward and wrapped his arms around my shoulders. I let out a soft sigh of relief. "If you are then I'll be so happy," he whispered into my hair. I smiled, though he couldn't see me. "I'm so overwhelmed," I mumbled. His hand made its way up to my hair and he gently ran it over my scalp, silently reassuring me.

That night everything felt so strange. You're supposed to take the tests in the morning anyway for the most accurate results so we were just waiting and trying not to get our hopes up in case it wasn't positive.

The next morning I woke to an empty bed. I reached for my phone and then read the text George had sent me just ten minutes ago; "gone to buy more tests, hopefully I'll be back before you're awake x" I sighed softly then got up.

As I was brushing my teeth the front door clicked open and soon George was walking into the ensuite. He smiled softly as he wrapped his arms around my waist from behind, looking at me through the mirror. "Ready, love?"

"You look. I can't." I quickly passed the upside down test to George as we sat on the end of our bed. Just seconds before, the alarm on my phone rung but I couldn't bring myself to look at the test.

He took it and flipped it over. A wide smile spread across his face as an excited chuckle escaped his mouth. "Seriously?" I asked, shocked. "Y- yeah, you're pregnant!" He shot up of the bed. I giggled. "I'm gonna be a dad!" He pulled me up and into a bone crushing hug.

The next two months weren't very fun. At the beginning we were both so ecstatic. Then the morning sickness hit. I could barely eat, sleep and it was becoming impossible to make up excuses for why I couldn't go out.

George was like my rock through the entire ordeal. He was by my side every time I had to run to the bathroom, he held me and gently stroked my back as I tried to get some sleep, he pleaded with the doctor when we went for my first appointment hoping there was something, anything they could do and he let me ramble on about how I just wanted to feel normal again.

Slowly our friends figured it out and offered their help. The girls put together a basket and Faith made sure to include everything that helped her through her first trimester, Chris came round to keep me company while George had to go and film something for a brand deal and George's sister sat with me as we online shopped since I couldn't really go out.

When the sickness slowly started to ease off everyone was so relieved, George especially because he hated seeing me constantly upset. I was finally able to enjoy pregnancy, announce it on instagram and suddenly the last few months were erased from my mind.

Liked by faithloisak, arthurtv and 513,290 others

y/username: love, hate relationship with the heat

-comments-

taliamar: you're glowing babe!!💞

-> y/username: 🫶🏼🫶🏼🫶🏼

georgeclarkeey: 🐊

y/nfanpage21: the puppy🥹

user85299106: this is adorable

At twenty two weeks we went on our little baby moon. I spent twelve days relaxing in the sun while George fussed about suncream and making sure I was in the shade. Since becoming pregnant he's been much more protective, which I don't mind since it's never overbearing. He's just trying to help in anyway possible.

"Good morning sleepy head." George greeted me quietly, sitting on the side of the bed next to my sleepy form and gently pushing the messy hair from my face. "Mornin'" I mumbled, shuffling slightly. He leaned down to press a soft kiss to my forehead before asking if I wanted some breakfast, to which I immediately nodded.

We left our little apartment after getting ready and walked hand in hand down the street towards the cute little outdoor café we'd spent quite a few mornings in the past week and a half.

"Thank you." I smiled at the young girl handing me my pancakes. "Will that be all?" She asked politely after placing George's breakfast in front of him. I nodded and she walked away.

"Mmm, I'm so glad I can actually enjoy food again," I said after swallowing a mouthful of food. George just stared at me. "What?" "I just love watching you." I chuckled. "That sounds a bit creepy babe."

When the day came that our baby moon was over I was sad to be leaving such a beautiful place that I'd made life long memories in but I was secretly very excited to be going home and getting back into normal life.

Liked by chrismd10, taliamar and 623,309 others

y/username: clearing out my camera roll✨

-comments-

arthurtv: fifth slide?😭

-> georgeclarkeey:🫃🏼🤰

faithloisak: stunning!!!

y/nfanpage21: you, the bump, the flowers, all so cute💝

user10479624: you're both going to be the best parents

The next few months were spent relaxing and preparing for the arrival of our baby, who we found out the sex of just after our baby moon. We had a little gender reveal at our apartment with our families and a few special friends. We decided on a cake, classic, cute and delicious.

"I can't tell!" George announced. I stood next to him, my hand holding the knife that was cutting through the cake. Both of us were trying to peek at the sponge but it wasn't until I pulled the slice out that we spotted the pink.

Immediately the room erupted into cheers. I placed it down on a plate along with the knife and I turned to my husband. Tears welled in my eyes and when he wrapped his arms around me and pulled my body off of the ground the commotion around us seemed to disappear and all I could focus on was us.

"We're having a girl," I whispered, as though I was trying to convince myself that this was actually real. He gently placed me down, his hands landing on my hips. "I knew it. Dad intuition goes crazy." I giggled before pushing onto my tip toes and placing a loving kiss to his lips.

After that day I was suddenly obsessed with buying baby clothes, what the nursery was going to look like and the realisation hit me that I was actually going to have to push a human being out of my body, though George was quick to reassure me about that.

"Baby's the size of a small pineapple this week," I informed George as we sat on the couch, my feet resting on his lap as he slowly massaged them through my socks. I turned my phone around so he could see the app that keeps track of the baby.

"That's huge." He muttered, eyes widening slightly. I chuckled. "When she's done cooking she'll be the size of a pumpkin." "Oh god, I'm sorry." My brows furrowed, an amused look on my face. "What are you apologising for?"

"You're gonna have to lug around a pumpkin sized baby," he replied, deadly serious. I just laughed, though I wasn't particularly looking forward to that.

The months flew by and suddenly I was actually carrying a pumpkin sized baby in my stomach. At thirty seven weeks my back constantly ached, I needed to pee every five minutes, I wasn't sleeping properly since I had a future gymnast kicking around in my stomach and all in all I was just uncomfortable.

Since I could now go into labour at any second George was watching me like a hawk. Every grimace when I felt an extra strong kick, every sigh and every time my hand touched my stomach he would sit upright and just wait for me to say something.

"I'm fine, George," I'd say. "Just checking," he'd reply and that interaction would repeat itself another one hundred times before the day ended.

"I won't go if you don't want me to, Chris can find someone else last minute," George whispered as we lay in bed, my back pressed against his chest as he gently drew circles on the side of my bump. "No, I'll be okay. It's only a few hours," I mumbled back, half asleep. "Okay, just promise you'll call me if anything happens?" "Promise."

He left early the next morning to film the football video for Chris' channel, meaning I woke up alone. I went about my routine like normal though it felt like it was taking me longer to do my usual things, like I was moving at snail pace, which was slightly strange but I brushed it off.

An hour later I lay on the couch scrolling through instagram when I felt a twinge in my lower stomach. My brows furrowed slightly. "That was weird," I thought but I continued to scroll.

Until I felt it again. This time I decided to keep my promise to George and phone him. It ring a few times before he picked up. "Everything okay? Is it the baby?" He said immediately in a rushed tone. "I'm not sure, I just feel... weird."

He took in a shaky breath. "I knew I shouldn't have come today! I'm coming home." "It's fine, I'm- we're fine. Calm down-" "no no, I'll be there in twenty minutes, love you." And with that he ended the call. I sighed, feeling slightly bad that he'd had to leave the shoot but also a little relieved.

Just under twenty minutes later he burst through our apartment door. I stood in the kitchen, hands on the countertop as I took a deep breath, eyes squeezed shut. I heard his bags drop then the sound of his feet racing towards me.

"You said you just felt weird!" He placed his hand on the small of my back. I looked up at him as the pain subsided. "I did! It started getting worse after I called you."

George collected himself. "Okay okay, you're having contractions?" "Mhm, think so," I responded quietly. "How far apart?" "Like five minutes." He thought back to the birthing class we'd gone to last month. "I think we've got some time and the woman said the first kid always takes a while so let's not stress," he tried to reassure me and himself.

"I'll go get the bag, you just- uh... breathe." I chuckled softly, already calmer now that he was here. He emerged from our bedroom minutes later with the small suitcase in hand.

It took half a hour to get out of the door, drive to the hospital and get checked into a room. After that we could both relax.

The contractions weren't unbearable but I wanted the epidural as soon as possible. "Hmf-" I squeezed George's hand. "Another one?" He asked softly. All I could do was nod. "You're doing amazing sweetheart, so so good. I'm so proud of you."

Once I got the injection I felt like a million bucks. I couldn't feel the contractions, just a little bit of pressure. I sat in the bed happily as I ate my ice chips. Before I knew it, it was time to push.

Liked by sidemen, prettylittlething and 1,004,586 others

y/username: we've been in our little baby bubble this week but I wanted to officially introduce you to Maddie Clarke🤍👼🏼💫

-comments-

georgeclarkeey: my girls❤️

max_balegdae: yasss mother

taliamar: congratulations🥺💓

y/nfanpage21: I'M CRYING

user02781643: they're literally living the dream life omg!!

"She looks just like you," I said as I watched George's eyes fill with tears, his arms secured around his daughter, just ten minutes after she'd entered the world. He glanced down at me. "I love you so much, this is officially the best day of my life," he whispered. I smiled fondly and somehow I fell in love with George all over again, in a completely different way.

We spent a day and a half in the hospital before being discharged. It had been just me, George and the baby in a little room so it felt amazing to go home. I waddled after my husband as I watched him carry our newborn -who slept soundly in her car seat- out and toward the car. He strapped her in then helped me into the backseat.

