#the way she talks about him keeping an open mind as if he is the only one who has reasons to think badly of Tom

[lilacgaby]

˗ˏˋ🖍️crayons and connections

pairing: prohero!katsuki x nanny!reader

summary: after a harsh relationship he really didn't want another try at romance for a while. at least, not until he hired you. he thought he loved the way you cared for his kids, but you both knew it was something more.

tags: fem!reader, domestic au, use of pet names, no proofread, fluff, cursing, taking care of kids, a millisecond of angst i swear trust me, comfort

(a/n: i couldn't get this au out of my headdd)

wc: ~3k

katsuki was honestly sick of his wife.

she would nag him constantly, asking for his cards and attention without ever asking about him or how he was doing. everything was an argument now, most of their nights would eventually end up with him on the couch.

the only lights of his life were his newborn son and one year old daughter. he had adopted the 'staying for the kids' mindset, but her skipping out on their shared daughter's first birthday was his breaking point.

who knew 'i want a divorce' would be the happiest words he'd ever uttered such far? watching her cry and swear she'd be better feeding the hole of despair that had opened over their three year relationship, that had only really blossomed because she got pregnant.

he had made her sign a prenup, thankfully, so he got to keep the house. with a payment and some paperwork he was left with full custody of his kids in his house, to sleep in his bed for the first time in ages.

well, only because he hired you.

it was only natural that he needed a nanny, i mean he was gone for most of the day patrols. after taking some in for interviews, he eventually landed on you after some hours of questioning.

he was exhausted, some of these hags were terrifying, both in their practices and appearances. he relaxed a bit at the sight of you. you were really pretty.

"hi mr-- um bakugo was it?"

you and no idea who he was? it kind of hurt but would end up working out in his favor.

"yeah, just katsuki's fine."

"oh, okay! i'm [name], uh-- i have a couple years experience for babysitting and i worked as a nanny for some other families too--"

as you rambled about your past experience and why you were good for the job, katsuki's mind went elsewhere. you looked breathtaking just speaking there, he swore your hair was flowing in the wind and that the sun shone brighter around you.

not to mention you were really sweet, he had saw you making small talk to the hags earlier, which meant you really were a saint.

"so uh-- yeah that's all about me... uh, hello?"

"oh! yes? that was all really impressive [name]. so, would you be available from eight in the morning to about ten at night? those are my current patrol hours, and obviously you'd be compensated for this trial."

"yes, that's perfect for me! when can i start?"

"uh.. tomorrow?"

"okay!" you stuck out your hand, a small smile on your lips. "nice to meet you katsuki."

he shook your hand firmly and you bowed before leaving.

the next day you arrived earlier than anticipated, he was suited up in his heroes outfit, relishing in the moments where his kids were still asleep.

he heard a knock at the door and opened it. it was you, a tiny purse behind you. "hi katsuki! woah wait a minute.. are you like a hero?"

he shrugged his arms. "yeah, you know only like top three, nothing big."

he saw your eyes widen. "oh wow! sorry for not recognizing you, i don't really keep up with all that stuff-- but im sure you're really strong!"

he nodded, "hell yeah i am. anyways, come in."

you were greeted by a large family home. you were sure your apartment was the size of the kitchen alone. huge halls and grand staircases filled the space, lavish chandeliers all shaped as explosions hung from the ceiling. not to mention the crazy amount of trophies displayed.

the rocking chairs and baby blankets scattered about were seriously out of place, making you giggle a bit.

when he looked back at you, you immediately slapped your hand over your face. "something funny?"

"no, no it's just-- your house is so nice!"

"thank you? anyways, i'll take you up to their rooms now."

you followed behind him, even his kids had huge rooms. you were super kind of jealous.

he opened the door and waved you over to see a small, adorable baby boy sleeping in a cot. "this is kei, he's only eight months." he whispered. "he fusses a lot, but he loves music."

he closed the door slowly behind, and walked to the room straight across. a tiny toddler laid in a princess bed, the room drowning in all things pink. "this is kioko, she's a handful. she turned two a bit ago." he whispered, closing the door behind him to give you a basic rundown of the schedule.

"so, they normally wake up around eight. there's a lot of formula for kei in the kitchen, and kioko just likes cereal. kioko can and will play all day, but kei gets real sleepy."

you nodded along making mental notes of everything.

"they eat lunch around three, but a snack before then is fine. dinner is at seven and they go to sleep at eight."

"okay, i think i got it."

he nodded. "i think you do too. there's extra keys in the counter by the door. call my assistants if there are any emergencies, i wrote the number on the fridge."

you nodded again, "kay, i got it. you get going though, it's already eight twenty!"

"fuck. okay, i'll see you later."

"bye katsuki."

the door closed behind him and you were alone. you decided to start prepping a bottle. just as you finished, you heard the wails of a baby ring throughout the halls.

you walked up to the cot, speaking softly. "hi kei, i'm [name]." as you picked him up, he gurgled in confusion. "i'll be taking care of you from now on, let's go eat."

you kept him in your arms. he was looking up at you curiously, making you smile as he touched your face. as you walked to his sister's room, where sure enough she was awake too.

"hi kioko, im [name]. i'll be taking care of you, okay?" you said, reaching out a hand for her to shake it.

she grasped your hand. "okay. go eat?"

"yes, let's go eat. follow me, okay?" she followed after you sleepily, her blanket and stuffed animal in her arms as you led her to the kitchen.

you placed her brother in a high chair first, giving him his formula. "can i pick you up?" you asked her.

"up-up!" she said, raising her arms up in the air. you carried and placed her into one too. "so, what do you wanna eat?"

"cookie!" she pointed to an expensive cereal brand you'd never even seen before. "oh, okay."

you placed a bit in a tiny bowl, adding some milk. they ate relatively peacefully, were they really as crazy as katsuki said?

yes, yes they were. kioko was a ball of energy, walking any and everywhere. she wanted to play every single game known to mankind. it didn't help that hide and seek was hard in such a huge house.

kei clung to you. as you searched for her he never wanted to leave your side, he'd start sniffling when you even left his sight.

lunch and dinner were a blur, you made the food katsuki had told you to on the sticky notes he'd left around. you had a bit too, and man did these kids eat good.

kioko finally crashed, tugging on the back of your pants. "sleepy time." you were washing dishes, so you wiped your hand clean to ruffle her hair. "okay, go wait for me in your room."

you finished up, picked up kei from where he was sat by his activity cube, and walked over to kioko's room.

you read her a book, 'the giving tree.' she fell asleep halfway through, utterly tuckered out from the day. kei fell asleep against your chest, you went and laid him down in his cot.

you looked around the house, seeing the mess. you sighed. "let's do this."

the house was sparkling once you were done, a pot of coffee on the stove as you waited for katsuki to get back. you seriously didn't know how you were going to go back your one-bed apartment now that you've seen how the rich live.

the door sounded, it was katsuki. "hi katsuki! how was uh-- patrol?"

he was covered in soot and dirt from head to toe. you internally sobbed at your hours of mopping going to waste. "oh uh, it was good. caught some guys and shit."

"ah, that's cool!"

he looked around. "did my brats cause you any trouble?" he eyed how clean everything was, from the dishes to the floor.

"they're full of energy, but so cute it makes up for it."

he wore a soft smile. "yeah, they really are."

"you know, they both look exactly like you. it's cute."

he flushed slightly, "yeah?"

"mhm, oh! i had leftovers from earlier? if you wanted some."

"yeah, i'll eat them." she smiled and started to grab her things. "so, does this mean i pass?"

he smiled too. "yes,

yes you did."

days melted into months of your routine with kei and kioko. some days katsuki would come home early, letting you play games all together. you'd cook with him sometimes too, laughing at how precise he was about it.

everything got a bit real the second kei spoke his first word to you.

"mama."

you and kioko got so excited, recording a clip to send it to katsuki immediately.

the entire day you were so happy, treating the kids to a secret extra snack, and letting them beat their favorite baby popcorn.

a knock on the door was heard, you were feeding kei so you walked over to the door with him in hand. you thought it was odd, why would katsuki knock?

except it wasn't him, it was some woman. "uh.. who are you?"

"oh, so he thinks he can replace me so quickly? newsflash, bitch, i'm his ex wife."

"can you not curse in front of the kids?"

"i'll do whatever the fuck i want. you know why? because i'm actually connected to those kids. you're just playing mother, he'll dump you eventually."

she slammed the door behind her. "star her mama?" kioko asked behind you.

"yeah, stranger."

you had gotten a bit weird after that, acting weird about affection and things surrounding it. you didn't know why, but she really did make you question your role in their lives.

you weren't a mother, you were a nanny.

katsuki finally got fed up with your new, odd attitude. he questioned you with a look in his eye.

"why you been acting so weird?" he asked, his mouth full with food.

"huh? i don't know what you mean?"

he pointed his chopsticks at you. "you've been acting all weird 'round 'em. you don't like that they call you mom or something?"

"no! it's just.. don't you think it's weird?"

"no. i'm happy that they like you so much."

"you don't think i'm trying to replace their mom?"

"they never really had one in the first place. she was never around, so if she said some shit to you know she wasn't half the person you are."

"oh.."

"so she did come."

"yeah. she did."

"[name]. you are ten times the person she ever was. you're perfect without trying. actually, you do try. and that's why..

that's why we all love you."

you both turned red, which made you laugh. "thank you katsuki."

you reached out and held his hand.

"seriously, thank you."

he put a restraining order on his ex the next day, also going to get flowers for you as it was his day off.

you'd started to sleep over after that, the affection between the two of you growing gradually.

he gifted you a room in the house, fully furnished with about ten thousand dollars left in one of the drawers so 'you could decorate for yourself.'

that room went mostly unused though, as most nights you'd end up cuddled with katsuki in his bed.

the fridge was filled to the brim with photos by kioko, who'd love to draw all four of you as one big family.

katsuki even asked her for a small one, one that he now keeps in the back of his phone case for good luck.

he asked you out officially with kioko's help, her unwanted help that is.

she snuck out after bedtime where he was speaking to you on the couch, you in his arms as he was mustering up his courage--

"pleaseeee have a play date with daddy, pleasee?" she said, using her puppy eyes.

"we all love you a lot, but he loves you this much!" she spread out her arms to make a point, making you laugh.

"okay! okay, i already said yes kioko. go to sleep, okay?"

"yay!" she ran up to her room and you heard the door close.

"so.. about our playdate?"

he took you out to a fancy dinner of your choice, telling you to order whatever you'd like. his mom was babysitting so you two could relax.

he'd learned a lot about you from his kids, your favorite color, the music you liked, the way you like your eggs, but it was different to hear it from you.

he thought you were so gorgeous and kind, so sweet to him and the lights of his life. who was he kidding? over the last year you'd become a pillar of his life.

he enjoyed going home knowing you were there with his kids, you were there to hear about his stresses and support him.

he was happy to support you, to let you stay in his house. to let him pay for things for you, to let him make you smile.

one 'playdate' turned into multiple, you went out every other week.

he knew he had to do something, a grand gesture to show you just how much he loved you, how he wanted to continue building this perfect family of his forever.

he knew how much you treasured the opinions of his kids, he loved that about you.

so, he got them in on it. kioko and kei each held a gift for you, one of your favorite flowers and the other of your favorite perfumes.

you were at a seriously gorgeous park, streams the only noise you could hear for miles. you saw your two favorite kids sitting on the picnic blanket.

"kioko, kei?"

"mommy!" they ran up to you, kei handing you the bouquet of roses, and kioko handing you a vial of perfume.

"aw, thank you you two. where's your dad?"

"hes waiting for you! come come!"

"come!"

they guide you to a secluded area, with a natural arch of overgrown vines, where katsuki is waiting for you.

"katsuki?"

"[name]."

"what's all of this for?"

"you." he took your hands into his, looking deeply into you.

"you're important to me. you've.. you've become the thing i was missing. the thing i searched for in other people.

and, you've become that to the people i care about the most too.

so,"

he got down on one knee infront of you.

"will you marry me?"

the word yes escaped you before you even realized it. you tackled him into a hug, which prompted kei and kioko to join in.

everything was just so sweet from then on.

kioko was the flower girl at your wedding, kei was the ring holder.

your first kiss shared under the altar was magical, the memory of it forever engrained in your memories, and in your lips.

your honeymoon was bittersweet, as you missed your two headaches. but you and katsuki also enjoyed the private time alone with eachother, embracing and finding comfort in eachother's presence.

when you got home though, your picturesque family was about to have a new addition,

you were pregnant.

whilst everyone was debating whether or not you'd have a boy or girl, to everyone's surprise once you and katsuki cut the slice of cake open..

it had both colors.

you we're having twins.

as you looked over at katsuki, a shocked expression on his face, all you could do was laugh.

laugh because you couldn't have ever imagined a life this perfect for you.

but it was a wax-drawn line of fate that led you to katsuki,

and you'd always be thankful for it.

tag: @kovu-bunnbunn

[trippinsorrows]

looking through your eyes + eighteen

authors note: this one gets pretty heavy and violent at points. please read the cw/tw's carefully in order to make the best informed decision regarding your mental ability to handle such heavy topics.

cw/tw: angst, violence, torture (gore), (light) fluff, ptsd episode, character being triggered, and references to childhood sexual assault

song inspo: ‘looking through your eyes’ by leann rimes

masterlist + story playlist

words: 10k

Solana knows Roman well.

She knew to start off the letter the way she did, asking for him to be open minded, because she knew exactly what his answer would be. 

No.

It’s the same answer he still has even after her logical explanation. It’s a selfish thing. He’s a selfish bastard at heart because despite her being vulnerable about her mental state and making a solid point, he still wants and plans to say no. 

Still plans come and take her home in a week.

And while he has his reasoning, believing that she can continue her healing outside of some mental facility, it’s also for his own good. He just wants her home. He wants to not have the house be so quiet and empty. To not have to be reminded of her absence in everything from the lack of the aroma of her delicious cooking to Dulce yelping and whimpering whenever he walks in the door home from work without Solana beside him.

He just misses her, and he wants her home. 

He understands where she’s coming from and agrees she could benefit from continuing to talk to someone, to definitely stay on medication. 

But, those things can continue without her being away from home.

There’s also the matter of safety. Yes, Roman went above and beyond what was probably necessary to ensure she has a copious amount of protection, but that’s still not as safe as her being with him.