"I get what people were taking about now," I said as he stared the engine. "Huh?" "I saw a video about the 'hot dad walk' out of the hospital and I totally get them." He chuckled, though he was cautious of the sleeping baby.

After a few days and once we were in somewhat of a routine his family came over to visit. His slightly younger sister was so excited and could barely keep quiet. "She's adorable. Oh my goodness, look at her little feet!" "Okay everyone, no touching until you've washed your hands!" He announced, pointing towards the kitchen sink.

I watched with a smile on my face as he fussed over whether Maddie's head was supported, it was extremely sweet how much he cared for and loved our daughter. I couldn't wait to watch as he became the best dad ever.

[enchanted-by-fae]

One Day - Azriel x Reader

Part 2

Pairing: Azriel x Hewn City!Reader

Summary: A party is held to celebrate the upcoming marriage between you and the Shadowsinger. You have a conversation with someone unexpected.

Warnings: Arranged marriage, light angst (like just a smidgen towards the end)

2.1k words

A/N: Thank you so freaking much for all the love on part 1 of this series! You guys are amazing!

Part 1 Part 3

Beautiful you thought to yourself as you stood in front of the full length mirror in your bedchambers. The dress was a pale blue with white accents which was an unusual color combination for the Night Court, especially in Hewn City. Typically the court dressed in dark, muted colors. That was never your style though, preferring lighter versions. The dress itself was understated and simple, but still formal enough for tonight.

You made eye contact with yourself taking a few deep breaths in and out. Tonight would be your first time officially meeting your betrothed. The idea of actually seeing him wracked your nerves. Yes, you’ve seen him before but never this close and personal. 

Your father told you the news of your engagement four days ago. Four days of trying to process. Four days of anxiety. Four days of making peace with your fate. The wedding would be in two days which meant you had two days to find steady control with your emotions. You just repeated the mantra in your head it's for your people.

As you closed your eyes to find a moment of serenity, you heard a knock on the door. Your eyes shoot open as you almost jump out of your skin in surprise. You weren’t expecting for someone to be knocking on the door as you had agreed with your parents to meet them at the party.

Rushing over to the door, you do the best you can to not trip over the dress. You pull the door open and you find a face you weren’t expecting. You dip into a low curtsy as you find none other than your High Lord standing in front of you.

—

“My lord,” your voice as even as you can make it. A mask of coolness washes over your face, at least you hope so. Inside you were shaking to your core. Had you done something to offend the High Lord? You could only pray to the Mother you hadn’t.

The High Lord speaks to you then, knowing full well you were nervous, “stand. And please call me Rhysand.” You move to stand as your lord commands. You try not to look too confused at his second request. Since childhood you had been told to fear the powerful male. The idea of calling him by his name and not his title, it felt too familiar. 

You steady your voice as you ask “how may I be at your service?”

“I was hoping to escort you to the party. I have a suspicion that we should speak,” he offers you his arm, and you finally look to make eye contact with him. As you met his eyes he shared with you what seemed to be a… a smile? No, that couldn’t be right. Everyone knows that the High Lord- Rhysand, you suppose- doesn’t smile. 

He clearly can see the confusion that’s evident on your face. He just chuckles at you. You didn’t know he could laugh like that either. He just offered his arm out again, waiting for you to indulge his request. You motion to take his arm and he begins to escort you to the main hall.

“You thought we should talk, Rhysand?” you try to test out the nickname but it leaves a weird feeling on your tongue. Maybe you could get used to it? You had to, you supposed, if you were to marry one of his most trusted friends.

Rhysand’s smile was on full display now as it was just the two of you in the hall. You couldn’t quite believe the fact that the High Lord was currently your personal escort, or the fact that he was smiling. “Yes, after all you will be joining our family soon,” he tells you. “I just wanted to see how you were feeling… about everything.”

You can’t help but feel relieved that he just wanted to see what your feelings are on the matter. You obviously can’t tell him the full truth since he would likely be offended, considering your soon-to-be-husband was practically a brother to him. 

You offer up a smile of your own and turn your head towards him “I’m very well. I feel hopeful, bringing together the people of our two courts. It will be well worth it,” you didn’t lie. It wasn’t exactly the honest truth but it was half of it, which should count.

“Huh,” is all Rhys could say in response, his smile only dropping slightly. You and he both turned your heads forward again. “I’ll be honest,” he starts while dropping the smile, “Az isn’t all too thrilled either.” You’re not surprised. Of course the Shadowsinger wouldn’t be jumping for joy at the arrangement. He’s about to marry a girl from a city he’s spent his entire life hating. 

“I wouldn’t expect him to be, Rhysand, I am a stranger,” you explain. Rhysands smile returns, this time close-lipped but still there. 

Rhysand released a sigh, “I had to give Azriel a talking to about an hour ago saying he must be on his very best behavior. I promise you, Y/N,” he halted his walking and turned to face you, “no harm is to come to you. Az isn’t like that anyways. I just want you to know that you're in safe hands,” he gently informed you. 

You offer Rhysand a real, genuine smile now as you haven’t felt this taken care of probably since you were a girl. “Thank you,” you whisper, gratefully.

His smile is toothy again, “there’s nothing to thank me for,” he whispers back. “Now,” he voice returns to full volume and full of excitement, “to the party?” his arm coming back to loop around yours. 

This time you take it gladly.

—

You and Rhysand make your way to the grand room where the party is to be held. You can already hear the loud chatter of the people waiting for you to arrive. Before walking in, Rhys turns to you again, “nervous?” He knows the answer already.

“Very,” you respond, in full truth this time.

His contagious smile never faltered, “it’ll be great! When we go in I’ll take you directly to Az ok?”

You give Rhysand a tight nod in response. You take a deep breath in, hold it, and exhale. Rhysand nods for the guards to open the grand doors for the two of you, making your fashionably late grand entrance. 

The doors open and you’re met with the reveal of a packed ballroom of expecting guests, waiting to give their well wishes to the “happy couple”. Rhysand escorts you into the room and Azriel is very easy to find, since he’s standing there front and center. It was hard to tell if he was standing there awaiting your arrival, or if it was coincidence. 

Rhysand leads you over to Azriel, the first and really only feature of his you notice is his height. He was tall. Earlier when Rhysand came to your door you noticed how tall he was but Azriel, he had a few good inches on Rhys. 

Rhysand drops your arm and gestures his arm towards your betrothed, “Y/N meet Azriel,” he then gestures to you “Azriel meet Y/N.”

You dip into a curtsy and Azriel goes to bow, “a dance, my lady?” he asks you, returning to his normal stance from his bow. You’re taken aback by the sound of his voice. It’s deep but smooth. It sounds as if it was crafted to lure prey into a trap. You were immediately drawn to it, clearly his intention.

You rise from your curtsy and move to make eye contact with him for the first time. You swear all the air in your lungs was taken away from you at that moment. You’ve seen him lurking the halls the entirety of your life but here you were for the first time, directly face-to-face. He was beautiful. 

His eyes were a captivating hazel that you had never truly seen on any fae, until now. You felt a twitch in your stomach at the sight. His features apart from his eyes were gorgeous too. From his golden skin to his dark hair. That’s when you noticed the massive bat-like wings that he carried behind him. They were stunning, you could only help but wonder what they might feel like on your fingers. You shake the thought from your head and try to remain calm.

You glance down briefly and see that he has his hand outstretched for you to take. Right, he asked you for a dance. You go to reach out for his hand and notice the scars that litter his skin there. Azriel looks down to see where your hands almost meet, beginning to pull his hand away. You grab it before he can fully lower it.

“I would love to,” you spoke softly. You meet his eyes again and all you can feel is the safety Rhysand promised washing over you. It’s a perplexing feeling. Always being told to run in the opposite direction of the famed spymaster. But, here you are. Holding his hand and wishing for him to hold you as you dance. He could never hurt you. 

Azriel gives you a nod and leads you to the dance floor. You take the time to glance around the ballroom and notice just how many people are in attendance. Nerves return to you as the packed ballroom looks at you and Azriel. He places one hand in yours and the other comes to your waist. You can practically feel your heart skip a beat. You go to put your free hand close to his shoulder, feeling the muscle under the black jerkin he wears. The orchestra begins to play a waltz, one that you’re luckily familiar with, and your partner starts to lead you.

Azriel, sensing your nerves, looks at you hoping to meet your eyes again. “Just look at me, ok?” he coaxed. 

You meet his stare for the third time and while you should be used to it by now, you can’t help but melt. He offers you the tiniest smile. So small you could miss it from far away. But, as he stands here in front of you, it steadies you in a way you couldn’t have imagined. The smile is when you realize that maybe he truly isn’t as bad as what the rumors claim. After all, Rhysand gave you a smile and he turned out to be shockingly pleasant.

He leads you through the rest of the dance in a comfortable silence, still wearing his secret smile. When the orchestra comes to the end of the song Azriel removes his hands from you and you find yourself almost missing the contact. 

He gives you another bow and you curtsy back. The room erupts in applause and that’s when you remember the large audience that had you so nervous before. He makes his way closer to you once more and leans in to whisper in your ear. You hold your breath as you wait for him to speak.

“Thanks for the dance,’ he murmurs before stalking off back to the crowd. He leaves you there, alone on the dance floor and something in you feels crushed. You remind yourself that this is an arranged marriage, he doesn’t owe you anything. He didn’t even owe you that dance. It doesn’t stop you from feeling lonely, however. You’re not left alone for long though as you soon find your parents making their way over to you. 