And he’s almost certain that the facility she’s talking about is the same one Stratus mentioned to him. The place that’s an hour away.

That’s too fucking far.

From their home, Roman can make it to the hospital in ten minutes, if need be. 

Solana being an hour away from him just isn’t a fucking option.

He needs her…..she needs to be close to him.

He’ll just have to help her understand that. 

But, all of that is easy. 

What’s not easy is the other major takeaway from her letter.

I love you, Ro.

In all of his thinking, perhaps overthinking, regarding his thoughts and feelings about his wife, never did it really occur to him that she could feel the same. He knew she cared about him. She’s said as such to him before. But, for whatever reason, he never allowed himself to imagine that she could love him.

And that she could love him without expecting anything in return. Because she believes him incapable of loving her because of his own trauma, and that’s not entirely wrong. 

He does love her.

Fuck, he loves the living shit out of her.

But, he can’t act on it.

Even with this unexpected twist. Her loving him, which fucks with his head too. The why of it. 

There’s not a lot to love, if he’s being honest.

He protects her. Keeps her safe. Gives her that safe space. Beyond that, there’s not really anything else. 

Her standards must be so low. 

Regardless, Roman can’t allow this new piece of information to change or impact his decision.

He can’t openly reciprocate her feelings.

Even….even if he sure as hell feels the same. It’s too risky. Too dangerous. 

He just can’t.

Roman may love her, but he can never tell her he loves her.

It just has to be this way.

________

Ryan Alexander

Tyler Hawkins

Two men whose lives have been intertwined in various ways in the almost 60 years they’ve walked this earth. It started with a meeting in college, both men playing for the same baseball team, having a few of the same classes together, even pledging to the same fraternity. 

They would end up in the same graduating class and go on to open up their own private security company that offered protective services for upscale clientele. Celebrities, athletes, even politicians.

But…..for the right amount of money, they could do more than just protect lives.

They could take them too. 

The company easily and quickly made its name  known through the right or maybe wrong places. Information falling in the lap of parties who were less interested in safety and more interested in murder.

It’s how Xavier Miller got in touch with them. How Solana’s father hired them to take out his wife and daughter after learning of her plan to run away and steal his children away from him, more his son than anything. He really didn’t give a shit about Solana.

Never did. 

It was why when the hit failed to take out both Nina and Solana, Xavier was able to negotiate so that instead of paying the remaining debt due after the deposit. He got them to agree to slash it in half, leaving him owing 250k. The problem was as it always has been though. Xavier lacks vision, lacks long-term vision. He didn’t think about how finances could change for the negative between the time he made the deal and when payment would be due.

Because when that day arrived, he lacked the sufficient funds. But while Xavier may lack good financial and investment knowledge, he makes up for it in craftiness. 

He formed a new deal. One that truly gave all three men a win-win. Xavier’s debt would be cleared, and Ryan and Alexander would be able to enjoy indulging in one of their favorite sexual pastimes. A privilege they can usually only pursue when traveling overseas where child sex slavery runs a lot more rampant and unregulated. 

By luck though, they got their fill domestically in the form of an innocent, 12 year-old little girl. 

A virgin. 

Xavier’s daughter.

Solana Miller

Now known as Solana Reigns, the wife of the infamous Roman Reigns. The same man who Ryan and Tyler have no idea has been behind the absolute hell they’ve been through in the past almost two weeks. Kidnapped in the middle of the night, subjected to an unauthorized but ultimately approved (by Roman) beating by Jimmy and Jey before they were reunited with Xavier’s ain’t shit ass who had also received a long overdue beating from both Roman and the twins.

That beating, however, was nothing compared to the beginning stages of their demise, a version and level of hell only few experience, but something these fuckers have front seats for. 

Roman is methodical with his torture, and this might be the most determined he’s ever been to maximize pain. 

He’s going to ensure they only take their last breath when he feels it’s time, when he’s exhausted any and all ways to extend their life in order to extend their suffering.

And while many would think it started with the beatings, that’s far too simple, too easy. And Roman is neither of those things. He’s calculated and borderline sadistic when the occasion calls for it, and there’s not been a more deserving occasion for him to act on his dark, evil impulses than this. 

So, it was only fitting that all three men, the rapists and the son of a bitch who organized it all, know exactly what it’s like to experience what they put Solana through. 

And that’s exactly what Roman organized. Having all three men dumped and left defenseless in a maximum security prison. Whatever happened, fucking happened. 

And judging by the battered, stunned, borderline traumatized expressions on their cut, brusied faces, exactly what Roman wanted them to experience is precisely what they fucking got. 

For almost two weeks straight.

Jimmy and Jey toss the three men down on the ground before Roman before moving to stand behind him on either side. 

���Ya’ll like fucking little girls, don’t you?” Jimmy sneers, Roman not even needing to look at his cousin to know he’s livid. “So what’s the big fuckin’ deal?”

“Don’t like it when your assess the ones on the receiving end, huh?” Jey taunts. Fitting. 

But, now…..now it’s time for the real pain to begin. Roman lifts his hand to signify his desire from silence. The twins go quiet almost immediately. 

The Tribal Chief turns up his nose as Ryan spits up blood onto the concrete floor. Granted, it won’t make much of a difference. When Roman is done with them, the room will be bathed red. 

He steps forward. 

“August 7th, 2005 and September 8th, 2007.” Roman shrugs and asks the men, “what’s significant about these dates?” When he doesn’t receive an answer, he takes his gun and aims it for Tyler, emptying the bullet into his knee. The man howls in pain and begins to cry. Roman scowls. Pathetic bitch. “I aksed a fucking question.” 

He gaps,, forcing out through closed eyes. “I–I don’t know.” 

Roman crouches down in front of them, ignoring the stench of piss and perspiration emanating off their pathetic bodies. “August 7th, 2005. A mother and daughter were attacked. Stabbed. Mother died trying to protect her daughter. Daughter survived. She was ten-years-old.” Roman looks away at the adjacent wall, jaw clenching a bit as he recalls the next part. “”September 8th, 2007. Two men break into the house and spend hours gang raping a child in her own fucking bedroom before beating her half to death and leaving her for dead.” Dead fucking silence. “She was 12-years-old.” He turns his empty, stoic gaze back onto them. “Sound fucking familiar now?” 

“You carried out the rape,” he gestures to the set of crying rapists and then a numb looking Xavier. “And you arranged it.” Roman shrugs, rolling his big shoulders. “Seemed only fucking fair you three got a taste of what you put her through.” He then chuckles. “Now, I am a fair man. A fair Tribal Chief.” In a matter of seconds though, his disposition completely shifts, changes into something cold, heartless. “But, you don’t get that. You don’t get that fairness. You don’t fucking deserve it. You tortured her. You made her life a living fucking hell.” 

“But you know where you really fucked up?” He reaches his arm out, pointing toward the sledgehammer, one of the twins placing it in his hand. Roman stands up and kicks Tyler backwards, hesitating not a second as he brings it down to his knees, one by one, effectively and immediately shattering both. “You did it to my wife.” Roman taunts over the sound of the man crying. He then moves to Ryan, aware of the knee he already shot, sticking with one to avoid too much blood. Can’t have the bitch bleeding out just yet. “That twelve year-old girl was my wife.” When he gets to Xaveir, he exerts a special amount of energy to strengthen the impact of his blow as he demolishes the older man’s knees. “That ten year old-girl was my wife!” 

Roman tosses the sledgehammer to the side as someone has the audacity to utter out a pained, “p–please.” 

That infuriates Roman more than what should be humanly possible. “Please?” He sees the word came from Tyler. Snarling, Roman jumps over the man, raining a blow so heavy that it breaks his nose, the sickening crack sounding through the air. “Is that what she said when you fucking held her down and raped her!” 

The thought alone results in Roman continuing to punch the man until his fist is painted red and Tyler is clearly on the verge of losing consciousness. 

Standing back up, he huffs, speaking to the rapists, “17 years. She’s suffered for seventeen years because of you.” He points to a barely there Xavier. “And 29 years because of you.” Roman’s  upper lip curls a bit as he swears, “if I could torture you all for that long, I fucking would, but I can’t, so days will have to suffice.”

He’s filled with another level of rage when the cries and pleads for mercy intensify. “Shut up!” He then forcefully demands of the twins, “bring him in!”

Jey, he thinks, disappears for a few minutes only to return with an also bruised, battered Wes. Roman scoffs with disgust as Xavier looks horrified at the presence and sight of his son.

He coughs out, ribs probably broken or at least fractured. And if they’re not, Roman will make sure they are before the end of the night. “Pl—please don’t do—”

Roman has heard enough. This piece of shit has the fucking audacity to beg and plead for the life of his son but couldn’t even protect his own fucking daughter?

Fuck that.

Fury fills and controls the Head of the Table as he yanks up a barely conscious Wes and throws him against the brick wall, the impact loud enough for the sound of his shoulder popping to fill the room. Roman then grabs the sledgehammer again and rains it down on not only his knees but his hands as well, effectively smashing them, resulting in grotesque hairline fracture, bones protruding from his skin.. 

Xavier cries out and begs Roman to stop, which only fuels his tirade even more. Drives him to continue his brutal assault. Roman slams his fist onto Wes’s face, breaking his jaw before Roman squeezes the fucking life out of Wes’s neck and slams him again against that same brick wall. 

And without second thought, as Wes fights to remain conscious, face almost unrecognizable at this point, Roman reaches for his eye, using his middle and index finger to gouge out his eyeballs one by one, ignoring the horrified screams of both father and son. 

Xavier is full on sobbing but practically screams when Wes body drops to the ground like a ragdoll, and Roman tosses the bloody eyeballs toward Xavier. 

“Waterboard him!” Roman directs to the twins who don’t hesitate to drag a crying Wes out of the room by his limp arm, most likely broken in the midst of Roman’s vicious beating. Breathing uneven, Roman flips his hair back that had come out of his bun and turns his attention back on the three older men. 

“I’m going to make you all suffer the same fucking way you made her suffer,” he vows, every intention on maximixing pain in a way he’s never done before. “You’ll be wishing for something as fucking nice as hell when I’m done with you.”

________

Roman has just finished skinning a patch out of Ryan’s abdomen, the chunk of skin joining that of Tyler and Xavier’s slab of skin and other dismembered body parts. 

Wes is up next on the list.

The fucker strapped to the chair has gone unconscious, but his pulse is still relatively strong, so Roman continues. He’s done this too many times to be deterred by someone tapping out.

Tossing the bloodied knife and saw to the side of the room with the rest of the blood stained tools of torture, he grabs the drill and starts to navigate which drill bit to use when the door opens.

Right away, he’s tempted to use the object in hand on whoever was stupid enough to interrupt him.

Roman turns to see none other than his aggravating ass cousin holding a phone. Of course. Attention back to the task at hand, he bites out, “I told you not to fucking bother me. Whoever it is, I’m busy.”

Jey is about as moved by Roman’s tone as he is by the bloody, gory scene before him. Indifferent but still eager to leave, he instead provides the additional information that he knows will absolutely snatch Roman’s attention.

“It’s Bautista.” Sure enough, Jey can see his cousin’s big shoulders go still. “He—”

Roman stands up, tossing the drill to the side and quickly removing the gloves that are caked in blood, skin, and other anatomical matter. He stalks toward Jey, issuing his harsh demand,“give me the phone.”

Jey does as such, sucking his teeth when some of the blood flicks on him. “Man, that’s nasty as hell.”

Roman doesn’t comment, just walks out the room for privacy and demands to the man on the other end, “what happened?”

Bautista doesn’t hesitate and is quick with an easy response. “She wants to talk to you, sir.”

There’s only a slight decrease in concern levels that Roman experiences in hearing that Solana wants to speak to him versus Bautista having to inform him that something has happened. She’s conscious. That’s good. “Put her on.”

Bautista doesn’t say anything, but Roman hears what sounds like slight movement and hushed voices. It’s followed up with a quiet sniffle and even quieter, “hey….” Another sniffle as her volume increases ever so slightly. “I’m sorry, it’s—it’s so late.”

Roman has no idea what time it is nor does he care what time it is. He just wants to know why she’s crying and who he has to kill. “Baby, what’s wrong?”

She takes a shaky breath and follows it up with an even shakier answer, weighed down with the heavy emotions she’s clearly struggling with at this moment. “We—we—we talked about my…my rape in therapy today, and I’ve never—I’ve never actually spoken about it to anyone, and I thought—I thought I was fine, but now…..”

His chest suddenly tightens. “Are you thinking about—”

“No.” Her answer is the firmest he’s heard in the conversation so far. Serious and solid. “Not that. I just—I can’t sleep because now I’m thinking about….about it, and I just….I wanted to hear your voice, and I’m sorry—you were probably asleep.”

No. No, he wasn’t. Far from it. And even if he was, it wouldn’t matter.

She comes first. 

No matter what.

“I’m gonna come see you.”

“No.” The sniffling resumes as does her tendency to try to make herself as less of a ‘problem’ as she can, no matter how many times Roman tries to explain she never has and never will be anything of the sort. “I’ll–I’ll be okay.”

Maybe. Maybe not. Regardless, he’s not taking the risk because Roman cannot physically handle hearing her crying, hearing her so upset and not be able to do anything about it.

“I’m coming, Solana. Give me a half hour, okay?” He’d head there straight away right now, but the idea of coming to her after spending house torturing men, blood, bone, and other unidentifiable matter splattered all over him, is the last thing she needs. “I’ll be there.”

There’s another delay, and he’d bet any money it’s her trying to hold back the tears as best she can. “Oh–kay.”

He swallows, asking, “can you put Bautista back on the phone?”

Again, more shifting on the other end. “Hello?”

“Don’t take your fucking eyes off her.” Roman’s tone is hardened and leveled. “I’ll be there shortly.” He doesn’t wait for a response, doesn’t need to provide instructions on how to make sure his wife is kept safe.

Bautista already knows what the fucking deal is.

Roman can’t get cleaned and showered fast enough, ridding his body of all of the telltale signs that he’d spent the majority of the day torturing his wife’s family and rapists. She doesn’t need to know that. 

He’s impatient for the drive that feels much longer than the twenty minutes it actually is. A large part of that being that he just wants to get to Solana. 

She’d called him. She’d reached out to him.

The same thing he wishes she had done that night. Something he still feels strangely about but will learn to sort through later. Not now. 

Now his focus is on just making sure she’s alright.