“Y/N, my darling girl,” your mother greets with a warm embrace. You were quite lucky to have her. Both of your parents were rather good to you considering the environment in which you live. 

Your father stands there, not one to show public affection, “you did good.” The praise was enough for you. The two of them walk you back into the crowd, the opposite direction of Azriel, as they have you mingling with their friends. 

At one point you find Azriel talking with a group of people, one you recognize as Keir's daughter Mor. She was much older than you but she too originally came from the Hewn City. You always heard she was a disgrace to her family but seeing her now, she looks happy to have gotten away. Soon, you’ll be leaving too. Off to live wherever it is your husband resides. You can’t help but feel excited at the idea of the adventure, although you weren’t sure if you're brave enough.

Azriel looks up from his conversation then. It was almost as if he could sense you looking at him because he makes direct eye contact with you immediately. He offers one more secret smile, you can’t help but wonder if it’s just for you, or not. Azriel quickly goes back to his conversation.

He doesn’t acknowledge you for the rest of the evening.

—

Tag List (let me know if you want added!)

@phoenix666stuff @tele86 @rcarbo1 @1enas-12

[millers-girl]

what it takes

chapter 2 of willow & whiskey

a/n: thank you all so much for all the love the first chapter’s gotten 🫶🏼 ps: I ended up changing the title of the fic because I saw someone post another joel fic under a similar name and didn’t want any confusion :)

pairing: Joel Miller x f!reader

summary: the trek to the state house begins... and ends in a way none of you expected.

warnings/tags: age gap, adult language, blood and violence, death

word count: 4.2k

series masterlist

When Ellie woke the next morning, head lifting from where it had been nestled in your lap, she found you already awake.

Your back rested uncomfortably against the bookshelf behind you, posture stiff, but your expression was calm – watchful but not hostile. Your gun was within reach, resting on the ground beside you, yet your hands never reached for it.

Joel and Tess sat in front of you, a safe distance away, mirroring your posture. Tess seemed at least composed; Joel, on the other hand, was tense, his gaze fixed on Ellie.

Despite the clear unease in the room, you offered Ellie a small, reassuring smile as she stirred awake. Your fingers brushed through her hair – a light touch that spoke volumes and comforted Ellie beyond belief.

"Morning," Ellie greeted, voice dripping with sarcasm when she turned to the smugglers. The moment she moved to stand and use the restroom, Joel's gun was up.

Without hesitation, you moved too – not for your gun, but to shield Ellie with your body.

"Jesus," you cursed, lifting your hand up in exasperation. "You're one of those shoot first, ask questions later kinda guys, huh?" 

Joel's glare flickered to you, but his grip on the gun didn't waver. You sighed, reaching down and pushing your own gun further away in an act of reluctant trust. There, you seemed to say. A truce.

You knew he wouldn't shoot – he couldn't. Ellie had made it through the night and if he didn't believe she was immune, he had to at least believe she wasn't going to turn. Her body resisted the bite.

Still, he didn't lower his weapon.

"Wow," you muttered, crossing your arms over your chest. "You must be a hoot during a trust exercise." 

Ellie rolled her eyes, moving to your side to try another approach. "Do I look infected?" 

"Show us your arm," Joel said flatly.

Ellie huffed but did as asked, rolling her sleeve up to reveal the same bite – unchanged.

Tess leaned forward, her tone more curious then accusatory. "What was Marlene doing with an infected kid?"

"She's not infected," you corrected gently. "We went to her when Ellie was bitten. Marlene had her tested every day to see if she was getting sick."

"Test her how?"

Ellie groaned, shifting from foot to foot. "I have to pee."

"Test you how?" Tess pushed, turning to the girl.

"They'd make me count to 10 and hold out my hand and then keep it steady. But, you know, I think what really impressed them was the fact that I didn't turn into a fucking monster. Now, can I please?" She asked, turning to you.

You hesitated, casting a glance at Joel – who was still gripping his gun like he expected Ellie to morph into a Clicker mid-sentence.

Your lips pressed together, but you turned back to Ellie, eyes softening. "Go ahead." 

Joel didn't move, but his grip tightened.

You sighed dramatically, giving him a look that was more amused than combative. "So she survived the night, which is as much proof as there possibly could be, and you still don't believe, old man?" 

Joel scowled. "Old man?" 

"Hey, if the shoe fits." You smirked before stepping back to stand watch near Ellie.

Joel muttered something under his breath, but his gun finally lowered.

As you leaned against the doorway, listening to Tess and Joel whispering amongst themselves – they were much louder than they thought they were being.

You could tell Tess was starting to believe you; she mentioned Ellie making it through the night without turning. Joel, however, was less convinced, stating they should sneak Ellie back into the QZ and find a different way to get the battery.

Ellie was done and walking back into the room before they could come to an agreement. 

Then, the four of you sat down and ate what you assumed to be lunch, considering you'd all slept through breakfast after the long, grueling journey the night before.

Now, in this abandoned office building you were in, the air was damp, smelled like concrete and mildew. You perched yourself on top of a mossy spot, stomach already grumbling.

"You two can share some of ours," Tess offered, holding out a pitiful-looking ration of dry, stale food.

You winced at the sight. "Thanks. Marlene sent us with our own."

Tess and Joel gnawed at their jerky—tough, unappetizing, and depressingly dry—while you and Ellie tore into your sandwiches, inhaling them. The stark contrast was almost embarrassing.

"Is that chicken?" Tess asked, eyes widened in something bordering reverence.

Ellie nodded mid-chew. "Marlene said they get it from smugglers... Guess not you guys."

You snorted at that comment, nearly choking on your bite.

"Why are you so important to Marlene?"

Ellie hesitated to answer, giving you the space to. "There's a Firefly base camp somewhere out west with doctors. They're working on a cure."

Joel hummed, low and unimpressed. "Mhm. I've heard this before."

"Whatever happened to Ellie – "

" – is the key to finding the vaccine," Joel finished in a deadpan mimic, as if he'd heard it a million times. "That's what this is about? Vaccines, miracle cures – none of it works. Ever."

"Hey, fuck you, man," Ellie snapped, bristling at his cynicism. "I didn't ask for this!"

"You and me both," he mumbled before turning to Tess. "This isn't gonna work. We need to go back."

Tess exhaled, rubbing at her temple before leveling him with a look. "Let's just finish it. Even if she is or isn't what the Fireflies believe she is, we'll get what we want."

Joel hesitated, jaw locking as silence stretched between you all. Then, with a begrudging nod, he turned to you and relented, "If she so much as twitches..."

Right on cue, Ellie let out a gurgling snarl, snapping her teeth together to mimic an Infected.

Joel's glare cut to you, and you swatted Ellie's arm to get her to stop. "She'll behave," you promised. "Okay?" You glanced between them, gaze lingering on Joel, trying to smooth the tension in the air. 

"Okay," he huffed in surrender, going to gather his pack so you all could begin the day's trek. 

As he grabbed his gun off the floor, Ellie immediately piped up, "Can I have a gun?" 

"Absolutely not," Joel growled, at the same time as you offered a soft, "Maybe when you're older." 

Ellie huffed. "Okay, Jesus, fine. I'll just throw a fucking sandwich at them." 

After packing up, Joel led the way outside, holding the door open as you passed through. You glanced up at him, murmuring a quiet, "Thank you."

It was a simple thing, but it still surprised him. He hadn't heard someone be so polite in a long time. He didn't know what to do with it. So, he simply grunted in response but retaking his position at the head of the group, beside Tess. 

Ellie, walking beside you, turned her head to take in the ruined city, her expression shifting from wary to awestruck. For the first time, she was seeing downtown in the daylight, and the sheer scale of it had her stunned into silence.

Your heart swelled seeing her take it all in; she was utterly in awe. It was a welcomed, rare view and you took a mental picture of the sight before nudging her.

"Cool, huh?"

She nodded eagerly, jaw still practically on the floor, eyes flickering across shattered windows, rusted cars, and vines creeping up twenty-story buildings. It was the quietest you'd ever seen her, just soaking in all the beauty the world still had.

Tess eventually informed everyone that the route to the State House required passage through a hotel. On the long walk there, Ellie kept nudging Tess with questions – about Infected, the bombings in the city when the outbreak happened, whatever she saw. It was clear she was starting to warm up to her. The same could be said for Tess, who did her best to answer all of Ellie's inquiries.

That meant you got stuck walking beside Joel. 

"Your watch isn't the only thing that's broken," you commented absently, eyes glued to the pair walking ahead.

Joel made a low noise in his throat. "Hmm?"

You motioned to his side. "Your hand."

He subconsciously tucked the hand out of view. "Oh. Maybe a hairline," he muttered. "It'll heal fast."

"It'll heal wrong," you corrected. "I've got some compression wrappings and anti-inflammitories in my pack. You can use them when we stop."

He studied you for a beat before asking, "You used to be a doctor in the QZ?"

A laugh slipped out before you could stop it, but your smile faltered quickly. "No, I just... I just read a lot."

Joel hadn't known you for that long, but he could tell you were a shitty liar. Still, he made the decent decision not to press.

"What'd you do before the outbreak?" You asked quietly, shifting the topic.

"I was a contractor," Joel answered. "Used to build houses, stores." 

"Did you like it?" 

He shrugged. "Paid the bills." 

Your brows furrowed at that. "You didn't have a dream job? Like, I don't know – CEO? Musician? Dad?" 

His gaze snapped at you at that last one. Dad? 

You shrugged. "My mom used to say it was a full-time gig."

Joel didn’t respond. He just walked in silence for a few moments before pivoting to Ellie, telling her to drink some water, making sure she stayed hydrated.