That she’s safe.

Roman walks in with purpose, uninterested in Bautista’s short briefing, which is essentially more or less him just confirming that Solana hasn’t been left alone, another guard watching her as Bautista escorted Roman into the premises that’s otherwise locked down given it’s almost midnight.

Not that he gives a fuck.

Roman finds Solana sitting on her bed, legs pulled up to her chest. But, the minute her teary eyes land on him, she’s moving up from said bed, rushing over to him. Naturally, Roman catches her, holding her as she silently cries into his chest.

He’s gonna rip that fucking therapist a new one. 

“I’m sorry—” Roman hates hearing her apologize. He hates seeing her upset, but the fact that she’s apologizing for feeling the way she does is a different layer of irritation. It reminds him of how she used to be. Makes him realize just how much and deep this regression has been. “I just—I don’t want to be alone tonight.” 

He’s just about to once again remind her that she has nothing to be sorry about when her last statement snatches his attention. Alarms him a bit. “Solana….I need you to be honest with me—”

And she must know where he’s headed, because she pulls back, holding his gaze as she shakes her head. “I don’t want to hurt myself. I promise. I just….I just don’t want to be by myself.” 

It makes sense, and he believes her. Somewhat. There’s still that part of him that’s skeptical. He’s not sure if that part will ever go away either.

Solana swallows and licks her lips, asking in that tentative voice, “will—will you stay with me tonight?”

It’s an easy answer. Something he already decided the minute he heard her crying on the other end of the phone.

“Yes.” She looks so massively relieved by that one word. “But not here.” And before the confusion fully sets in, he clarifies, “I’m taking you home.”

As expected, she looks surprised and torn, “Roman, I—”

“You get released in three days, Sol. I’ll bring you back tomorrow afternoon, but tonight, you need to be home. You don’t need to be here.” Roman isn’t a fucking professional, but he knows his wife. Knows that what she’s looking for is the feeling of security. There’s no more secure place than with him in their home. And even with Dulce.

Solana seems to be on the same page, nodding and offering no further protest. “Oh–okay.”

As she’s barely allowed any personal items, it takes less than twenty minutes for her to be ready to go, Roman directing Bautista to handle any issues that arise regarding her departure.

Roman is sure Stratus or even Gail will have issues with his decision. He’s also 100% sure that he doesn’t give a flying fuck. 

Solana needs to get away. 

She needs to be home.

She needs to be with him. 

And, he’s proven correct, because the minute she walks into the house, she’s looking over at Roman, asking, “where is she?”

“Our room.”

Solana can’t seem to move up the stairs fast enough, Roman behind her, partially eager to see this long awaited reunion. He’s not sure who will be happier: Solana or her puppy. 

It’s about a tie though, because the minute Solana moves over to the side of the bed where Dulce is sleeping and gets on her knees, carefully petting the puppy, Dulce’s head snaps up.

And instantly, she jumps at Solana. 

They’re both crying, Solana holding onto Dulce who is a mixture of whimpers, licks, and that tail of hers excitedly wagging. 

Solana says something in her to Spanish, something Roman can’t make out, but he doesn’t need to make it out. It’s obviously something moving. 

Something healing almost. 

Solana looks up at him, laughing and crying as Dulce tries to lick her face. Her voice cracks a bit as she says to him, “thank you.” 

Roman nods, that same, warm, unfamiliar emotion building up. Fucking feelings.

Nodding, he says nothing, watching as she continues to hold onto and cuddle with Dulce. 

Yeah…..

Definitely the right decision.

________

Roman lifts his eyes from the phone that he just put on Do Not Disturb to set his gaze on Solana. Out of the shower, she’s wearing only one of his shirts. Nothing else. He can tell by the way the cotton almost outlines her nipples. 

Placing the phone to the side, he’s slightly taken back when she moves onto his lap. “I—” Her eyes drop downward, her hands grasping at his shirt. “I need a distraction.” He’s confused, but it’s only temporary as she trails off with the specific distraction she’s looking for. “Can we….”

He doesn’t need to hear more. Roman understands just what she’s asking for.

And his answer is simple.

“Solana, I don’t think…..” He has to phrase it correctly, word it so that it doesn’t sound like he is rejecting her. He is, but it can’t come across as just that. “You’re not—”

“I feel dirty,” she interrupts, eyes closing, mouth moving around as she does her best to balance emotion with verbalization. “I—I don’t want to feel that. I want—I want to feel you. I only ever want to feel you.” Solana opens her eyes, pleading almost. “Please.”

Something is telling him to tell her no, to find a way to decline without hurting her feelings or making her feel rejected, because that’s the last thing he wants. 

But, it feels almost impossible. She’s upset. He doesn’t want her to feel the way she’s feeling, and if she believes being intimate tonight will help her, then he’ll give her that. 

Roman nods and gently taps her hip, partially surprised when she moves off his lap, taking his hand as she lays back on the bed, pulling him on top of her. 

Roman’s lips hover over hers as she breathes, “I just want to feel you.”

It’s taking a painful amount of self-control on Roman’s part to refrain from taking here right here and now. Because while he’s mentally conflicted, there’s no denying the hardness that’s growing in his pants by the minute as she lifts her thigh and grazes it against his hip. There’s no properly explaining how much he’s missed this.

He kisses her, tentatively almost, letting her take the lead as she moves her arms around his neck, tugging him closer. Roman’s hand goes to palm her breast through her shirt which makes her breathe against his mouth.

He shuts his eyes for a minute. He’d almost forgotten the sweet sounds she makes, fodder for his growing desire. He moves his mouth to her neck, sucking on the spot he’s learned makes her writhe under him, her nails scraping down his taut back. 

And then, the shift.

Roman feels it only seconds before she acts on it, the way she starts to tense underneath him, the growing unsteady pattern of her breathing, the fear. But before he can pull away, she’s pushing him away, letting out a ‘no’ that comes from a different place, a different time. It comes from her trauma.

Her push is strong, but it’s not enough to get him completely off of her. Roman does that much all on his own, watching as she sits up in the bed and covers her face.

“I’m sorry,” she breathes into her hands. “I—I’m sorry.” Her shoulders tremble as the apologies melt into the bleeding of emotions she tried to mask away with intimacy. “I’m sorry—” Solana falling into a full out crying session, the third or fourth time she’s done as much tonight, is more than enough for Roman to motion her over to him.

“Come here.” 

He’s at least grateful she lets him pull her onto his chest, letting her cry on him as he lays them back in the bed, his protective arms around her. For a second, he berates himself for taking her from the hospital. If they were still there, he’d wake up whoever the fuck he needed to wake up to give her that medicine she was prescribed for moments like this.

Moments where she just needs more.

“I’m sorry,” she apologizes, crying subdued a bit. But Roman is unsure what he dislikes more: the fact that she’s so upset or the fact that she thinks she needs to apologize for being so upset.

“You have nothing to apologize for,” is all he says. His hand is on the small of her back, moving in comforting circles. “Nothing at all, okay?”

She doesn’t say anything, just continues to cry into him, Roman wishing he could do more to settle her. It kills him to see her so upset. 

A few minutes later, her tears having almost entirely subsided, she murmurs, “I’m sorry we couldn’t….”

He takes a deep breath, willing his voice to remain calm. “Solana, I told you before I don’t need that from you—”

“But, I wanted to. I just…..”

“It’s okay.” He cuts her off, kissing the top of her head. “I never expected that from you tonight anyway.”

He already knew she wasn’t in the mental space for it, but he didn’t want her to feel rejected either, so he went along with it. There’s a bit of regret, maybe more than a bit, but Roman also knows he was stuck between a rock and a hard place.

Still is. 

“Rest.” He instructs, grateful when she simply nods against him, tucking herself closer into his body. And he watches her closely and intently, an infinite amount of pleasure rising within him when he feels the steady rise and fall of her body, confirmation that she’s finally drifted off into sleep.

He doesn’t mean to fall asleep with her. He would actually prefer to stay up and watch her, but the weight of the day, mentally and physically, takes its unavoidable toll. And not too long after she succumbs to sleep, he does the same.

________

“Daddy.”

Roman’s eyes shoot open at the both familiar and unfamiliar voice. Looking down, he sees Solana sleeping peacefully on top of him, her hand atop his chest. But to his right, he finds sad eyes, tear stained cheeks, and a deep frown. 

Naturally, he frowns a bit as well. He hates seeing any of this family upset. “Bad dream?” 

She nods, holding onto the teddy bear in her arms. He’d gotten it for her a couple years back while he was away on business, and it’s become her comfort animal ever since. 

Roman is careful in prying Solana’s arm off him, grateful when the extent of her stirring is simply her turning over on the other side. Over the years, she’s gotten better with not being as easily disturbed or woken up.

And he’s especially thankful for that in this moment.

Moving the blankets down and off, he swings his legs over the side of the bed and rolls his shoulders. She shifts the bear in her arm to one side and reaches up for him to pick her up. “Come here.” Roman does as such, pulling her up as he stands from the bed. 

She lays her head on his shoulder while  he quietly walks them out the room, cracking the door behind him. Roman takes her downstairs into the living room and hits the lamp on the side table before grabbing the remote off the coffee table. 

Sitting down, she adjusts herself in his lap, holding onto her stuffy while he loads up the animated show with the creepy blue looking thing that kids apparently love, his included. 

Especially the twin on his lap. It’s like her comfort show.

“You wanna pick the episode?” It’s a preference. 

She nods and accepts the remote from him, selecting the same episode she’s watched the last 10+ times this has occurred. She almost always starts with this same episode, like she has to or else she can’t watch it.

A repeat and increasing thing, he’s noticing. 

As the opening credits roll around, Roman gently rubs her back, asking, “you wanna talk about it?”

She keeps her focus on the TV while shaking her head no. An expected answer given the fact that she never really likes to talk in general, but as Roman thinks about the increase in how often this is happening, he’s starting to wonder if it’s past the point where she gets a choice in the matter.

For the past few months, every so often, or more often now, he’ll be awoken in the middle of the night by his youngest daughter. Upset and clearly crying, she’ll ask him to sit with her, to stay with her until she falls asleep again. Though at some point, the addition of letting her watch an episode or two of her show seemed to aid in not only calming her down but eventually lulling her back to sleep.

And every time Roman tries to get out of her just what these bad dreams are, she remains quiet, forcing him to wreck his brain over what could be bothering her so much.

The unknown of it all is starting to mess with him.

He can’t help her if he doesn’t know what’s going on.

“Sissy?”

Both Roman and the daughter on his lap look over to see her twin rubbing her sleeping eyes as she walks over and climbs onto the sofa, the two adjusting so they’re both seated on top of him. “Did you have the bad dreams again?”

At that, Roman’s brow furrows. Did she talk about them with her sister?

He asks as such. 

“Do you know what they’re about?” Roman and Solana suspected that she’d confided in her sister, her true confidant, but they also didn’t want to risk putting a rift between the sisters by making one feel like she has to ‘snitch’ on the other.

However, an unspoken communication of some sort is exchanged between the twins. The quieter of the two reluctantly nodding as the outspoken one shares, “sissy has bad thoughts…..”

Roman takes the remote and turns down the volume versus pausing as he notices she’s still trying to watch. To some extent. And it’s clearly helping to calm her, so he won’t deprive her of that. But, he does have to ask, “what kind of bad thoughts?”

That could be and mean so many things. And if the situation was different, he wouldn’t be too concerned. The level and standard for ‘bad’ that he has compared to his kids is vastly different. But given how upset his daughter has been getting, there’s gotta be something more severe to the ‘bad’ this time. 

His twin, in more than just looks and demeanor, seems to hesitate for a second, Roman ready to encourage her that it’s okay to be honest with him. He needs that honesty at this point. “She—she has scary thoughts about something happening to you and mama. And—and bad dreams that something’s gonna happen to you when you go on your trips.”

Roman does his best to hide his surprise. And his concern. He wasn’t expecting that. Turning to the youngest of the two, he asks, “is that true?”

She looks down, tightening her hold on her bear as she nods slowly.

Roman closes his eyes and takes a second to gather himself. Comfort now. Process later. It’s become a bit of a routine for him.

Needing both of their attention, he takes the remote again to hit pause. 

“Girls….” Roman has to remind himself to keep it simple and at a level they can understand. “I’m never going to let anything happen to your mom. Or to you. Or to your brother. And nothing is especially going to happen to me.” Seeing the emotion especially present in his youngest, he kisses her temple. “I’m always going to come back home to you guys, okay?”

And that’s a promise.

Come hell or high water, nothing could separate him from his family. 

Especially his kids. 

“Told you, sissy.” She then smiles a little, adding on with a toothy grin. “Daddy’s like a superhero.”

Roman chuckles. Far from it. But whatever helps them. 

Taking over the duty of being the parent, showing that while she has many of her father’s interests and some of his temperament, she also has her mother’s caring nature, she asks, reaching for her little sister’s hand. “Wanna try to go back to sleep? You can sleep in my bed.”

The offer to not have to sleep alone as well as having some one on one time with him seems to be enough to be enough to coax her back  to bed. He watches as the girls climb off his lap, the oldest taking the youngest hand, as she also handles the parting words, “goodnight, daddy.”

He offers a small smile. Their bond is something special. “Night, girls.” Hands still locked, they walk away, heading back up the stairs. “Love you.” He calls out after them. 

An almost synchronized response is what he’s met with. “Love you too, daddy.” 

It brings that warmth back to him, Roman blowing out a deep breath when it’s just him and the paused screen on the TV. He takes a couple minutes to sit on the weight of the conversation. 

He doesn’t like knowing that his daughter is struggling with thoughts. Hates that they haunt her in the form of dreams. He knows better than anyone how difficult that can be. How exhausting.

So does Solana.

Thoughts of his wife and wanting to get back to her before she notices his absence and wakes up, Roman shuts off the TV and starts heading upstairs.

Walking back into their bedroom, he’s only partially surprised to find Solana awake, sitting up against the headboard, their son on her chest for one of his nightly feedings. 

She gives him a sad, knowing smile. “Another bad dream?” 

Roman nods and goes to sit back in the bed next to her. “Found out what they’re about.”

Solana’s eyes widen a bit. “She told you?”

He shakes his head. “The other one did.” He frowns a bit, sharing, “she’s having thoughts and dreams of something happening to us. Me especially.” 

Solana’s frown is deep and concerned. Valid. “What? Where—Where did that come from?”

“Don’t know.” Roman answers. He’d have loved to been able to ask more questions, but it’s also the middle of the night and just getting some kind of answer is a huge win in and of itself. “But, I wanna schedule an appointment with her pediatrician. If something else is going on with her, we need to know.”

Roman has an idea of what it could be, now starting to put different pieces together. Her particular way of doing things, rituals of sorts, thoughts she can’t control. But, he wants to be sure.

“Of course,” Solana agrees. “I’ll call in the morning.”

Good. 

Roman chuckles after looking over at the clock on the nightstand. 3:59am. He glances at Solana, “and you really wanna do this all over again?”

He’s still partially stuck on the fact that even with three kids, Solana is still wanting more. 

The thought alone brings out a heavy sigh just from tonight’s events.

All three of their kids up and in need of something in the middle of the night like he and his wife don’t have work in the morning.

He can’t even really picture an additional child—or two–added into the mix. 

Solana, however, only smiles, rocking gently to help soothe their son. “Only with you, papi.” A beat. “Only with you.”

________

“No!”

Roman is awakened by movement and volume. Both of which effectively deter and distract him from yet another strange dream, a fantasy of some sort.

Or…..something more. 

Regardless, he has neither the time nor energy—nor desire—to think about that. Not with the woman violently stirring beside him. A nightmare. It’s obvious Solana is in the middle of a nightmare.

“No….” Twisting against the mattress, Roman sees the light sheen of sweat on her forehead. He frowns. How long has she been in the middle of this nightmare? “Get off me….”

At that, he stills a bit. With Solana’s extensive trauma, it’s pretty impossible to know just what specific traumatizing incident haunts her dreams and interrupts her sleep. But this….this one is pretty obvious. 

And it guts him.

He moves his hands to her shoulders. “Baby, wake up.”

She starts crying, and Roman isn’t quite sure how much worse and useless he can feel. “No. Please—please. You’re hurting me.”

There’s a heaviness in his chest as Roman deepens his voice and shakes her a little harder. “Solana, wake up.”

It seems the more he says it, the more she writhes and cries, trapped in the throes of trauma. Roman doesn’t want to be physical with her, doesn’t want to exacerbate an already difficult situation, but he can’t just sit here and watch her suffer. 

He moves his hands to her arms, restricting her just enough, raising his volume yet again. “Solana, it’s just a nightmare. Wake up.” He’s not entirely certain if it’s his escalation or just the natural progression, but she shoots up, eyes opening for the briefest second before slamming shut. 

And then, the climax.

Roman is taken back when she starts pushing and shoving him, but that surprise is easily weighed down with sympathy when she starts talking again. 

“Get off of me!” She cries, never once letting up on him.

He takes it all, her fists really of no consequence to him as he continues to try to break her from this torment. “Solana, please—”

“No!” She’s the one with the increased volume, Roman biting back a hiss as a sharp almost burning pain throbs in his shoulder, the area where he was shot. But, it’s irrelevant. His focus is on Solana and nothing else. 

“Baby, it’s me.” He’s no longer restraining her, letting her let it out on him as much as she needs to. Whatever she needs in this moment, he’ll give it to her. He’s not sure what else to do besides that, to be honest.

But, it’s when Roman manages to cup her face, again, repeating the hopefully calming, settling words, “it’s me” that seems to help break through to her. Blinking, wet eyes open, filled with fear. He studies her, watching her focus on him, as the fear starts to diminish. Replaced with recognition. “R–Roman?”

He nods, his own concern settling seeing her anxiety lessen. “Yes. It’s just me.”

She releases a shaky, emotional breath, clearly coming to grips with what just occurred. But, her gaze settling on his shoulder seems to bring back that previous level of horror. “Oh my god, I—I hurt you.” She slaps her hand over her mouth, shaking her head. “I’m—I’m sorry. I didn’t mean—”

He looks down, realizing she must have ripped his stitches when she was hitting him, blood trickling down his skin. Roman is entirely unbothered. “Solana, I’m fine.”

She doesn’t seem to be hearing him, too focused on the unintentional thing she caused. “I hurt you…..” 

He lowers her hands from her face, kissing her inner palms. “Baby, it’s fine.” 

“I–I’m sorry. I–She closes her eyes, taking deep breaths, asking him in an unexpected calmer voice. “I—I need to stitch it back up for you.”

Roman shakes his head. “I can do th—”

But, she cuts him off, sounding a little bit more stable and a lot more desperate. “Roman, please?” 

Not wanting to risk upsetting her again, he shakes his head, allowing her to take the lead as she grabs his hand and guides him into their bathroom. Roman sits on the toilet and watches her silently move around, gathering the medical kit and other needed supplies. 

His eyes don’t leave her as she works carefully and tediously to stitch him back up, Roman partially thankful her focus is on something else versus the horrific memories that seemed to have been tormenting her the past couple hours. 

He wants to say something, do something to help her feel better, to especially rip away the guilt evident in her eyes at ‘hurting’ him.

Solana may be the only person on this earth capable of doing as such, but it could never be physically. 

Ever.

“I’m not crazy. I—I promise.” Her voice is shaky, unsteady by understandable emotion as she finishes up, starting to put the supplies back. “I just—I don’t know—”

Roman takes her hands in his. “Sol, I know you’re not crazy.” Feeling an unfamiliar sense of openness and vulnerability, he asks her, “do you know why I was able to help you with your panic attack that night?” Her eyes are lit with confusion as she shakes her head no. Roman’s jaw clenches. He’s never once told a soul what he’s about to share with her. “It’s because I used to have them.” 

Her reaction is exactly what he would expect from anyone to hear such words coming from him. 

“Wh—what?” 

Roman’s eyes divert to the wall beside her as he powers through the discomfort. “It was….it was after my family was killed. I’d have nightmares about it and wake up freaking the fuck out.” Just like her. “That’s when they’d happen.”

“But, I couldn’t tell anyone, because they were already questioning if I would be fit to lead.” He scoffs, “I had to be perfect. I couldn’t let anyone know how fucked up I really was from what happened.” 

He can only imagine that the softness in her voice matches the expression on her face. “Roman….” 

“But, I couldn’t keep dealing with the shit either, so I found this book at my school’s library about mental health and whatnot, and it had a section on panic attacks and how to cope with them. So, I studied and learned them. It’s been fine since then. Haven’t had one in years.” Though that similar budding feeling of panic that used to be present before they’d occur is something Roman’s noticed having versions of for almost the past two weeks.

Since he found out Solana tried to kill herself. 

She lifts her hand to his face, and he closes his eyes. He can feel it. Can sense it. Her sympathy or maybe something different. Maybe empathy. Regardless, he doesn’t want or need it. The point was to not bring attention to his fucked up past but rather help her reduce some of her self-judgment. 

He stands up, forcing her hand to fall down as he instead cups her face, looking and speaking directly at her. “You’re not crazy.” Far from it. And he needs her to know that. “You just….you need help.” His voice shifts into something softer. “And I’m going to make sure you get it.”

Her gaze also shifts. Something both hopeful and sad. “I–I can go?”

Roman only hesitates for a second. “Yes.” 

The answer he gives her is in no way indicative of how he feels about it. He still hates it. Hates the idea of her not coming home for good in three days and instead going to yet another treatment facility. This one longer and farther away.

But, if there’s anything the past few hours have taught him, have shown him, it’s that Dr. Stratus and Gail were right. 

And so was Solana. 

She’s not ready to come home. 

She needs more help.

And he can’t, won’t, be selfish. Won’t be too consumed by his own want and desire to have her back with him. Not when it directly contrasts what she needs. 

And what she needs is continued professional help. 

So, that’s exactly what she’s going to get. 

“I’ll talk to Stratus about what we need to do.” And that’s more so in regards to location solely, so Roman can get a head start on working on safety precautions for her. He’ll keep Bautista with her. That seems to be a good fit. 

Solana, however, is bubbling with emotion again. From a different source. For a different reason. 

She pushes herself into his chest, Roman easily dropping his hands to her waist, kissing the top of her head. “Thank you.” It’s as he holds her, her face buried into his chest that she murmurs those three, sacred, terrifying words. “I love you.”

He closes his eyes. 

It’s one thing to read it but something entirely different to actually hear her say it. 

He doesn’t know how to respond, how to react, what to say. 

Even if does feel the same way. 

So, he says nothing. 

________

“You took her out of the hospital.”

“Sure fucking did.”

Roman has never been so unbothered while sitting in Dr. Stratus office as she paces across, visibly and audibly stressed the fuck out by what occurred. 

After agreeing to let her continue treatment at the other facility, Solana was finally able to get some sleep. Roman as well. Not a ton, of course, because he woke up to her spot in bed next to him vacant. Dulce missing as well.

And if not for the note left for him that read ‘fixing us breakfast <3’, he might have even panicked a bit. Just a smidgen. Of course she would spend time doing something for them rather than herself. It’s such a Solana thing.

Regardless, he enjoyed breakfast with her but hated to see the saddened expression on her face as she said goodbye to her puppy, Dulce’s ears dropping and the whimpering returning as she also picked up on the pending separation.

She’s also felt and been impacted by Solana’s absence. 

But, it’s a necessary absence. 

Solana needs help. 

And it’s that, that oh-so important reminder, Roman keeps repeating to himself as this blonde bitch continues to berate him like he’s a fucking child. 

“Who the hell are you to make that decision?” She continues, pointing at him. “You do not get to remove my patient from my care without speaking to me!”

“I did what I had to do for my wife. She needed to get the fuck out of here.” Roman is a man who doesn’t believe in explaining himself, but given the situation, he makes a small exception. For Solana. Only for her. “But, if you don’t lower your fucking voice, you won’t have to worry about her, or anyone else, being your patient because the dead can’t be fucking psychiatrists.”

Dr. Stratus closes her eyes and shakes her head. “At the very least, you could have just texted me what was going on.”

“Keeping you briefed wasn’t my priority.” At all. “Keeping my wife alive was.”

She opens her eyes, asking, “was she suicidal?”

“She said no.” Roman still isn’t entirely sure he believed her. She could have been telling the truth, but she also could have been lying for a lot of different reasons. Still, that’s not something he feels the need to share. “She said she talked about her rape earlier that day in therapy and was having….flashbacks.”

“Flooding,” Dr. Stratus informs. “It’s when a survivor experiences intrusive thoughts, images, and flashbacks of their trauma.” She then looks at him, almost surprised, “she called you?”

Roman nods. “Said the coping shit wasn’t working.”

The doctor plops back down into her seat, saying more to herself than anything. “Well, I suppose that’s a good sign. That she reached out to you versus….other things.” That’s exactly how Roman feels. “Regardless, in the future, at least let me know what’s going on. I would have told you to give her the Hydroxyzine. We could have seen if it’s helpful.”

Roman doesn’t disagree with her there. The thought of one of her medications potentially being helpful definitely crossed his mind. But, he’s not about to tell this woman that.

He’s got other things he needs to discuss.

“The facility you were telling me about….” Roman looks away, not eager to have this conversation but knowing he needs to. For Solana. “Tell me more.”

________

A loud, guttural, almost animalistic growl leaves Samantha’s mouth at the same time the glass plate is tossed against the wall, shattering and spilling into tiny little pieces all across her kitchen floor.

Not that it makes a difference.

Punching the fridge, she ignores the throbbing in her fist and ineffectively tries to manage her nerves, dissuading the burning urge within to scream. It’s been less than 24hrs since she regained the ability to speak, her jaw finally healed enough and no longer wired shut.

But, now she’s left with nothing but pent up emotion all directed toward one person.

Solana

That fat bitch ruined everything. She stole Roman from her. The man who she’s been with since she was a fucking teenager. The man she always imagined would be her husband and father of her children, who would make her his Queen of the Bloodline, but none of that will happen now.

It won’t happen because of that slashed face whore.

Because Roman chose her over him.

Which brings up unfamiliar feelings towards her former lover.

Roman is an asshole. Always has been. As long as she’s known him, he’s been a dick, so his cruel behavior at times toward her never really bothered her. That’s just his personality. She never took it personally. 

Not until now, at least.

Because now, it’s not just his wife she’s mad at, it’s Roman too.

Granted, her fury toward the troll is significantly worse.

She’d kill the bitch if she could.

“Rough day?”

Samantha nearly jumps across the room at the sound of another person’s voice. She instead is braced against the refrigerator as she lands eyes on the last person she expected to find in her place.

“Seth?”

It takes another second for her to register that it truly is the once friend of her former lover. He sits on her sofa wearing at least three different types of animal print that are all outlined in some kind of bling, hair looking as unkempt as his mental health. 

She’s sly in trying to move closer to the knife set on the counter.

Seth, however, is as perceptive as he is insane. She stills when he casually pulls out a gun. “Ah ah. I just want to talk to you. That’s all.” He makes a face, playing with the gun.“Word on the street is that you got dumped.”

Samantha’s eyes narrow a bit. How does Seth freakin Rollins of all people know about her ‘breakup’ with Roman? Only those close to Roman would know that, and there’s no way anyone close to Roman would be speaking to Seth……

Right?

“Who—”

“You’ll find out about the members of this little crusade once you agree,” he explains, placing the gun on the sofa beside him, casually viewing his nails that are painted a hideous green. Like the color of slime from Nickelodeon back in the day. “Can’t risk snitches, of course.”

More interested than anything, Samantha asks, “what are you talking about?”

“Oh, that’s right.” He giggles, standing up and pulling a flask out of what seems like nowhere. “We’re gonna kill Roman Reigns.” Seth takes a swig as Samantha’s eyes widen, before he adds on, as if he forgot. “And his wife, Sadie.”

“Solana?”

Seth shrugs “Yeah, she can get killed too. Why not?”

Samantha finally laughs, crossing her arms. “You’re even crazier than I realized. You can’t just kill, Roman.” It’s damn near impossible. Does he not know the mountain of bodies that have tried and failed at the very same thing he’s suggesting? “And there’s no way in hell he’ll let you get even close enough to kill that bitch wife of his.”

“Oh, that’s a lot easier than you think.” Seth takes the flask to his mouth again, voice teasing yet malicious. “The Bloodline is full of traitors.”

Samantha goes quiet, wondering how much of this is madness and just how much is true. It seems too asinine to be true. 