Tess took notice of the interaction, finding the corners of her lips twitching up ever so slightly. It was nice to see someone who still believed in small kindnesses.

She cleared her throat, asking, "Hey, nobody's gonna be coming after you two, right? Like, Mom... Dad... Boyfriends?"

You shared a quick look with Ellie before answering for both of you. "No." Your eyes dropped to the ground as you added, "No one's coming." 

The words sat heavy in the air.

"Hotel" was a generous word to describe the building entered; "swamp" was far more accurate. 

The air was thick with dampness, and a pool of stagnant, murky water stretched out in the lobby, complete with lily pads, frogs, and the occasional floating scrap of debris.

The waist-deep water was vile, seeping into your jeans and shoes, turning everything a miserable mossy green.

Ten floors up, your group hit its first obstacle: a jammed door. The only way through was for someone to climb over the adjacent rubble and clear the blockage from the other side.

Tess volunteered, which left you, Joel, and Ellie alone in the hallway.

After a few moments of silence, Joel eyed Ellie’s switchblade tricks. "Nice knife. Where’d you learn to do that?"

"The circus," she deadpanned, causing you to nudge her side, silently telling her to knock it off. "Where are you from?" Ellie forced the question out, trying to make small talk.

"Texas," he answered. And the moment he said it, you let out a snort.

Of course he was from Texas. He may not have oozed Southern charm but his accent easily gave him away. That, and how naturally gentlemanly he was – always opening doors for you girls when it was safe, going through them first when it wasn't; lending a steadying hand when you had to climb over a particularly tricky hurdle. Practical. Protective.

His gaze was immediately fixed on you, lips parting to speak before Ellie beat him to it. 

"What about Tess?"

"Detroit... it's in Michigan."

Ellie rolled her eyes. "I go to school. I know where Detroit is." A moment of silence passed before she continued. "So, uh, you and Tess like a – "

Joel cut her off. "Pass."

She huffed, then tried again. "How'd you end up in Boston?"

"Pass. No more questions about me."

You cut in then, interrupting. "You got to ask her about the knife. She gets a question."

"She evaded mine," Joel shot back.

"Calls himself old, but his memory is sharp as a whistle," you mumbled, crossing your arms over your chest.

"Kid, you were the one who called me old," he corrected, one brow lifting. 

You shrugged. "Like I said – sharp as a whistle." 

Ellie spoke again when silence blanketed over your group. "How long do Infected live?"

Joel was quick to quip. "Oh, I thought you went to school."

You chuckled, ruffling Ellie's hair while she shrugged. "I never said it was a good school."

Still, Joel answered. "Some last about a month or two. But there's others been walkin' around 'bout twenty years."

"Ever kill one?"

"Yeah, I killed lots of 'em," Joel answered.

"Was it hard? Like, knowing they were people once?"

Your gaze flickered up to Joel then, waiting for his answer. 

He simply offered Ellie a shrug and a, "Sometimes."

"What about that guy last night?"

Before Joel could even begin to form an answer, Tess suddenly appeared on the other side of the door, pulling it open for you all to pass through.

"Saved by the bell," you sang as you shuffled past Joel – who, of course, held the door open for you. Gentleman.

The hike from the hotel to the museum—your next stop—was short. What awaited you inside, however, felt like a lifetime.

Even in its decrepit state, you were surprised by how much of the museum still stood. Most exhibits were intact, their artifacts frozen behind glass displays, covered in years of dust. It was eerie—like a ghost of the past stubbornly clinging on through infinite layers of dust, refusing to be forgotten.

Turning a corner from the visitor center, you suddenly froze. "Oh, shit," you breathed, taking a sharp step back.

Joel was at your side in an instant, gun and flashlight raised. It took only a second to register the sight before you – what was left of a security guard, his body torn apart, limbs at unnatural angles, as if something had tried to pull him in different directions at once.

"What the fuck did that?" Ellie gasped from beside you, making you turn her face into your chest to block the gruesome view from her. She didn't need to be scarred like that.

Your head snapped to Tess as she softly spoke, "Maybe... maybe he was attacked outside and crawled through the doors. Door was open – could've been him... I don't hear anything." 

"Who would you hear?" Ellie asked, pulling her head away from your chest to meet Tess's eyes.

Joel's hand immediately shot out in warning – an unspoken command to be quiet. Tess had gone stiff beside him, eyes scanning, body tense. 

Your stomach tightened. "What – did an Infected do that?" you whispered, your own eyes widening.

Tess and Joel shared a look before Joel turned to you and Ellie, voice low but firm. "Okay, from this point forward, we are silent. Not quiet – silent." Ellie went to open her mouth to ask why but your arm wrapped around her, hand clasping over her mouth. "No questions. Just do it." 

Ellie opened her mouth to ask why, but you were already wrapping an arm around her shoulders, pressing a hand lightly over her lips. She looked up at you, brows furrowed, and you simply nodded before letting go.

The group moved carefully through the museum, Tess bringing up the rear, keeping you and Ellie sandwiched safely between her and Joel.

Then, just as you reached the top of the stairs, the entire structure beneath you gave way.

The deafening crash sent dust and debris flying, shoving you, Tess, and Ellie onto the floor. You barely had time to scramble up before Joel’s hand was on your waist, pulling you up, steadying you. Your eyes shot up to meet his, lips going to form a grateful smile, until a screech echoed through the halls.

Joel and Tess's guns were immediately trained towards the clicking of the Infected, while you began to slowly pull Ellie back further into the room, creating some distance. Tess followed, then Joel.

Then the Infected.

Just one. 

Coming into the room and forcing your group up against a glass exhibit. Its loud screeching filled the room, which was otherwise quiet, save for Ellie's heavy breathing.

You reached out, hand on her shoulder, grounding her – silently pleading with her to stop breathing so loud.

You're okay, you mouthed to her, nodding encouragingly. 

The Infected rounded the glass case, coming around to Joel's side, oblivious. The moment Ellie's eyes caught the Infected, closer than she'd ever seen one, her breathing hitched, loudly. 

The Infected instantly turned to her, screeching loudly. Joel began to shoot at it, shouting for you to run, and you didn’t hesitate – grabbing Ellie’s wrist, dragging her through the room as Tess fired behind you. You stumbled over a display stand, the impact sending you sprawling.

"Run!" you shouted to Ellie, yanking your gun up and firing, taking down one of them just in time. You bolted, rounding the corner, breath ragged.

Rounding another corner, you spotted the beam of Joel's flashlight before you saw him, pressed up against another cabinet, reloading his gun.

Upon noticing you, he motioned you to him, letting you take his place against the cabinet as he continued to refill the chamber of his gun.

As if on queue, you heard the Infected nearby, quietly clicking.Your fingers curled into Joel’s jacket without thinking, pulling him closer. His body was tense, his heartbeat a wild rhythm against your skin. You tilted your head up, catching his gaze in the dim light. He was already looking at you.

A silent moment.

Then, his hand found your waist, pulling you even closer—steadying you both.

Carefully, you pressed your half-loaded gun into his palm, exchanging weapons without a word.

In the dark, your hand found his, exchanging his gun for yours, which was at least half-loaded.

Then, he nudged his head towards the exit sign in the far corner, and you nodded your head, quietly following after him, one hand clutching his jacket so you would't lose him.

You two shuffled along the perimeter of the room, only freezing when Joel accidentally stepped on some broken glass, the noise loudly ringing in your ears.

In a flash, the Infected was on you two. It knocked you both onto the ground, screeching as its claws scraped against your jacket. Joel kicked it off, scrambling up, but you were faster—your gun already raised.

One shot to the head. It dropped.

You waited a moment, ears perked, listening for more Infected. Hearing nothing, your slumped forward, forehead resting between Joel's shoulder blades.

"Oh, my God," you mumbled against his jacket, trying to catch your breath.

"You alright?" He asked from in front, gun still pointed at the only entrance to the room.

You nodded against his back before leaning your head back. "You?" 

He nodded, leading you out of the room. You met Tess and Ellie by the exit, where all of you climbed out of a window. While Tess sat down to tend to a twisted ankle, you and Ellie made your way across a wooden beam connecting the museum to another rooftop. 

You two took in the view of the setting sun before you, reflecting on the shiny gold dome of the State House – it was beautiful.

"That was insane," Ellie began, letting out a shaky laugh.

You nodded your head, heart just now beginning to beat regularly in your chest. "Are you okay?" 

She nodded, showing you her arm. "Just a scratch. Least I didn't shit my pants." 

"Proud of you," you teased, tousling her hair. 

A silence passed before Ellie said, "That was scary, huh?" You nodded your head. "It was me breathing too loud that caused all that... right?" 

You shrugged. "Probably would've been me tripping over something if you gave it enough time. Or Joel grumbling about how musty it was in there." That made her laugh. "You were just unlucky this time... You'll get better with more experience."

Soon, Joel joined your duo, also taking in the view.

"Is it everything you hoped for?" He asked Ellie, watching her take it all in.

"Jury's still out," she replied. "But, man, you can't deny that view." 

Your smile matched hers as you wrapped an arm around her, squeezing her close to you. You pressed a soft kiss to the top of her head before Tess came over, ready to make the home stretch of your trek.

As you neared the State House, you reached for Ellie's hand, giving it a squeeze. 

"You okay?" You asked. "Bit quiet." 

She nodded, but her eyes betrayed her, flickering to the fresh scratch on her arm. "What if – "

You were already shaking your head, reassuring her. "You're good," you said softly, voice steady and sure.