But, there’s also the fact that the only way Seth could have known about Roman leaving her was if someone within the Bloodline told him, which would most definitely make them a traitor. And even that feels almost impossible. Roman’s family is notoriously loyal. Who would want to betray him?

The plural form of the word ‘traitor’ is also something that catches her attention. 

Could there be more than one traitor?

Seth meanwhile seems to be in a sense of imaginative blood lust, practically squealing, “the infamous Roman Empire is going to be coming to a gloriously bloody, gory end, and we’re trying to see who all want to be a part of our little murderous, traitorous gang.” 

Again, she’s caught off guard, realizing just now he’s clearly referring to more than himself. “Gang?”

Seth tilts his head, pouting as he says almost mysteriously, “we both know your former lover has no shortage of enemies.”

That is dangerously true, but what’s even more dangerous is this suicide mission Seth is proposing.

“How is this supposed to be any different from any other time people have tried to kill Roman?” As much as she would love to see Solana’s life drain from her ugly ass face, Samantha would rather not lose her life in the process. 

Seth is way too excited to answer. “Because this time, the call is coming from inside the house.” Her eyes widen. “With a little….Nightmare help as well.”

There’s so much to process in that one bombshell of a sentence. “Someone in the Bloodline is orchestrating this?” Not to mention whatever role the Nightmare Factory is playing. That’s just salt on an open, gushing wound. 

This type of betrayal is bound to crush Roman.

Samanth smiles. 

Oh, revenge is so so sweet. 

“I’ll join, but on one condition.” Seth’s brow lifts, a sign he’s ready to hear out her caveat. “That I get to stab and kill that bitch Solana myself. I get to be the one to take her from Roman.”

At the vision alone, Seth’s mad smile grows followed by that crazy ass laugh. “Oh, this just keeps getting better and better.” He claps his hands together, nodding. “You got yourself a deal, curly.”

Samantha nods, pleased with the arrangement. 

Whoever previously took the knife to Roman’s little wife, causing all those ugly ass scars, failed to get the job done. 

Samantha won’t. 

She does have another question, shrugging. “So who all is a part of this shit anyway?”

She’s especially curious about who the traitor is.

Or traitors. 

Of course, it’s just more mental edging with the self-proclaimed visionary. “You’ll get to meet the gang soon enough, but we’ve got one more person to recruit.” Samantha’s curiosity is evident, prompted by Seth casually tossing the flask up and down with a wicked gleam in his empty eyes. “Can’t take down Roman Reigns without inviting his good ole’ pal Brock Lesnar to join in on the fun, now can we?”

[persevereforahappyending]

No Man's Land |3|

Pairing: Sam Carpenter x Reader

Summary: Sam can’t help but be drawn to the cute stranger from her gym, even if everything about them makes them the perfect suspect, just when Ghostface has returned.

Warnings: Fighting, Stabbing, Attempted Murder

Word Count: 2.6k+

Main Masterlist | Series Masterlist

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3

Sam tossed and turned in her bed. She had been trying to fall asleep since she got back from her therapy session. She sat up in her bed, running a hand through her hair. She glanced out the window, watching the raindrops slide down the glass. A light rain had started right after she got home, it just now seemed to be stopping a couple hours later.

She slid out of bed, stretching her arms and legs. She walked over to the window and checked that it was locked, even though she had done so before she got into bed, just like she did every night. She pushed off the windowsill and made her way out of her room. She didn’t hear any talking or the TV playing, which told her everyone else had finally gone to sleep.

She passed Tara’s room first, making sure to stop and check on her sister. She gently opened the door, making sure to go slow enough that it wouldn’t creak. Tara always rolled her eyes when she caught Sam checking in on her, but unless they were in the middle of arguing Tara didn’t seem to say anything about it, Sam thought Tara might have actually appreciated this part of her overprotectiveness. When Sam peeked her head around the door, she saw Tara sprawled out on her bed, peacefully sleeping, one of her arms was half hanging off the bed. Sam couldn’t help but smile at the sight, she was glad her sister could still sleep even with the potential of Ghostface out there again.

Sam gently closed the door as she stepped back into the hall. She hated the door being closed but it was the one thing she compromised on with Tara. She knew if she made Tara keep her door open all the time, she would be crossing the line, and her paranoia would truly be taking over their lives.

As she crossed through the kitchen she peeked her head into the living room. Chad was clutching half his blanket tight against his chest as he was reclined back in the recliner. He occasionally shifted, adjusting himself in the chair and gripping the blanket tighter. Sam shook her head at the sight, somethings never changed, Chad used to do the exact same thing when Sam would babysit him, and he’d pass out on the couch or chair while everyone watched a movie.

Sam silently chuckled at the sight of Mindy and Anika sprawled out on the couch. Anika was cuddled into Mindy’s side, her arms wrapped around Mindy’s waist. Mindy had her right arm wrapped around Anika, holding her close, while her other arm was stretched across the couch, hanging off the side, and her head was thrown back, her mouth half opened as she not so quietly snored.

Sam moved back into the kitchen, opening the refrigerator only to see it bare. It had been a second since they had done any grocery shopping and with the twins constantly coming over, they were running out of food much quicker than they’d normally would. She let the door gently close and when she was glancing around the kitchen her eyes landed on the pizza box still sitting on the dining table. She shrugged and flipped open the lid, seeing exactly one slice left. She quietly laughed to herself, it was better than she was expecting if she was being honest, with Chad around there was hardly ever leftovers. She grabbed the slice and took a bite, enjoying the taste of cold pizza.

Once she finished her pizza she paced back and forth a bit, trying to calm her mind. She hadn’t stopped thinking about Ghostface possibly being out there, about what detective Bailey said about the two students that were killed. If they were planning on trying to kill her and Tara but they died instead, that meant someone really wanted to kill them their self. Sam wasn’t sure who she could have possible pissed off enough to want to murder her. Then she remembered she didn’t have to do anything, her existence was enough to make her ex want to pretend to fall in love with her and then try and kill her, all because her dad was Billy Loomis.

Sam ran a hand through her hair, she tried to shake off the excess energy she had from all the anxiety. “Fuck it,” she whispered. She didn’t think as she grabbed her gym bag and filled her water bottle.

She made sure to scribble a note in case Tara or any of the others woke up. She did a quick once over of the apartment before walking out the door, her gym back slung over her shoulder. She triple checked the locks before she made her way down the stairs. She knew it was stupid to go off on her own, in the middle of the night no less, but there was only one thing that she knew for sure calmed her. Working out in the middle of the night always seemed to help her de-stress more than anything. She kept telling herself she would only be gone an hour as she began the walk to the gym.

Sam looked both ways as she crossed the parking lot, it was three in the morning and there was no one in sight. Sam still couldn’t shake the feeling of being watched, she wanted to right it off as her paranoia getting to her, but she couldn’t help but wonder if Ghostface was truly back. She kept replaying checking on Tara and the twins and locking the apartment in her mind. They were all together, they were all safe, she locked the door, she triple checked that it was locked, but she wasn’t there. If anything happened, she wasn’t there.

She knew she shouldn’t have left them home alone, especially not with Ghostface most likely back but she needed to calm her nerves. She couldn’t stand being in that apartment and not moving. She just kept telling herself that Ghostface usually has a plan and Sam highly doubted that plan involved attacking everyone at the apartment when Sam wasn’t there, that didn’t seem like Ghostface.

Sam swiped her card and waited to hear the little buzz before flinging the door open. As soon as she stepped into the entryway the lights started to kick on. Sam wasn’t sure if they were emergency lights or what but after regular gym hours only a few lights turned on and it was always when the person was in that area of the gym.

Sam looked around the room, besides where she was standing the only lights that were on were the ones that were always on around the perimeter of the room. Even though she didn’t see any cars in the parking lot she knew that didn’t necessarily mean the gym would be empty. She didn’t see any sign of life though. Even though being in an empty gym alone always put her on edge, she was happy for the alone time. She was sure if anyone else was in the gym at the moment she wouldn’t be able to take her eyes off them, assuming they were there to stalk and kill her.

Sam sighed as she walked over to the treadmills. She dropped her bag on the bench next to the treadmill and took out her water bottle. She plopped her water bottle into the cupholder on the machine and began changing the settings. She started slowly walking as the machine got going, popping her earbuds in before it got too fast. Just like before she started off with a light jog, she just needed to work out for an hour or so, exhaust herself enough so she could fall asleep.

She had just started to relax and lose herself in a song when she caught movement of a black cloak out of the side of her eyes. Sam jumped to the side, balancing herself on the right side of the treadmill just as a knife slashed against the controls of the machine. Sam’s eyes went wide as she stepped back off the machine, Ghostface stood before her, tilting his head back and forth as he held the knife at his side.

“Fuck,” she whispered. She knew this was a bad idea, she should have never left the apartment, she knew better than to go off on her own. Ghostface being here at least meant Tara and the others were most likely safe.

Sam walked backwards, weaving her way between the other workout machines. Her eyes never left Ghostface as she slowly followed, getting ever so close with each step. She knew it was only a matter of time before Ghostface ran at her, luckily the one thing she had on Ghostface was that she knew the gym like the back of her hand. Sometimes being paranoid paid off, she scoped out the layout of the gym, memorizing where everything was and where all the exits were the first day she ever stepped foot in the building.

Ghostface suddenly stopped in their tracks making Sam suck in a breath. She could practically see the smile behind the mask. She didn’t need to turn around to know exactly what was behind her. The far-right wall was all brick, lined with weights, the only places for Sam to go was either rush Ghostface and dodge his knife or take her chances by running to the right because on her left was more gym equipment and the windows to the front of the gym.

Sam continued to back up until her back bumped against the weight rack. She steeled her expression. Ghostface slowly stomped forward, his movements calculated but clearly not thinking she was a threat. Sam stared straight into the dark abyss that was the eyes of the mask, her hand felt around behind her until she finally gripped the handle of one of the weights.

As soon as Ghostface raised his knife Sam tightened her grip on the weight and swung it around with all her might. The weight smashed against Ghostface’s hand, sending the knife clattering to the floor. She didn’t hesitate to take off to the right, not bothering to go for the knife. She just needed to get away and get back to Tara.

Sam ran through the gym, the lights clicking on behind her as she passed under them, running too fast for most of them to catch up to her. She jumped over one of the benches but didn’t slow down. She slid when she made a sharp left turn, aiming for the front door.

Ghostface slid in front of her right, making her come to a hard stop before she crashed into him. He didn’t hesitate this time to slash his knife at her, making her lean back, watching as the blade just barely missed her.

Ghostface stalked forward, slashing his knife and making Sam back up once again. She clenched her jaw and glared at the mask figure; he was blocking the front door. She glanced to her left, seeing the glow of the red exit sign in the far corner. She had never gone out that way before, if the door opened it set off an alarm, but she knew it spilled out into an alley. She didn’t really want to end up in a dark alley in New York with Ghostface chasing her, but it seemed to be her best bet.

Sam made a dash for the door, but Ghostface jumped over one of the benches putting himself between her and the door again. She raised her arm when he swung his knife, slashing her forearm this time. Ghostface moved to slash her again, but she stepped back, tripping over a weight someone had left out.

She brought her other hand to her arm, trying to stop the bleeding as best as she could. She backed up until she hit the bench behind her. She could only watch as Ghostface stood tall above her. There was another flash of movement out of the corner of her eye, and something slammed into Ghostface, sending them stumbling back.

Sam couldn’t help the way her mouth fell open at seeing you standing tall, you were the only thing between Sam and Ghostface. Sam could only look up at you, you had seemingly come out of nowhere. She caught the light from the showers out of the corner of her eye, that must have been where you had come from, you had to have been at the gym before Sam ever got there.

You stepped forward, tilting your head as you looked at Ghostface. Your back was to her, but Sam couldn’t see any fear in the way you carried yourself. Ghostface stumbled backwards as you continued forward. Sam had never seen Ghostface intimidated by someone without any weapon.

Ghostface finally seemed to figure themselves out as they gripped the knife tighter and began slashing wildly at you. You leaned from side to side, effortlessly dodging each slash as if you had all the time in the world. You just kept moving forward, forcing Ghostface to walk back, getting further and further away from Sam.

Ghostface stabbed the knife at your right side, making you jump to the left to dodge it. He then stabbed at your other side, but you grabbed the punching bag and blocked the knife. As soon as Ghostface ripped the knife out of the punching bag sand began spilling out of it. You didn’t wait to shove the punching bag, making it smack right into Ghostface’s chest.

Ghostface nearly lost their footing, Sam was surprised the hit hadn’t sent them to the ground. They brought their free hand to their chest, definitely having the wind knocked out of them, they’d surely have a major bruise in the morning. Ghostface tried to shake off the hit though and swung his knife again.

You caught his wrist midair, giving it a hard twist, making him lose grip of the knife. You reached out with your other hand, catching the knife before it could hit the floor then released your attacker’s wrist. You spun the handle around in your hand before you began swinging it at Ghostface.

Each slash of the knife held power, each slash with the intent to kill. You didn’t hesitate to swing the knife; it was as if you had done this before. Sam was sure you could quickly close the distance and end Ghostface, but you were almost playing with him. Ghostface continued to scramble back until the back of their foot caught a mat and sent them to the ground.

You stood above Ghostface, tilting your head as you looked down at them. Sam held her breath as she waited to see what your next move would be. You flipped the knife in your hands, you looked quite comfortable with a knife, almost as if holding it were natural.

You raised the knife but before you could bring it down onto Ghostface another one came out of the shadows, stabbing you in the side. You collapsed to your knees, but you didn’t drop the knife, you swung your arm, slashing the second Ghostface on the leg. The second Ghostface didn’t attack again, they ran forward, helping the first one up and the two rushed out the exit, setting off the alarm.

You finally dropped the knife, falling back to the ground. Sam scrambled to you, pulling out her phone and dialing 911 as she kneeled down by your side. “It’s okay,” she whispered, pressing her hands to your wound. She tried to stop the bleeding as best as she could as she waited for help to arrive. She didn’t understand why you’d help, why you’d risk your safety for her.

Taglist: @thatshyboy1998 @artrizzler19

[q8qwertyuiop8p]

Does Silco Know?

I'm surprised by the number of people I've talked who believe Silco is unaware of what Singed is doing to Vander, that it is all happening behind his back. Here I wanted to go over the reasons why Silco almost certainly played a roll in Warwick's creation, and perhaps even ordered it.

Weapon of War

Silco needs terrifying, never-before-seen weapons if an overwhelmingly underarmed Zaun is to scare Piltover into submission- it's why he has shimmer created and why he instructs Jinx to create Fishbones. It is likely that Warwick is intended to be another one of these wildcards.

Money and Strength

Singed's funding comes from Silco, so it would be difficult for him to hide such an audacious project. Singed also doesn't have the strength to carry shimmer-Vander's corpse away to his lab, but Silco's thugs do.

Holding On

Silco's biggest flaw is his inability to let the past and his loved ones go, and the way he, like Jinx, destroys what he loves. Silco romanticizes the betrayal and reminisces of the time he and Vander fought together. He refuses to give up on Vander, even forgiving him for the drowning and trying to reconcile. Vander has moved on, he refers to Silco as "brother" only in the past tense, but Silco continues to call Vander brother, even after the failed reconciliation and his "death." When Silco finds Jinx on the bridge, he tells Singed to keep her alive, even insists that "she can't die," despite being warned that the process will be torturous and it would be more merciful to let her go. He can't bring himself to do this because he loves her too much, too selfishly, to give her up to death or topside. Would it be that much of a stretch to suggest he did the same with Vander?

Hallucinations

After the explosion, Jinx hallucinates Vi, Mylo, and Claggor because she knows she killed them or indirectly caused their deaths. Jinx's bomb also helped to bring about Vander's demise, and she saw Vander's corpse. Despite this, she doesn't hallucinate him- not until e9, when she is already in a severe psychotic episode and Vi yells his name. Plus, in the concept for her minigun, she has scrawled "THREE LIVES" into one of the barrels. Mylo, Claggor, and Vi, but what about the fourth? It seems that Jinx may be aware that Vander is still alive, but how could she know unless Silco also knows?

So, if Silco knows, why would he talk to Vander's statue and not Warwick?

A- Privacy

Talking to Warwick means talking in the presence of Singed, who we see in e8 Silco doesn't trust. It's bad enough before you remember that not only does Silco say that Vander, who the undercity turned against, was right all along; he reveals that he is in the same spot Vander was in and is going to make the same decision; he is going to choose Jinx over Zaun, the same choice that lead to Vander's downfall. Silco is not going to risk Singed knowing that.

B- Pain

Throughout the show, Silco disassociates from pain, both his own and the pain he causes others. You can see this from the way he romanticizes his trauma, flinches and looks away at the cat being ripped apart, and reacts to the death of Renni's child. You can also see this when he kidnaps Vander- the blank, distant expression on arrival, the way he looks down and away when Benzo dies and Vander is punched, and how his good eye shines on the verge of tears. But he doesn't cry and he never does, because in his situation, to feel pain and empathy is a death sentence- the perfect way to prove your weakness and turn your allies against you. After all, it was his empathy towards Jinx that caused him to love her, and it was his love for her that turned Sevika and the chembarons against him. If killing Vander's friend and knocking him out was that painful for Silco, imagine how much worse it would be for him to see Vander disfigured, barely alive and in a constant state of mind-shattering agony, being sliced open and pumped full of chemicals. Singed had to drug Silco to keep him from going crazy over Jinx's similar transformation. Silco simply cannot bear to face the pain that he puts Vander through.

[fashionteahouse]

out of your league - paul x reader

AN: Thanks so much for the love for the 1st part of this story 💜 Should I make this full blown story? Just lmk! xoxo

“Mm. I don’t like the word bye. Tell me you’ll see me again.”

You look at him, surprised that he wants to see you again. Clearly, he enjoyed your company.

“Okay. I’ll see you later.” you speak out.

He watched you go up your stairs and go into your house before pulling off. You felt so in a daze, you didn’t know why you felt this way. You replayed the day in your head when you showered.

You replayed it when you were trying to count sheep to go to sleep.

While you were getting ready for school, you had the realization that you were going to see him again. You made your way to the front of your house and opened your front door and Paul’s car startled you. It was so unexpected, you didn’t even have time to pump yourself up.

You walked closer and in front of the passenger side door and you wait for him to roll down the window, which he does.

“Get in.” he says like this like it was a frequent thing that you two do.

You take your time to get in, questions swirl your mind.

“Good morning. Thanks.” you tell him.

He nods in acknowledgment.

“So…you decided to come to school?” you ask, the silence after was deafening but come on, he came to school like it was an occasion.

“Yeah.” he just says and you just shift your backpack that’s between your legs into a more comfortable position. You choose to look outside and watch the trees and street signs fleet pass.

You loved these types of mornings. It was a slight drizzle but it was so relaxing.

“You look nice.” he said with a sentence and you look over, he was actually looking down at your outfit.

“Oh, thank you.” you say, your heart start to race.

You mentally face palm yourself for being so nervous and flattered. “He is only driving you to school.” you kept telling yourself. “He’s only doing a nice gesture.” you said in your head. You didn’t want to get your hopes up and assume things that weren’t like that.

It was ingrained in you to compliment someone back if they compliment you. You look over to see what he has on. Everything was nice. His entire outfit matched with crisp shoes, new shoes that you knew for a fact that recently came out.

“I like your outfit too.” you say and he grins, “Thank you.” He replies in a sultry tone.

You swallow hard. Everything he does is with ease. Cool without even trying.

The school building comes into view. You already take your seatbelt off and say your thanks. Before he could reply you pick up your pace in going into the building. You show your school ID, going in through bag checks, and going straight to your locker.

You get ready for your first class and only bring out what you need before putting your bag and jacket in there. You close your locker door and Paul was there.

“Oh shit!” you say under you breath with a chuckle, he came out of nowhere.

“Before you rolled out, I wanted to know if you did this.” He says to you and an over-folded homework sheet is in display of his hands. “Yeah, I did it. I can teach you, you know so you don’t have to keep copying. What happens when the test comes?” you say.

He glances at it and then back to you. “It’s boring.”

You were about to speak out but your best friend, Kim comes into view, giving you a hug. This makes you smile and chuckle, happy to see her.

You just reach for Paul’s worksheet, knowing he won’t have time to copy it all since the first bell was about to ring. “I’ll just do it.” you tell him and he plainly gives it to you and walks away.

Kim links her arm with hers and once you two start walking, she hounds you. “Why are you doing his homework? Can’t he do it himself?”

“He needed help. There’s no time.” you tell her.

She shakes her head and tells you ,”Be careful. He’s just going to use you just to pass. Who knows if he’s even going to pass this year.”

Your feelings were hurt even though she wasn’t talking about you. It felt like she was though. He wasn’t even all that bad from what you’ve been around. He just wasn’t strong in that particular subject, that was okay, school wasn’t for everyone.

You did complete the worksheet. You wrote it sloppier than your own handwriting, not knowing how he even writes. Plus, the teacher seemed to know everyone’s handwriting.

You two had the same lunch before history. You, Kim, and a couple of other friends put your book bags in the seats you all were claiming before heading to the lunch line. You seen Paul come down a stairwell and you make your way towards him. The paper you hand him was refolded and he stops to look at it.

“I did it. Just changed the answers around a bit.” you remind him. He nods as he remembers and chuck it in his back pocket. You were about to walk away until he says, “You eating lunch?”

You nod and he nods too and follows you. Kim and others were a bit ahead of you in line so you cross your arms and lean against the wall, waiting for your turn to pick out what you want.

Paul’s friends are now behind him, starting up conversation. As the line moves, you feel the fabric of his clothes on you, you pay it no mind.

Once you have your food, pay extra for a snack and juice instead of the milk they offer, you make your way to your table.

“Where you going?” Paul asks.

“To..my table.” you say.

“You don’t want to sit with me?” he asks, it caught you off guard how he was actually perplexed that you weren’t following him and his crew.

You shrug, not knowing what to say, and when you sit down, he slowly sits down at another table just watching you. The look on his face had a look of gloom, not even paying attention to his own conversation.

You try your best to keep your mind on the conversation that your peers were having in front of you. You kept in mind what Kim said. You didn’t want to be used in any way.

You made your way to history and the class dragged on. Paul came in late, lazily puts his homework in the homework bin, sits in his seat in the back of the classroom and goes to sleep. The teacher doesn’t even bother to bring attention to it, they didn’t feel like arguing with him and wanted to get through the lesson.

As the class was filing out, he was still sleep. Nobody wanted to wake him up out of fear. You walk over, shake his warm arm, not too hard to startle him. His bloodshot eyes meet yours. “Class is over.” you tell him.

He looks around, stretch a bit and scrunch his eyes. He gets up and you just make your way to your next class.

When the day was over, you went to retrieve your jacket, the rain from earlier being heavy now. You’re almost down the hallway, “Y/N!” you turn around. Paul dangles his car keys. “You want a ride?”

You definitely did not want to walk in the rain or get on the rowdy bus. You nod and thank him. You two walk in stride and you poke fun of him for sleeping. “I just couldn’t do it. I told you it’s boring.” he simply replies.

Seated in his car, his scent being all over the car, you put your seatbelt on. He yawns and asks, “Do you want to come back over?”

You had no plans on having afterschool plans, the teachers had no mercy and homework was piled up today. “I got homework. I have to tackle it before I feel like I won’t feel like it.” you reply.

“Cool. We can do it together. Plus you said you were going to help me.”

“I said I can help you. Not that I would.”

“Same thing.”

That’s how you two were sprawled on Paul’s bed, that he didn’t bother to make up. He even changed into his house clothes, which wasn’t much since it was loose basketball shorts and no shirt. You tried to not stare too much. Just peeked glances when he would turn away. You were only there to teach him some strategies that helped you understand the hardness of your work.

But it seemed impossible, he kept distracting you. Once you went to explain how to get a certain answer, he would rub his finger softly back and forth on the back of your resting hand. That would give you butterflies and it would make you retract your hand, due to nervousness. He found this amusing. It was as if he knew the effect he had on you.

“I want to take a break.” he decided.

“We barely put a dent in.” you say.

He sighs softly and looks around his room. ���Want to play cards?”

“I don’t want to play go fish.” you say with a hint of annoyance.

He nudges you, “Come on i’m not playing that.”

You two shared a game of spades. As the game was still fresh, you two organizing your cards from highest to lowest rank, he makes a deal. “If you win, we can go back to our work.”

“Good.” you say and look at your cards.

“If I win…” he starts to say and waits for you to look up. He had a mischievous look on his face that makes you roll your eyes.

“What? If you win, what?” you ask.

“If I win…you have to…kiss me.” he says with an anticipation effect.

You shake your head and scoff. You knew if you two kissed, things will never be the same. That’s all you would have on your mind. You wouldn’t even look at him the same. Plus, this guy seemed to know the game better than you. He did have to teach you the rules after all.

“I’m not doing that.” you playfully say.

He nods his head to solidify that’s exactly what’s going to happen and hums a response. You zero in on the game you two were playing. You wanted to save yourself the trouble, so you were determined to win. It didn’t seem to matter, everything so far was working in his favor. He won trick after trick. You only won one. After scoring, he did in fact win.

You groan while he laughs in satisfaction. Scooping the cards up and puts them back where they belong. You lamely announce you have to go to the bathroom, standing up and make your way towards his bedroom door.

“Uh uh.” he says to you, clearly seeing through your excuse. “I won. So, where my prize?”

“It wasn’t a fair win. Before this game, I didn’t even know how to play.” you say.

“A deals a deal.” He says.

You stand there for a sec, too stunned, because since he did in fact win, you had to carry out the deal.

“What are you waiting for. Let’s get it over with.” you tell him when he doesn’t move. He gets up and is now very close in front of you, nervousness is seeping through your entire body. You’ve never been this close to him before, especially face to face. He hurt so much to look at him because he just had a face that anybody would go crazy for.

“I said you have to kiss me. So i’m ready when you are.” he says lowly and looks at your lips.

You would’ve never thought in a million years that you would be in Paul Lahore’s room, about to kiss Paul Lahote. You suck in a shaky breath and quickly lean forward and press your lips to his. He’s not satisfied and his face doesn’t hide it.

“That was not a kiss.”

“Yes it was.” you tell him.

“No. I want a real kiss.” he says and there’s no signs of him giving up. He knows you’re stalling, so he curl his finger in a ‘come here’ motion to hurry you up.

You slowly inch and inch and you just lay your lips to his. He then takes the lead because he doesn’t know when’s the next time this will ever happen. He wants to make the most of this. Head titled, he licks your bottom lip to get an entry and caressed his tongue with your own. His hand creeps behind your neck and you had no choice but to move forward close up on him.

The butterflies weren’t in your stomach this time, it was in your womanhood and you felt excited, even though this wasn’t your plan. He lets you go with a sensual snack and you’re breathing heavy. His eyes were low with swollen lips and it made you want to kiss him again.

You don’t even know what to say, so you two look at each other for a minute. You turn to sit down on his bed and look at the floor. You felt the bed dip beside you and glance over and he’s still looking at you, searching your face for something.

He opens his mouth to say something but a door closing catches both of your attention. He goes out to greet his father, who just came home from work. While he’s gone for that duration, you feel your bottom lip with your tongue and realize you can still taste him. You just simply can’t believe that just happened.

You get your school work in order and focus back into the academic mission that was originally supposed to transpire. You don’t even know if you can focus again.

“That was my dad.” he tells you.

You nod your head in acknowledgment.

“Can we…finish up?” you ask timidly.

He sits now and actually lets you take the lead in showing him how to solve the problems. There was a sense of tension but you pushed past it to finish. When you two are finished, it’s nighttime and you know you have to head home soon.

“Alright, hopefully you got the hang of it.” you say as you’re stuffing your belongings back into your backpack.

“I need your number in case I need your help again.” he boldly says. Your hands start to get shaky again. You didn’t know whether or not you wanted this to be a frequent thing. Your thoughts stop when he extends his phone for you to enter your number. You take it hesitantly and enter it and give it back to him.

You two make your way downstairs and Paul’s dad is sitting in his designated chair watching whatever is on the television.

You two greet each other and he just puts an arm around your shoulder to steer you out. You surprisingly like this gesture and you wish it could be like this forever. You two get settled in a car and before silence takes over he speaks.

“I want to take you out.”

“Oh..where?”

He chuckles as if it were an inside joke, “I mean.. How should I say this?” he thinks for a moment. The ticking of the turning signal fills the air. “I want to always do what we did. I like it. And I like you.”

You don’t trust your voice, you don’t even know what to say, so you just nod.