"How do you know?" 

"Because I'm your big sister. And big sisters know everything." 

She managed a small smile then, gripping your hand tighter as you walked the rest of the way.

The Firefly truck was parked outside, right where Marlene said it would be – only, there weren't any Fireflies in sight... until you rounded the other side of the truck.

One body, already starting to decay.

And a trail of blood, leading inside.

Tess stormed ahead, motioning for you three to follow.

The scene inside wasn't any better. More bodies, more blood, more death.

"What the hell happened?" you murmured, instinctively pulling Ellie closer as you took in the destruction.

Joel surveyed the room with narrowed eyes. "One of 'em got bit." He gestured toward patient zero, whose twisted corpse lay slumped against the wall. "Turned the others. Healthy ones fought the sick ones. Everyone lost."

You went to speak but were cut off by Tess rummaging through the leftover supplies, looking for a radio. Coming up short, she turned to Ellie and snapped, "Where did Marlene say that she was taking you?" 

"Uh, I don't know. Just west." 

"Just west – okay, fuck. Well, I mean, one of them's gotta have a map on them, right?" 

She dropped to her knees, flipping through the pockets of a dead Firefly. Your stomach twisted at the sight, eyes flickering over to Joel to find some repreieve. 

"Tess," he began, voice sharp. "It's over. We are going home." 

"It's not my fucking home!" she snapped, turning to look at him.

You tensed, stepping in front of Ellie. There was something in Tess's voice – desperation. Like a string pulled so tight it was about to snap.

She exhaled sharply. "I'm staying... Our luck had to run out sooner or later." 

"Fuck," Ellie muttered under her breath, making both you and Joel turn to her. "She's infected." 

Tess scoffed, yanking down her collar to reveal the ugly bite blooming on her neck. "Oops, right?" 

Your stomach dropped.

She turned to Ellie, softly asking her to take her bandage off. She did so, and her scratch was starting to heal, the redness nearly gone now. "Look, Joel, this is real. She's fucking real... I need you to get her to Bill and Frank's. They'll take the girls off your hands. They'll handle it from there."

Joel was already shaking his head. "No, no, no. I can't. They won't take 'em."

"They will," Tess insisted. "You'll convince them. And if you can't, she will." She turned to you, and your throat went dry. "She's sweet and good and kind. Frank will see that. I mean, you saw how he welcomed us; he'll roll the red carpet out for her." 

Neither you nor Joel could bring yourselves to speak. 

Tess turned back to Joel, voice trembling now. "I never ask you for anything... Not to feel the way I felt, not – " She stopped herself, inhaling sharply. "This is your chance. You get them there, you keep Ellie alive, and you set everything right. All the shit we did." She swallowed hard. "Please say yes, Joel. Please." 

Before he could respond, a rasping sound from behind made you snap around.

One of the Infected—half-crushed beneath another body—was waking, reaching blindly for Ellie.

You didn’t hesitate. You drew your gun and fired, but in doing so, the Infected's hand came to rest on a patch of cordyceps. Fuck.

As Tess had said, it grew underground, stretching long distances. And now that you had triggered It, you may have woken a dozen Infected from somewhere else. Now they knew where you were; they were coming.

Joel darted to the door, peeking outside to see a swarm of them running toward the State House.

"They're comin'," he said, rushing back over. "Maybe a minute." 

 Tess didn't waste a second. She pushing over a stack of barrels, oil spilling across the floor, then scattered grenades into the mess.

You watched silently as she did so, eyes filling with tears, throat burning as realization sank In.

"What are you doing?" Ellie asked, voice small.

"Making sure they don't follow you." 

Tess stepped closer to Joel, whispering something to him. Whatever it was, it made his face go blank, his eyes darkening with something heavy. And then, before Ellie could react, Joel grabbed her arm and dragged her toward the exit.

"We're not leaving her! Get off me!" She wailed, thrashing in his grip.

Joel barely glanced at you—just a brief flicker of his eyes, checking that you were following.

But you weren’t moving. Not yet.

You turned to Tess. She was already reaching for her lighter, hands steady.

"Thank you," you whispered.

Her lips twitched. Not quite a smile. Just the ghost of one.

Then you turned to follow after Joel. 

You barely made it a few yards before the explosion ripped through the air, a fireball swallowing the entrance to the State House. The force of it shook the ground, heat pulsing at your back.

Tess was gone.

Your group immediately felt smaller without her.

The weight of it settled heavy in your chest, pressing down, making it hard to breathe.

This was going to be the price of getting out west – you either made it or paid with your lives. Suddenly, the stakes seemed much higher than you'd ever anticipated. And, all you wanted to do was run back to your scrappy little QZ apartment and huddle under the covers until the storm passed.

Instead, you kept walking.

Because Ellie was still holding your hand.

And you weren’t letting go.

Not now. Not ever.

.

.

.

taglist: @orcasoul @lizlil @littleshadow17 @joeldjarin @mrsyixingunicorn10 @luvwanda @escaping-reality8

[secretlysamcro]

hello my darling! 🖤

I am requesting prompt #3 with our Jacky Boy, ofc! he’s had enough of my shit today 😏 (but please don’t be too mean to me 🥹 I’m just a girl 🎀)

kthanxbyyyeeee you’re amazing 🫶🏻

It was another usual night at the clubhouse, barbecue, beers and bikes lined up in unison. The music was loud, the guys even louder, everyone catching the vibe.

Everyone except you.

You storm past Tig, eyes sharp and jaw tight, throwing daggers at anyone who so much as looked in your direction. You didn’t care that people were staring, or that the way you were walking gave away just how recently you’d been bent over the dorm room sink with Jax buried deep, your hands slipping on the porcelain whilst you moaned into the mirror.

And knowing him? He definitely thinks that little session had straightened you out.

But it hadn’t.

“Uh oh” Opie chuckles, watching you make a beeline towards the bar. “That little storm cloud your fault?”

Jax exhales dragging a hand through his hair “yup” he mutters, already moving. “thought I had her handled”

He caught you just as you reached the bar, snaking a hand around your wrist and tugging you in close, subtle but firm.

“Didn’t I fuck the attitude outta you already?” He whispers low against your ear.

Your eyes narrow, lips curling into a smirk as you lean back into him “you thought you did”

He laughs under his breath, that smug fucking grin growing on his face. “Nah, I know I did, that little whimper you let out when I…”

You turn your head, shooting him a sharp glare, almost telling him to stop with your eyes.

And then, whilst everyone around was distracted, he lets his hands drift slow and sneakily enough to get away with it. Fingertips brushing along your hip down to hem of your dress, and then just under it, two of his fingers grazing the inside of your thigh, teasing, testing.

“There she is” he murmurs, his voice like silk. “Still wet for me, huh”

Your mouth parts, but no words come out.

“Still mad babe?” He whispers, his fingers dipping just a little higher.

You swallow hard, eyes flickering past him making sure no one is paying attention. The music and the chatter blurred into the background as his fingers flirt with your pussy over the lace, almost crossing that dangerous line.

“Fuck off Jax” you mutter, but it comes out flustered and breathless.

“Let me know when you’re ready to get some sense fucked into you” he says, stepping back and taking a beer from the bar like nothing just happened.

xoxo secretly samcro

@puffins-muffins love ya honey! Hope you love it 🖤

[ashwhowrites]

If you still write for Jonathan, can I ask for a "x female reader" one shot for him?

Basically, the reader is a sexy top model who has to do a nude photo shoot, with Jonathan as her photographer.

Jonathan is a little embarrassed, and the reader, noticing that, starts to flirt with him and seduce him.

Jon opposes at first, but the reader continues, she says that it's okay, that he deserves it.

So in the end, Jonathan accepts, and him and the reader fuck passionately.

(Also, there has to be a scene where Jonathan sucks the reader's boobs. It's a little desire of mine.)

I hope this is what you wanted and you enjoy it. Thank you for requesting 🫶🏻

Nude model

Jonathan was slowly turning his hobby of photography into a job. He saw a few flyers around town saying, photographers wanted. It had decent pay and he did need the extra cash, so he went in and got the job.

He was already at the studio, testing his lights when he heard the sound of heels clicking against the floor. He slowly turned around and his breath got stuck in his throat.

A girl was strutting into the studio, a small robe on her body. Her heels made her legs look sexy and long, catching Jonathan's eye.

"You must be Jonathan?" She asked. Jonathan couldn't believe how gorgeous she was, but he guessed she was a model. She was very polite, holding out her hand. He shook her hand back, cringing as he could feel how sweaty his palms were.

"Uh yes ma'am," Jonathan stuttered, she smiled at the nervousness in his voice. She released his hand and walked over to the small couch in the middle of the room.

"This where you want me?" she asked, Jonathan gulped as she crawled onto the couch giving him a clear view of her ass.

"Yeah, um that's good. Can you lay down for me?"

"Of course, sir," she teased, licking her lips as she moved on to her back. She played with the strings of her robe, a playful smirk on her face. "Time to untie this?"

"Yeah, I can turn around to give you so-" He stopped his sentence short when she undid the robe, the material falling on both sides of her body. He gulped and couldn't stop his eyes from looking at her naked body.

"Make me look beautiful, Jonathan," she giggled

"You don't need me for that," he admitted, a shy blush on his cheeks as he prepped his camera against his eye. "Arch your back a little for me?"

She did as he asked, arching her back and pushing her breasts out. Jonathan's finger shook as he snapped the shot, he fought to ignore the tightness in his jeans. He snapped a few more shots before he directed her into another pose.