Your house comes into view and he says, “I’ll pick you up tomorrow morning okay?”

“Okay. Thanks again.” You opened the door and before you lift yourself out of the seat, you turn to him and say, “I think…I like you too.” you say.

He gives you a smile that lets you know he is satisfied with your answer.

As you lie in bed, you were right. That’s all you kept thinking about. It got to the point where the night felt like it was dragging on. All you wanted to do was sleep it off but it seemed impossible. Every time you closed your eyes it seemed like you were reliving it over and over again. Your mind started to travel to different directions, thinking of what would happen if you two kept going and didn’t stop. All of the tossing and turning made your pillow warm and flipped it over to retry sleep.

The next day, you were a bit tired from getting only 4 hours of sleep. You tried not to think too much of your outfit, even though you couldn’t get out of your head of how he told you when you looked nice.

You said goodbye to the remaining people in your household who haven’t left yet and made your way outside. He was there as promised, with the engine running. You get in and tell him good morning.

He greets you back but more importantly he leans over and kisses your cheek softly with so much affection it almost seemed out of place for his hard exterior. Your face feels hot and a small grin creeps your lips.

You two make small talk and then you start to yawn.

“Tired?” he asks.

“Yeah.” you couldn’t wait for the day to already be over so you can jump in your bed and take a nap.

“Up thinking about me?” he asks cockily.

You roll your eyes playfully and don’t say anything. He just snickers at your reaction.

He pulls into the school lot and you already have your seatbelt unbuckled, he places a warm hand above your chest to hold you in place for a second.

“Not so fast.” he teases. You look at him in confusion and he makes it his duty to kiss you again. It was unexpected and it wasn’t a quick peck. He held your chin with his index finger and thumb.

After he pulls away, with you trying to catch your breath, he walks over to your side on the car door and lets you out. You walk in stride with him and he has an arm resting around you, pulling you close. People look of course but with him, it doesn’t feel embarrassing.

He walks you to your locker and patiently waits for you to put your belongings in there. He never brought a backpack. You don’t know how he survived this long doing such thing.

Kim comes into view but slowly decrease her speed in walking when she sees who’s with you.

“Hey Y/N.” she says to you awkwardly.

You say hi to her as if it was the most normal day.

“I’ll meet you in class.” she simply says and makes her way.

Paul walks you to where you needed to go.

Whenever you’re out of class, he’s right there. He holds onto you as if you’re going to run away if he lets go. You’re so absorbed in his company that you don’t even meet up with Kim and your other friends. You get your lunch together. He steers you to his table, not trying to repeat the same thing that happened the previous day.

Kim looks at you with a ‘what are you doing’ expression look on her face. You give her an apologetic look and Paul sit you down super close next to him. His friends sense the new company but they don’t say anything out of line because Paul is giving them all a look that could kill. He keeps one hand placed on the outer side of your thigh.

He softly makes conversation with you. Each vibrational wave of his voice raising hairs on the back of your neck, suddenly paying attention how attractive his voice is.

In history class, he’s sleep as always.

The day is over and he doesn’t even have to tell you that he’s driving you home. As the school is out of view, he’s not driving in the direction of your home.

“I’m tired, I want to take a nap.” you tell him, completely wiped from the school day. Mentally cursing yourself for not getting enough sleep.

“You can sleep with me.” he says.

You’re nervous again. Walking with him through his house and you sit on his bed while he changes out of his school clothes.

When he comes back in the room, he pulls his covers back and it looks enticing, looking like you’ll get the best sleep of your life from it.

“Come on. I thought you were tired.” he says impatiently.

You take off your jacket and place it in the chair that it’s in room and lay on your side. He lays down after you and pulls you to him and kisses you once more. When he’s done, you turn to get some sleep and buries his face in the back of your neck and you two drift happily into slumber.

[ahsokaismyqueen]

Orange Juice Pairing - Tyler Owens x Female!Reader Summary - When it's time to interview a group of storm chasers for your new book, you get sent back to your hometown. You never would have guessed one of the people you'd be interviewing would be your ex boyfriend. And you might still be a little in love with him. Word Count - 13k my god I'm sorry Playlist Warnings - 18+ ONLY. Tyler Smut. Language

Everything looked the same, but somehow different. 

You hadn’t stepped foot in this town in ten years, and you were nervous as hell to be here now. This town held a lot of memories and people that you hadn’t visited in a long time. If your agent had told you where you had been going before putting you on the plane, you probably would have asked if there was somewhere else, some other storm chaser group that wasn’t based in Arkansas you could interview. She believed that she was doing a nice thing, surprising you with a trip to your hometown. 

You didn’t have the heart to tell her that it may be your hometown, but it also was home to your worst memory. 

A sigh left your lips as you pulled up to a familiar gas station, and pushing the memories out of your mind, you put the car in park. 

The Tornado Wranglers. That was the group of chasers you would be talking to. Your agent had insisted that they were the best of the best. Apparently they had a very large YouTube following, and their leader was, “charismatic and oozed charm”, according to your agent. He was also the hottest cowboy she’d ever seen. 

Those words brought a faint smile to your face, and you pulled out your phone to text her. 

Landed, and am currently waiting at the gas station. 

A few moments later, a response came through. Any sign of hot cowboys yet? 

You let out a laugh. Not yet, but I’ll keep you informed. 

Your fingers settled on the door handle. There was no reason to put this off anymore. You were here, and you were going to have to face what was out there, for better or worse. You opened the door and climbed out of your car. 

It smelled the same. The gas station had been updated to be more modern, but the faint scent of gasoline and rice from the farms remained. Walking inside, you found little had changed. There was an updated register, a few more products offered, but that was about it. When your eyes caught sight of your favorite candy, a grin spread across your face, and you found yourself reaching for them, even though you hadn’t had them in years. 

You didn’t recognize the cashier, which you were grateful for. A part of you had almost expected everyone you knew to pop out of nowhere as soon as your feet touched the ground. Now you realized how ridiculous that was. In fact, you might go this whole trip without setting eyes on a single person from before. Thanking the cashier, you made your way back outside right on time to see a large red truck turning in followed by a camper that was blaring a Tanner Adell song. You couldn’t see the driver of the truck because of the cowboy hat and sunglasses that partially obscured his face, but the guy in the passenger seat recognized you at once. “Hey! That’s her!” You could hear him say it since his window was open. 

The guy pulled to a stop, and the one in the passenger seat ran around the front of the car. His hair was dark and shoulder length, but covered with a baseball cap, and the bottom half of his face supported some facial hair. He was dressed much like you expected a tornado chaser to dress, shirt and shorts in different shades of dark green with a bandana around his neck. “Hey, I’m Boone.” He said, holding out his hand for you. “I gotta say, I’m a big fan.” He said the last part in an almost whisper, like he didn’t want anyone else to hear him. 

Which, considering you wrote romance books, he probably didn’t. Not the first man to say something similar to you, you nodded with a sincere smile, shaking his hand. “It’s nice to meet you. You guys are the Tornado Wranglers I’m assuming?” 

“Yeah, that’s Dexter and Dani.” He said pointing to two people that were exiting the camper behind them. “There’s Lily.” He said, pointing to a girl getting out of another car that you hadn’t even noticed. “And this is our fearless leader, Tyler.” 

At that moment, the world around you slowed down. In fact, you were pretty sure all the air was sucked out of your lungs. It couldn’t be him. Out of every person in the world you could be working with, it couldn’t be the one . . . But he took off his cowboy hat, and even though it had been ten years, he was unmistakable. You would know that face anywhere, after all, you saw it all the time in your dreams. 

For a moment, you thought he might not recognize you. It had been ten years, you’d both changed in that time, but the moment his eyes landed on you, he knew exactly who you were. He said your name, pure disbelief in his tone as he took a step forward. 

You nodded, unsure of how to respond. The two of you hadn’t left on the best of terms, but there were so many years before that. So many beautiful memories that you’d never be able to forget. Half of you wanted to run and hide, the other half (okay maybe more like three fourths) wanted to run into his arms. How could you do that though when you were the one who left? 

Tyler didn’t hesitate though. You watched as a slow grin formed on his face that turned into a bright smile, a smile that never failed to make your heart skip a beat, and the next moment he was hurrying towards you. Within seconds you were wrapped up in a hug so tight your feet weren’t even on the ground anymore. 

God it felt good. You slid your arms around his neck, hugging him back just as tight, and let out a little laugh as he spun you around. Your eyes closed automatically, and you realized at that moment while you may have written about the way Tyler made you feel, it was nothing compared to the actual emotions. You remembered how his arms always felt like home, and it was no different now. They must have some sort of magic, because no matter how long it had been, they brought your mindset right back to the teenager who was crazy in love with her boyfriend. 

After what was probably too long, Tyler put you back on the ground, slowly and a little too intimately for the strangers his team thought you were. In fact, he didn’t even fully let go of you, keeping his hands on your hips. You found yourself unable to let go of him too though, your hands resting on his forearms as he stared at you in disbelief. “I can’t believe you’re here.” 

“I can’t believe you’re here.” You said, squeezing his arms. “You’re a storm chaser?” It made perfect sense when you thought about it. Tyler had always had such a good instinct for weather. You couldn’t count the amount of times during school when he told you football games were going to get canceled because it was going to storm. He was never wrong. You just never expected him to quit bull riding. 

“Yeah, got a meteorology degree from U of A and everything.” Tyler said, and your breath caught in your throat. Not just because his thumbs had started stroking your hips, but because of his words too. 

Tyler had done it. He had done what you had always known he was beyond capable of doing. The shy smile on his face, the love, care, and pride you still, and always would have for him rushed to the surface. Overwhelmed with emotions from the past, you felt tears fill up your eyes as you looked at him. “I’m so proud of you, Ty.” You told him, and you meant every word. 

There was no other way to describe it. He was beaming, and god you had forgotten how beautiful that smile was. It was like the sun, almost too bright to look at. 

“I get the feeling you two know each other?” 

You had forgotten that little aspect of being with Tyler. How everything else would disappear the moment he looked into your eyes. You took a step back from him, letting go of his arms even though every part of your body wanted you to keep touching him. His hands lingered on you for a moment, but then he let go as well. “I guess you could say that.” Tyler said, “this is the girl that broke my heart ten years ago.” 

“Wait,” one of the girls, you were pretty sure it was Lily, stepped forward. “I thought that girl’s name was-”

They knew your name. Tyler had talked about you enough that they knew who you were. “That is my name. My writing name is a pseudonym.” You admitted. Heat rushed to your skin, but there was no malice in Tyler’s voice or face. He was just looking at you with a fond smile, as if lost in the same memories you found swirling around in your mind. 

“So, you’re a big time writer now, huh? You always did tell the best stories.” Tyler said. 

“Man, you should read them. In fact, now that I think about it, one of the main guys kinda reminds me of-” Boone started to say, but you cut him off. 

There was no way you were ready for that conversation. “So, um, where did you guys want to talk?” You spoke up, trying to change the subject as subtly as you could. 

The look Tyler gave you said he saw right through your bullshit, but he didn’t comment on it, just grinned mischievously at you. “How about Frankie’s?” 

Of course he would suggest Frankie’s. It was the bar that the two of you used to go to all the time after rodeos. There were a lot of memories of playing pool, laughing with friends and dancing to whatever band was playing there. While you weren’t sure you were ready for all those memories to hit again, the draw of going back there with Tyler was too much. “Okay,” you agreed. “I’ll meet you guys- ”

“No need for that. You can ride with me.” Tyler said, patting the large red truck. 

Being in an enclosed space with your ex boyfriend definitely didn’t seem like a good idea. “Oh, that’s not-”

“It’s really cool. You’ll want to take a peek. He customized it all himself and everything. This baby can drive straight into a tornado.” Boone said while Tyler continued to grin at you. 

“Research is what you’re here for right?” Tyler asked you. 

Yes. That was a good reminder for yourself. You were here to learn about the essentials of storm chasing for your next book, not to spend all your time thinking about how good Tyler looked after ten years. “Right,” you agreed, and then watched as Tyler walked all the way over to the passenger seat and held it open for you. 

“Well, in that case, right this way ma’am.” 

————————

To your slight surprise, Tyler kept everything professional in the truck. He showed you all the features, and you couldn’t help but be mesmerized by it all. It was impressive, not only what he had thought of, but had attached himself. “Is this normal? I mean do a lot of storm chasers have vehicles they’ve rigged up?” 

“Nothing like this.” He said with pride in his voice as he grinned over at you. “I spent years putting this thing together.” 

“When you do something, you always go big.” You teased, smirking at him. “Remember that time in high school when we just wanted to fill the principal's office with ducks, and instead you said we should fill the whole school?” 

Tyler scoffed. “Of course I do. I got a month of detention for that because Belinda ratted me out.” 

“You did stand her up for a date.” You reminded him. 

“Yeah well,” Tyler glanced over at you again. “You needed me.” 

Your cheeks heated as the memories of that night flooded your mind. It hadn’t been long after your Dad had passed. You had gotten stupid drunk at a party that he hadn’t wanted to go to. You had been walking home, stumbling home really, when a familiar truck pulled up beside you. It turned out that Tyler had been waiting nearby for at least an hour after feeling like something was off. 

He held you in his arms in that truck for hours while you cried, letting out emotions you’d been holding back for months. Then he took you home and snuck into your bedroom to hold you some more. The next morning you told him you didn’t want to be just friends anymore. He told you he hadn’t wanted to be just friends for a long time. 

The two of you were inseparable from that moment until the day you left. Almost as if he could sense where your mind was, a palpable tension filled the truck. 

You weren’t ready to talk about it though. 

Thankfully you were saved from any further discussion as your phone went off with a text. It was from your agent, checking in again. 

“Boyfriend?” Tyler asked. 

You shot him a look, trying to bite back a smile. “That’s not very subtle of you.” 

He sent you a look right back. “Wasn’t trying to be.” 

“Agent.” You answered, choosing to ignore his response. “Who I now have to awkwardly tell that the ‘hottest cowboy she’s ever seen’ is actually my ex-boyfriend.” 

“So you really had no idea?” Tyler asked. 

You shook your head. “Not a clue. I didn’t even know where I was going until I got to the airport and she sent my travel information.” 

“Gotta say . . . I’m surprised. I never thought you’d step foot in the town again.” He said, pulling into the small parking lot. 