She could tell he was getting more nervous as the time went by. He kept licking his lips and brushing his palms against his jeans. His voice was a little shaky and he only looked at her face. She found it adorable. He had this look of unsureness in his eyes and it made her stomach burn.

"Can you um-uh-" He stuttered, coughing to clear his throat. He felt hot under her stare and playful smirk

"Tell me what you want, Jonathan," she said. He ignored the way his body shivered without his control. He swore she was speaking seductively but assumed he was wrong.

"Can you stand in front of the mirror for me? Hands covering your breasts and one leg in front of the other," he instructed

"Yes, sir," she said with a wink. She walked over to the mirror, placing her hands over her breasts but didn't pose her legs. She faked confusion as she looked over her shoulder.

"Can you help me move my legs the way you want?"

He nodded and walked over, he began to instruct but she pressed her finger to his lips.

"I said, help me move my legs," she spoke slowly and deeply, hinting that her words had another meaning.

"I'm sorry?" Jonathan squeaked. His face burned from being this close to her. Her smell was intoxicating and her skin seemed to glow.

She didn't speak as she pulled the camera over his neck and set it on the floor. She grasped his hands and placed them on her hips.

"It's okay, don't be nervous," she cooed, "I want you to touch me, do you want to touch me?" she asked

Jonathan nodded, lost for words. She moved his hands up her body, stopping at her breasts. Jonathan gulped as he stared at his hands on her breasts.

"What do you want to do with them?" she asked, he looked up into her eyes for a split second. She could see the nervousness and hesitance in his eyes. "Have you touched a girl before?"

"Just once," Jonathan admitted, "Girls usually don't give me the chance to experience."

"Here is your chance, you deserve it. Be a good boy and go for what you want," she whispered.

It took a second to get the courage, but then he made his move. He pressed his lips against hers, she let out a surprised moan but gladly kissed him back. His warm hands moved to the small of her back as he kissed her harder.

He pulled away before she could take it further. He moved his hands back to her breasts, softly massaging the skin. He felt his cock grow harder with every sound she made.

There was one thing he desperately wanted to do. He looked into her eyes, silently asking for permission. She gave him a smile and a slight nod.

"Can we go to the couch?" he asked

She grabbed his hand and led them to the couch. She took a seat and waited for him to instruct her. He softly pushed her body down, her back against the cushion as he crawled on top of her.

He groaned as his hard cock brushed against her leg. He slowly kept his hips moving against her, loving the feeling of bliss at the friction in his jeans. As he moved his hips, he leaned in and wrapped his mouth around her nipple. He closed his eyes in pleasure as he began to suck her boob.

He loved how she moaned and how her nails worked through his hair. He sucked harshly as he got more turned on. He popped off her breast with a pop and then moved to the other one. Her nipple hardened from the wetness of his spit hitting the cold air. He moved his fingers to play with her breast as he sucked on the other one. He was excellent at giving them both the same amount of attention.

He swapped back and forth, her breasts being his only focus. He practically forgot his hips were rubbing against her leg until he felt pre-cum leaking out of his tip. His breath grew heavier as he sucked harder. His cock twitched in his boxers as he rubbed himself faster against her.

"Keep going, baby. Rub yourself until you cum in your pants. Make a mess, Jonathan," she instructed. He nodded but didn't disconnect himself from her breasts. He picked up his pace and chased the orgasm that he could feel building up.

"Such a good boy," she praised as she scratched his head. He whined around her nipple at the nickname.

She moaned as she could feel his mouth moving faster as his hips shook against her thigh. His body went tense and stiff for a few seconds, then he fell apart. His mouth popped off of her and he let out desperate loud whines. His hips rutted against her with no rhythm as he came inside his boxers.

"Let's get you cleaned up and finish this shoot, hm?" she asked as she sat up with him. She grabbed his hand and helped him off the couch. She smirked as he stumbled on his legs but trailed behind her.

Jonathan was definitely going to ask to work with her again.

[nemesis-writer]

Five Minutes (Chapter 1)

Masterlist No choice TW: Neglect, mentions of blood, mental illness

10 days later...

"So who is she?", Duke asks.

"She's a criminal now." Tim replies, he gets up just to drink a beer.

"No she isn't" Jason retorts.

"Then what is she?" Duke asks.

"She's a child, or should I say was a child", Jason interjects.

"She's just being temperamental and probably just throwing a tantrum." Damian jibes.

"She killed all yakuza leaders with a katana," Jason retorts.

"She's definitely not Bruce's child, because there's no way that Bruce could do that." Duke jokes.

"She is. I took a paternity test." Bruce replies.

"She's getting smarter and better. She was supposed to be in the fortress where we keep the people who are too mentally insane to go to Arkham." Cassandra adds.

"I checked the security cameras of all the places she's been in and she has the ability to manipulate a person in to doing her malicious acts. Must be why she's able to escape every time by using someone else for her bidding. " Tim reveals.

Asylum, 10/11/2017,

"Hello, my name is chief Lawson, FBI. I'm here to ask you where you hid the bodies."

"Rotting apples with wasps feasting. Brown bananas with flies retreating. A fox in the night is ripping black bin bags open. Cats are eating a chicken casket after Sunday dinner. A white owl is gobbling a slaughtered mouse, happy, sitting on the evening fence. The brown rat is running for the bushes after stealing bread. A giant cow jawbone is found in the dirty ground. The tired young man died on the motorway bridge and was found. Zombied humans are eating out of plastic bins. Death is everywhere! Take a look inside – don’t be ignorant about what you find." She sings but keeps her back faced to the FBI.

"You're not really helping here lady." Lawson said.

"It's in the song, but if you don't listen then I can't help you." Eurus said.

She starts to stand up and go towards the glass.

"Step forward and touch the glass officer." Eurus feints.

"No, you give me answers lady."

"Or what? You'll shoot me? This is bullet-proof glass sweetheart." Eurus replies, "I'll touch it if you want."

The officer steps forward and touches the glass on for her to grab his neck and choke him to death.

End of recording...

"Lawson was supposed to be one of the best FBI detectives." Bruce says.

"He was. She's evolving and the longer we let her evolve, the more people will die." Stephanie adds.

"Why would she do this?" Bruce wonders

10 years ago...

Love can come from many forms and languages. It follows the same rules with hate, negligence, toxicity, and jealousy. It may not be shown all in one go, so it will gradually grow until it could eat you alive whole. Let's list what each has demonstrated.

Unintentional negligence: Bruce proves as a simple embodiment of this action. He found you to be insignificant and mediocre. When really your true colours were just about to shine.

Negligence based on superiority: Dick has quite the experience in that area. He always thought that people would look up to him and he would be the role model of the family. He never meant for his negligence to go as far.

Love relying on sufferings: Jason truly knew how broken you were and wanted to fix it. It took him too long to realise that you may be able to fix and broken mirror, but it would never be as it was.

Hate relying on significance: Tim is the obvious answer since he never truly cared for you. Until now. He hated the fact on how you were so 'naive' and 'helpless', that you don't deserve to live like them.

Hate and jealousy based on blood: Since you were the child of a common whore, Damian thinks of you as a whore and never a Wayne. He has a perfect assassin of a mother and a rich vigilante for a father to add up. You on the other hand, have nothing, and are nothing to him.

Toxic and fake interest: All the girls, Cassandra, Barbara, and Stephanie has a bond with you. They pretend to be interested and all ears when they really plan to hurt you and shut you up. They'd do anything just for you to back off. It was never true with them.

Love of a sibling and of keen interest: Duke has always wanted a sister who was normal. So far he assumes that you're the closest thing to normal that wasn't as fake as Cassandra, talkative as Steph, or as busy as Barbara. He understands your pain and wants to be the sibling you never had.

Present...

Each had their own description of their 'bond' with you. But things have changed, they changed. Why wouldn't you wanna go home for them?

Don't you see how much they treasure you now?

Come home little robin.

A/N: I kinda like this chapter because I'm basing it off from the BBC Sherlock Holmes Series and I hope you'd like it!

Taglist

@lunayaps, @not-aya, @iluvcatzz, @vanessa-boo, @ivyrose9194,@thesehandsarerated-e, @eyeless-kun, @errorunfound1, @gwyneveire, @alishii, @cxcillia

[honeyryewhiskey]

BREAKING NEWS IN THE POPSCENE!! . . .

You're America's shiny new star, dominating the industry with thousands of adoring fans—but with fame comes danger, and some fans have taken their admiration too far.

After a break-in at your California home, your management scrambles to tighten security. A series of failed bodyguard hires leaves you skeptical—until your publicist brings in Dean Winchester.

he's no-nonsense. full of attitude. And now your roommate, your new companion 24/7.

Unlike most people in your orbit, Dean isn’t fazed by your playful, bratty charm or flirtatious antics, nor is he afraid to call you out when needed.

But there’s something undeniably thrilling about testing his limits—and when you get under his skin, the sparks really start to fly.

DISCOGRAPHY!! . . .

001. bad idea, right? 002. obsessed 003. guilty as sin? 004. piece of me 005. clumsy 006. false god 007. oops!. . .i did it again 008. primadonna 009. escapism 010. think later 011. cruel summer 012. so high school

THE B-SIDE!! . . .

i. my goodies ii. diet pepsi iv. nonsense

DULCIE'S ONE SHEET!! . . .

stage name. . . dulcie! [ doll - see ]

❝ eat me! ❞ made of sugar, glitter, and escapism

BEHIND THE SCENES . . .

Dean dips his head, lips brushing your ear—so you can hear him over the chaos of screaming fans and a million camera shutters as you're exiting your hotel.

Someone leaked your location—again—and it didn't long for your name to be trending on X, people flocking to get a glimpse at their favorite icon.

"Keep your head down," he mutters, his brows set in a firm line as he scans the crowd. Each muscle tense with anticipation, keeping his body close to yours. You're wrapped in the thrill of his need to protect.

With a sly little smile, you glance up to catch his gaze, "relax, killjoy, I can handle walking thorugh a crowd just fine."

Your teasing earns a tempered side-eye, his stubbled jaw tighting in a way that makes you have to bite your lip to stop from laughing. "Uh, huh," he huffs, his palm finding the small of your back to keep you just a step ahead of him, "until you trip over those skyscrapers you call heels and make my job harder. Now move."

Any other man spatting demands at you like that would be quick to get the finger and a verbal lashing sharp enough to make the color drain from his face.

But Dean, is not just any other man. All he ever hears from your lips are quips of endless toying and maybe just a little attitude.

"Catch me if I fall, alright, Winchester?" you whisper back, throwing him a wink before turning back to the crowd.

You can practically hear the smirk in his chuckle, "keep that up, babydoll. See how far that mouth of yours gets you."

And just like that your heart skips a beat—Dean has you flustered in a way no one else ever manages. You swallow hard, trying to ignore the heat creeping up your neck. It’s ridiculous, really, how one cocky remark from him can unravel you, but there’s no way you’ll let him see that.

"Careful, Dean," you throw over your shoulder with a cheeky grin, "wouldn’t want anyone thinking you’re actually having fun."

His low chuckle rumbles behind you, rich and warm. "Fun? Babysitting a spoiled pop princess? Dream come true."

You roll your eyes but don’t miss the faint curve of his lips as he steers you toward the waiting car. The paparazzi frenzy intensifies, flashes blinding, questions flying—your name, his name, rumors already sparking.

Dean doesn’t flinch, doesn’t even glance at the chaos. His grip on your back is firm, steady, and somehow reassuring. You hate how much you like it.

Once inside the car, the noise fades as the door slams shut, leaving just the two of you and the hum of the engine.

"You’re awfully good at this whole brooding, protective act," you tease, leaning back in your seat with a smirk. "Think it comes naturally, or did you practice in the mirror?"

He raises a brow, glancing at you from the corner of his eye as he settles into the driver’s seat. "Natural talent," he shoots back, shifting the car into gear. "And if you don’t quit running that mouth of yours, you’re gonna see just how good I am at keeping you in line."

That shouldn’t make your pulse race, but it does. The words hang in the air between you, thick with a tension that neither of you dares to address.

You bite your lip, turning to stare out the window to hide the grin tugging at your mouth. Dean Winchester might be all business, but he’s playing a dangerous game—one you’re all too eager to win.

PRODUCER NOTES. . . babydoll got a face lift! if you read the first part i posted like months ago... no u didn't bc i had to rewrite it lol

[young-waverer]

fic recs: 4/19 - 4/26

hey what's up hello figured i should put my chronic fic reading to good use and share some each week (or, at least the weeks that i remember to do this)

in no particular order, some of my fave reads this week under the cut

🚒 honey you're familiar by cranberrymoons | @cranberrymoons rating: explicit relationships: buck/eddie

Seeing him like this: Buck on top of him, mile-long legs splayed out over his lap. Straddling him with his hands planted on Eddie’s shoulders, sweat shining on his face, sheets bunching up around both of them. At some point in the watching, sitting up, hand pressed low on Buck’s back to keep him held close, mesmerized.

🚒 eat your bones by oneofthesirens rating: explicit relationships: buck/eddie

“What, even if I kill someone?” Eddie shoots back. It feels like he’s daring Buck — testing him, almost. Eddie can’t tell what he wants from this conversation, just that he wants. “Even then,” Buck says, then adds, “Especially if it's your parents.” "Buck, ” Eddie laughs. His whole face feels flushed, impossibly hot. It’s hot in Texas, always, but he feels almost electric with it. “Nah, Eddie, I’m being so serious right now, if you tell me you need to hide a body in El Paso, I’m there.” Buck’s laughing too, his head thrown back so the arch of his neck takes up most of Eddie’s screen. Eddie presses a thumb to the screen, where he could touch the dip at the base of Buck’s throat if they were together. “Don’t be an idiot,” Eddie snorts. “I’m not going to ask you to hide a body, okay?” Buck sighs. “I wish you would. We’d see each other again, at least.”

🚒 symbiosis by mandolare | @rainscenes rating: explicit relationships: buck/eddie

When Buck turns to the side to step into the shower he freezes, suddenly and shockingly wide-awake, because there’s something very, very abnormal in his periphery, so out of place he almost can’t make himself look straight at it in the mirror. But then he does, and for a moment forgets how to work his lungs. Because there’s the blue-black shadow of fresh ink under his skin, ugly cursive script, about three inches wide right on his ass. Eddie, it says, high on the curve of his right cheek. Buck and Eddie get blackout drunk, and then learn something new about themselves. And each other.

🚒 have, hold by trysetmeonfire | @try-set-me-on-fire rating: teen relationships: buck/eddie

“I think you should marry me,” Buck says. Still not really looking at Eddie. Looking at Eddie. Condensation drips on his thumb. He got back from Texas seven hours ago. He's known the man at his table for as many years. He doesn't- he's not- but who else is he ever going to love this much? And if Buck asks for something he needs- what is Eddie going to do besides his best to provide it? So: “Okay,” Eddie says. “Okay.”

🚒 Help Me Believe by semperama | @semperama rating: teen relationships: buck/eddie

“I fucked up,” Buck says. He wishes he could stop himself from talking. If the elevator hadn’t stopped, if they weren’t trapped here, maybe he would have been able to bite his tongue until later, until it didn’t matter anymore. “Eddie, I—” “Hey,” Eddie says, sharp, cutting him off. “No, you didn’t. Buck, you didn't."

🚒 Gone by hopeintheashes rating: teen relationships: gen

“Who?” Jaw set. Death grip on the kitchen counter, screwdriver digging into his palm. Tommy closes his eyes. “Bobby.” “Which hospital?” He almost chokes on the words. “Eddie,” he says, which isn’t the right answer, which makes his vision white out.

🚒 Does He Know? by carpediaz | @sofa-king-lame rating: gen relationships: buck/eddie

Lily wonders if Eddie does anything other than talk to Buck when he’s not with Chris, because everytime she runs into him (which is a lot because they’re currently living less than a mile from each other) he’s got Buck on a video call. They bicker about what colour Eddie should paint his kitchen - “Eddie, you wanna go with something warm to make it inviting,” Buck had insisted, cackling triumphantly when Lily had agreed with him. They reminisce about calls they attended - “okay but you have to admit that Ravi fucked that one up, right? I asked for gauze and he handed me an IV bag,” Buck had sneered, wholly offended by Eddie reminding him that Ravi had been terrified of him after the ‘chainsaw incident’. or The one where one of Eddie's highschool friends witnesses Buck and Eddie on video calls over the span of a few weeks and wonders why the fuck they're not together

🚒 all i see is what i should be by oceanofchaos rating: teen relationships: buck/eddie

For some reason, everyone’s much more chill about Buck hooking up with Tommy than they are about him dating Rafa, which given all the drama around not letting Buck message Tommy when they broke up seems kind of fucked up. Rafa’s a genuinely nice guy, and they’re taking it pretty slow because of Chance, so it’s not like he’s rushing into a serious relationship for once.“I’m not saying he’s not nice,” says Hen exasperatedly. Chim exchanges a look with her before saying, “Honestly him being nice is kind of the problem.”“What is that supposed to mean?” asks Buck, righteously outraged. — Episode tag to 8x12 Disconnected, where Buck ends up dating the single father from the first call, and everyone (up to and including Eddie) is super normal and cool about it.

🚒 good dogs don't run away by withmeornotatall rating: gen relationships: buck/eddie

"I, um, well..." Eddie shrugs, all nervous bashfulness that makes Buck want to put him in his pocket, maybe his ribcage, just to keep him close, safe. "I'd ask you to move in, but..." "Hate to break it to you, Eddie." His lips curl around the name differently now. Or maybe they don't. Maybe he's always said Eddie's name like it was his favourite word, a plea, a prayer. "But I've got another month of rent down on this place, so if anyone was asking anyone to move in, it'd be me." (OR: they're roommates, partners, best friends, what else is there?)

🚒 Those Five Little Words by diazzeddie rating: gen relationships: buck/eddie

“Bye, Eddie.” “Bye, Buck. I love you,” Eddie says before he hits the red button and hangs up. Five seconds later, the words hit him like a shotgun blast to the face. He just told Buck he loves him. He told Buck he loves him just before hanging up the phone. He only ever does that when hanging up the phone with Chris, his sisters, and his abuela. The only non-family member who ever got an “I love you” when hanging up the phone was Shannon. OR Eddie accidentally tells Buck he loves him when hanging up the phone. They both proceed to be very normal about it.

🚒 Stress Relief by greenbergsays rating: explicit relationships: buck/eddie

Set in the aftermath of the sniper shooting. Eddie is feeling frustrated and Buck offers a helping hand. (With added feelings!)

🚒 baby come home by anchrblack | @anchrblack rating: explicit relationships: buck/eddie

“I thought you weren’t ever going to come back,” Buck admits, the terrible truth finally out in the open. Eddie’s eyes widen in shock. “I thought that was it—that our time was up. I don’t know. I never thought you’d come back.” “Buck,” Eddie says, devastated. “Buck, I—” “I didn’t think you’d come back,” Buck says, and his voice cracks. “I didn’t think I’d ever see you or Christopher ever again.” eddie comes back from texas, and buck doesn't know how to deal with that.

🚒 let's learn something new by Buddieaya rating: mature relationships: buck/eddie

“You stuck-stuck, or… like, just emotionally stuck?” “Physically,” the man calls out, clearly mortified. “Very physically.” There’s something about his voice, an edge of familiarity that tickles at his brain and makes Eddie’s brows pull together. He knows that voice. Before Eddie can place it, Bobby steps forward, flipping on the overhead lights. “Alright,” he says calmly, surveying the room. “Let’s get to work.” And that’s when it hits Eddie. The glow of the lights reveals the man in full clarity, tousled curls, expressive face, wide blue eyes full of embarrassment, and Eddie’s stomach drops clean out of his body. “Buck?” he blurts, eyes going comically wide. Because it’s him. Christopher’s favourite YouTuber, the one with the DIY science experiments, survival tips for kids, fifteen minute long videos about how cool octopuses are. And now he is tied to a hotel bed in nothing but tight boxer briefs, his cheeks flushed a deep red, that is slowly creeping down his chest which is rising and falling fast in quiet horror. Oh. My. God. Or; Buck’s a YouTuber and the 118 save him from an embarrassing situation, and him and Eddie hit it off.

🚒 calling out for somebody to hold tonight by trageddie | @eddiewasinthearmy rating: teen relationships: buck/eddie

Bobby lives, Buck takes Chim's advice, and Buck and Eddie trade secrets and promises.

🚒 you don't get to tell me about sad by HungryHungryHippo | @circledwithaheart rating: teen relationships: maddie/chim

"I'm just glad we could both be here for you," Margaret adds, and Phillip makes a sound of agreement. Buck curls one hand into a fist under the table while he tries to make the other, clenched around his fork, stop shaking. Maddie lightly clasps his wrist across the table, reminding him she's there. That she sees him. "Maybe," Chim interjects, as low and tense as Buck's ever heard him around their parents. "Maybe you shouldn't be." — OR Buck, Maddie and Chim remind the awful Buckley parents who Bobby really was to them.

🚒 too much to lose by rizcriz rating: teen relationships: buck/eddie

It’s not a conscious thought. Not him. Anyone but him. He doesn’t mean it. He doesn’t want to lose any of them—but it’s flitting to the front of his mind and he can’t even stop it, is the thing. And maybe, some awful, heartbroken part of him—this little thing inside of him that he’s been so scared to acknowledge—knows why, but it doesn’t stop the wave of guilt. He doesn’t want to lose any of them. And they’re all in that building. And one of them is dead. And all he can think is—not him. Anyone but him.

🚒 'til our fingers decompose by soopsiesdaisies | @sooperlative rating: explicit relationships: buck/eddie

Buck tastes like the beer they drank after they got in, the dumplings they picked up from that good Japanese place just on the corner from the firehouse, like soy sauce and the garlicky sriracha he likes to put on literally everything. It’s the best thing Eddie’s ever tasted. He’s pretty sure he’ll never want to detach his mouth from Buck’s ever again. Buck does do that, however. Pulls away just a hairbreadth, breathes in sharply through his mouth. A grumpy little whine cuts through the silence of the kitchen like thunder. “Oh,” Buck whispers, sixty different shades of smug, and Eddie’s face gets all boiling when he realizes the sound came from him. “Huh.” Or, Buck gives Eddie his world back, and Eddie is in love with him. They go from 0 to a 100 real quick.

🚒 just give me one bad night by loveisawildthing rating: explicit relationships: buck/eddie

“What do you want, then?” He asks lowly, his voice still raspy from crying. He can feel the deep breath that Eddie takes at the question. Eddie leans forward, nosing clumsily at the skin of Buck’s cheek, then his jaw. “I want,” Eddie starts, and then he places his mouth where his nose had been, right where Buck’s jaw meets his neck. It startles a gasp out of Buck, causes his grip on Eddie to unintentionally tighten. “I want to not think about it for a little while." Buck and Eddie have drunken, bad idea grief sex after Bobby's funeral.

🚒 a hand lit the fuse of a chain reaction of countermoves by Blackmustache rating: gen relationships: buck/eddie

“Some guys at the gym were talking about this new dating app and now things are more - settled. I thought I might give it a try. Nothing serious.” “Really?” Buck tries to push down the jealousy he feels bubbling up at the thought of someone else taking up space in Eddie's life. He shouldn't be jealous. Eddie deserves that as much as anyone. “Eddie Diaz on a dating app??" — Or, Buck accidentally-on-purpose catfishes Eddie.

🚒 'Cause I remember it all, all, all by cathcer1984 rating: teen relationships: buck/eddie

Buck thinks about his role in Chris' life.

🚒 i can take the pillowcases off the yellow pillows by atlasblue85 | @atlasblue85 rating: gen relationships: none

It almost sounds like someone is crying. He heads toward the source of the sound – Christopher’s room, except he knows Christopher is outside goofing off with his cousins. “Eddie?” he calls again, gently nudging the door open. He’s greeted by an unfamiliar sight: his son, sitting on the floor of his old bedroom, sobbing.

🚒 Ice Cream Trucks by glorious_spoon | @glorious-spoon rating: mature relationships: buck/eddie

"What's so funny?" Eddie murmurs. He's pressed so close Buck can't see his expression, but he can feel the shape of his smile against his jaw, and that's even better. "Nothing, nothing," Buck says, breathless, and kisses him again, because he gets to do that now apparently. "I just can't believe this is happening. Feels like a dream." "You have a lot of dreams about me?" Eddie asks, in a tone that's definitely trying to be smooth but is just a little too uneven to completely pull it off.

🚒 wait for me there by hyruling | @hyruling rating: explicit relationships: buck/eddie

“How do you feel about me?” Eddie asks at last, voice low. “Eddie,” he says, ragged. “Don’t make me – you know. You have to know I – don’t you?"

🚒 king of the castle by organyx rating: explicit relationships: buck/eddie

Buck scoffs. “You really think you could go longer than I could without—” Eddie shakes his head in amusement. “Making a ‘deposit’?” he teases sarcastically, finishing Buck’s sentence when he awkwardly clams up. “Yes, with one hundred percent certainty.” Buck’s eyebrows raise, his bright grin showing off a row of perfectly white teeth. “Oh, you wanna bet? Since you’re so confident.” — Buck and Eddie challenge each other to see who can go the longest without an orgasm. Eddie’s pretty confident he can win.

🚒 minor major crisis by WillowFlycatcher | @hannimals rating: teen relationships: buck/eddie

As much as he’s tried to shut it down, Buck can’t deny that Tommy had cracked the seal on a certain question. One that Buck hasn’t stopped thinking about ever since. And no, let the record show that it is not whether he’s in love with Eddie, even if everyone seems to be dying for that to be the case. That’s a patently ridiculous suggestion that holds absolutely no water, and has not a single shred of evidence to back it up. It’s not worth thinking about for even a second. No matter what everyone says. No, the question at hand is obvious. Could Eddie, possibly, maybe, conceivably not be straight? Or: Buck looks for one answer and finds another.

🚒 i'll hold in these hands all that remains by star_bunny | @buckkdiaz rating: gen relationships: buck/eddie

‘Eddie,’ Buck whispers; a single word, but still, his voice breaks on the enormity of it, and then he steps in closer and kisses Eddie. It's frantic and desperate, more of a crushing press of the lips than a kiss, but for a moment Eddie gives in to it, gives in to the need to forget about the fucking nightmare they're living in and seek solace in Buck’s arms, gives in to seven years of wanting as he snakes his arms around Buck’s back, pulling their bodies flush together as he deepens the kiss, chasing oblivion until - Until he tastes the mistakable salt of tears. Eddie hasn’t seen Buck cry all day, but he can taste it nonetheless, taste his grief , and it’s like a shock to the system, piercing through the haze that had settled over his mind at the feel of Buck’s lips against his. He breaks the kiss with a sudden gasp. ‘No,’ he whispers, his breathing harsh and ragged, like it’s killing him to say this. Because it is. ‘Not like this.' Eddie and Buck seek comfort in each other after the funeral.

🚒 unbreakable, impenetrable by cavka | @cavka rating: gen relationships: gen

Staring at the screen, watching as Buck slowly slides down the wall of the lab as his grief overtakes him, Tommy wonders if he's ever loved someone so much that their death would break him like this. Tommy's thoughts on himself, the 118, and vulnerability in the aftermath.

🚒 (one more look) and i forget everything by Neuqe rating: gen relationships: buck/eddie

That is exactly the kind of smile that is stuck on Eddie’s face right now, on the other end of the table, at the firehouse, and Buck fears those damn butterflies are permanently dislodged between his ribs, making his stomach flip, not unpleasantly, as he just looks at Eddie and smiles back at him.

🚒 I will never let you fall apart by unfictional | @sadgayeddie rating: teen relationships: buck/eddie

It’s late. Eddie’s phone starts vibrating, and he knows on instinct that something is wrong. It’s been radio silence from Buck all day and all his texts had gone unanswered. He knows it must have been a bad shift since he knew Buck would have answered his texts with at least some random emoji if he was busy, but today? Nothing. If he’d remembered correctly, Buck was supposed to be off shift hours ago. He couldn’t even feel relieved when Buck finally called because he knew something was really wrong.