Glancing up at the building, you bit your bottom lip. “I wasn’t sure I would either.” 

Frankie’s was exactly what you would picture when you hear the words, “small town bar”, but as soon as you walked in, you couldn’t help but smile at the familiarity. It was big for a small town bar, featuring bars on both sides of the room, plenty of tables, as well as a couple of pool tables, and a stage with a small dancing space in front of it. Most of the furniture was wooden and looking a little rough, but they kept the lighting dim enough that it wasn’t very noticeable. There weren’t a whole lot of people, but there was no band playing, and it was a weekday night. It put you a little more at ease. 

“This place hasn’t changed a bit.” You said, looking around. 

Tyler shook his head in agreement. “That’s why I love it so much. Feel like I’m right back into my early twenties when I walk back in here.” 

“That was a long time ago for you.” You teased. 

He clutched his chest, scrunching his eyes at you and giving you a wounded look, but there was a playful edge to it. “Ouch. So you do still have some bite to you.” 

You smirked at him. “You bring it out in me.” 

Tyler’s frown turned to a grin as he placed his hand on the small of your back, sending chills down your spine. “Let’s grab a booth for everybody.” 

The next several hours consisted of you asking the Tornado Wranglers crew every question you wrote down as well as thought of. They not only answered honestly, but never talked down to you like you were stupid for not knowing something either. You loved the relationship that they clearly had with each other. They treated each other like family, with their own strengths and weaknesses that the other members of the team either supported or built upon. You knew immediately it was something you were going to want to include in your book. Not only that, but they were hilarious, and since they knew who you were, they seemed to be ribbing Tyler extra hard. 

“All right, you know damn well that was an accident.” Tyler said, pointing a finger at Dexter who was laughing hysterically along with the rest of the table. 

“I don’t know, it doesn’t sound like an accident to me Tyler.” You said, raising your eyebrows at the man sitting next to you. 

Tyler narrowed his eyes at you and bumped your knee with his under the table. “Now don’t you start.” 

“Hey, don’t be rude to our guest.” Dani said. 

“Too late for that. He hasn’t even gotten her a drink yet.” Lily spoke up, shaking her head at him in disappointment. 

“Oh, you don’t have to-”

Tyler shook his head. “No, they’re right.” He started sliding out of the booth. His hand reached up and gave your shoulder a squeeze. “I’ve got you.” 

“I notice he didn’t ask you what you wanted to drink.” Dexter said with a little grin after Tyler made his way to the bar. 

You bit your bottom lip. You hoped he remembered. “We’ve known each other a long time.” 

“Okay, now that he’s gone.” Boone leaned forward, putting his hands on the table. “One Last Rodeo. Theo. He’s based on Tyler isn’t he?” 

Heat rushed to your face. So Boone definitely had read your books. Looking back on it, it was pretty obvious that your first book had been based on Tyler. You were heartbroken, and trying to find a way to get it out on the page. The book was your way of coping with your breakup and how you wished it would have ended instead of the way that it did. By the time someone wanted to actually publish it, you realized how obvious the similarities were, and it was one of the reasons you wanted to write under a fake name. Since Boone had read your book, and now knew that Tyler was your ex . . . It couldn’t have been hard to put together. Still, you couldn’t bring yourself to admit it outloud. “A writer never tells her secrets.” You said. 

They were all grinning at you though. “Oh, look how flushed her face is.” Dani said. 

“It’s definitely about him.” Lily said. 

You opened your mouth to deny it, even though it seemed pointless, but before you could you were interrupted. “Here you go,” he said, sliding back into the booth and putting a glass filled with an orange drink in front of you. 

“What is that?” Boone asked, “some kind of tropical-”

“Orange juice.” You answered, smiling over at Tyler. “You did remember.” 

Tyler gave you a look of disbelief, like he was insulted. “Of course I did.” When he saw the confused looks of his friends he explained, “she doesn’t drink.” 

“Twelve years sober.” You said. “Not something I’m against anyone else doing, it’s just not for me.” Tyler slung his arm over the back side of the booth closest to you, and you had to fight the immediate urge to lean back into his embrace. The rest of the team was smirking at you, and you lifted the glass to your lips to take a sip. “So I’ve just got one more question for you guys.” You said trying to change the subject. 

“Fire away.” Dani said. 

“Why do you guys do it?” That was what you really wanted to know. “I grew up here. I know how dangerous, how scary these things can be. Why do you guys willingly risk your life for something that seems to have no real reward?” 

There was silence around the table for a moment, and you made sure to avoid Tyler’s face. When you had written these questions, you had no clue he was one of the ones you’d be asking, and this question hit a little too close to the reason for your breakup. You didn’t think you could look at him if he answered. 

“We like to help.” Lily said. “That’s a factor. We sell these shirts, and we use the money to get people stuff like food and water.” 

“Then there’s just the beauty of it. Yes, it’s dangerous and destructive, but there’s also something incredible about it as well. There’s so many factors to tornados we don’t understand. Seeing them come together in person is . . . Indescribable.” Dexter added, while they all nodded their heads in agreement. 

“There’s the adrenaline too.” Boone spoke up with a grin. “I’ve never felt more alive than when we’re chasing.” 

Your body tensed at his words, memories of your last argument with Tyler trying to invade your mind. Once again, you felt sure he could sense what you were thinking as you felt his gaze on the side of your face. 

“It’s hard to put into words without actually seeing it.” Tyler said. “You should come on a chase.” 

That made you look at him, your eyes wide in shock that he would even suggest it. “I don’t think that’s a good idea.” 

“Why not?” Tyler leaned towards you. “Scared?” He asked with a smirk. 

“Yes.” You answered honestly. 

“Ah, you’d be perfectly safe with Tyler. He’s got a knack for these things.” Boone said, and you looked over at him to find him grinning at the two of you. “You’d barely be in any danger at all.” 

You didn’t doubt that, but heading straight into something that could be so destructive had never been your thing. Hell, you hadn’t even gotten on a horse until Tyler talked you into it. “Still, any danger is too much danger for me.” 

Tyler shrugged. “The offer is there if you change your mind.” Tyler said, and you knew him well enough to see the flash of disappointment on his face. 

Weirdly, you felt a little disappointed in yourself too. 

————————

For the past hour, you’d been pacing around your motel room. Tyler had driven you back to your car, then followed you to the motel that funnily enough, him and the rest of the Wranglers were staying at as well. It was the only motel in your hometown, but knowing that Tyler was a few doors down from you made you anxious. 

God, seeing him again had been your worst nightmare and best daydream all rolled into one. It was so easy to think that after ten years you were over someone. Then you see them again, and everything comes flooding back. All the beautiful memories and all the mistakes you wish you could take back, and there were a lot of mistakes you wished you could take back with Tyler. You’d never loved anyone the way you loved him, and you didn’t think you ever would. Seeing him again had reminded you of that. 

Letting out a sad sigh, you sat down on your bed. Then there was Tyler’s invitation and disappointment. You hated disappointing him almost as much as you hated disappointing yourself. It had taken several years of therapy and hard work to not be so scared of ending up with the same fate as your father. You had grown though. You had learned about yourself and the things that caused those reactions. While getting close to a tornado was definitely dangerous, you knew that Tyler would take care of you. You also knew that you didn’t want to miss out on any more experiences in your life because you were afraid. 

You stood up, not allowing yourself another moment to try and talk yourself out of it, and left your room, knocking at the one three doors down. 

Tyler answered, clad in his white t-shirt and jeans, and smiled when he realized it was you. “Hey, what’s up?” 

Good lord was there ever a moment when this man didn’t look incredible? You swallowed, then nodded. “I changed my mind.” 

He leaned against the doorway, eyebrows raised in confusion. “About what?” 

You took a deep breath. “I wanna go on a chase.”

Tyler beamed. 

————————

It took three days for a storm to come through that Tyler felt good about. They had done some chasing in that time, but Tyler hadn’t brought you along because he said they hadn’t been the “right one”. The wait made you anxious, but you trusted Tyler’s instincts, and every night they were back at the motel ready to tell you about their day. You thought that they might eventually get bored of all your questions, but they were not only great, but amazing storytellers as well. You could see why their YouTube channel was so popular. 

Not that you spent a whole day watching it while they were gone or anything. 

Finally though, the day arrived and you found yourself standing outside by Tyler’s truck waiting for the team to join you, your heart pumping a little faster than normal. “Morning!” A voice called, pulling your attention away from inspecting Tyler’s truck again, and you saw the man in question heading towards you with a paper sack in one hand and an iced coffee in the other. “Haven’t talked yourself out of this yet?” 

You shook your head. “Nope. I’m doing this.” You smiled as Tyler handed you the coffee and bag. “Did you seriously get-?”

“Your breakfast sandwich and coffee? Yes, you need fuel for the road.” Tyler used his now free hands to open the door for you. “Hop on in, and let’s get going.” 

“Wait,” you said, glancing around. “Is everyone else meeting us there?” 

Tyler leaned against the door, and you watched as he looked at the sky behind you, then turned his gaze back to you. “Nah, I gave them the day off. I didn’t want you to have to deal with pressure from them if we get there and you decide not to do this.” 

You bit your lip. He was always so thoughtful. Back when he knew you, he would have had to drag you to this truck kicking and screaming, which he never would, and the fact that he wanted to save you some embarrassment in case you decided not to do this was just like him. Unable to help yourself, you reached out and gave his hand a squeeze. “Thank you.” You said sincerely. 

“Well,” you inhaled sharply as Tyler took a little step closer to you. “I’ve got to admit, getting you alone for the day also played a factor.” 

Your eyes widened and a shy smile formed on your face even while your mind was spinning. Over the past few days there had been brief moments where you thought Tyler might have been flirting with you, but you talked yourself out of it. Now though . . . Was there actually a chance this man still wanted you? He couldn’t. Not after how you had treated him. It didn’t make sense. “You might end up regretting that, you know?” You told him. 

Tyler reached up, and your whole body froze as he brushed some hair behind your ear. “I’ve never regretted a moment I’ve been with you.” 

His response took the breath from your lungs. “Ty . . .” You didn’t know what to say. Your heart was beating so fast it hurt. How could he possibly not regret that night? The night that you broke his heart? 

“I’ve missed you calling me that, you know?” He smiled at you, and then took a step back. “Come on, let’s get going.” 

Once again, you wanted to say something, but what? Nothing sounded right in your mind. So instead you hopped up in the truck and watched as he closed the door behind you. 

————————

“Can I be honest?” You asked him several hours later. 

“I didn’t realize you ever weren’t.” Tyler joked, sending you a smirk. 

You swatted at him playfully. “I didn’t expect all the waiting. What happens if nothing comes?” 

“Oh, something’s gonna happen.” He insisted, looking at some clouds in the distance. “Don’t you have any faith in me?” 

While he was kidding, you didn’t stop the serious words that slipped past your lips. “You know I have all the faith in the world in you.” 

Ty’s smile turned from something joking to something genuine. “Even after all these years?” 

You smiled at him. “It never stopped. I always knew you were destined for great things.” You admitted, and it was the truth. In fact, you’d never been more sure of anything in your life. 

“Just not riding on the back of a bull.” He replied, and though he winked at you, the mention of one of the reasons from your breakup filled the air with tension. 

Then the question that you had been dying to ask since you first saw him burst from your lips. “Why did you quit?” 

Tyler looked at you then, and you knew that look well. He was reading your expression, your eyes, your body language. He’d always been able to tell what you were thinking simply by looking at you, and this time was no different. “It wasn’t because of you.” He said, reaching over to place his hand on top of yours and giving it a gentle squeeze. “I mean, you were part of the reason, but it was more about me realizing you were right, and I could do more with my life.” 

He knew you had been carrying that guilt of wondering if you were the reason he quit something that he had loved so much. He told you that you weren’t, but you still frowned, looking out at the darkening sky miles away. “I wish I’d said it differently.” 

There was silence for a moment as you two watched the storm, but it wasn’t uncomfortable. It felt more reflective, and your thoughts were only confirmed when he spoke up. “Do you ever wonder where we’d be now? If you’d stayed?” 

If only he knew . . . “I guess that depends.” You bumped your shoulder against his. “Would you have proposed by now?” You teased, but a part of you wanted to know the answer. 

Tyler grinned at you, an adoring look on his face. “Oh definitely.” 

A flush heated up your face as a pleased smile fell on your lips. “Then I guess we’d be married and driving each other crazy.” 

“Not to mention being driven crazy by the kids.” Tyler added. 

You let out a laugh. “After ten years, you still want three kids?” 

“Three is a good number.” He defended. 

You rolled your eyes. “You know I have this friend now. She just had her fourth. Going over to her house almost makes me not want any at all.” 

“That’s because she has four. Three, perfect number.” Tyler said, holding up three fingers. “Four?” He added a finger. “Now that’s just asking for trouble.” 

“Especially if they were your kids.” You added, grinning over at him. 

“Ah, we could handle them.” Tyler said with a wink in your direction. 

A vision formed in your mind of what he was describing. Three kids, all of varying ages, but in your mind it was two boys and one girl. The boys would be almost an exact copy of Tyler, blonde hair and blue-green eyes, dimples and charming smiles. Troublemakers, but also sweethearts who cared deeply and loved life to the fullest. Then the little girl. She definitely had a majority of your features but with Tyler’s smile. She would have Tyler so wrapped around her finger it would almost be embarrassing. Then there’d be Tyler and you, watching all the craziness unfold from your back porch with a glass of sweet tea in your hands. You were happy. You were loved, and you were home. 

At that moment, you realized you never wanted anything so badly in your life. You wanted it so badly your chest literally ached with it. Looking over at Tyler made it hurt worse. You thought being away from him would make the love you had fade, but it turned out, the opposite had occurred. In fact, seeing him watch the sky with a content smile and talking about what could have been made you realize you loved him more now. You had loved him in high school, you’d loved him in his early twenties, but this was different. You were different and so was he. 

The question was . . . Would he take you back if you tried? You knew you didn’t deserve it. You were the reason the two of you broke up. If you were in his shoes, you didn’t think you could forgive yourself. Tyler had always been a better person than you though. 

Was it worth a shot trying? 

“Hey,” Tyler pulled you out of your thoughts, lifting your hand and pointing it to something in the distance. “Do you see those clouds?” 

You looked out to where he was pointing your hand and frowned. Those definitely looked dark, and they were . . . “Are those spinning?” 

“That’s the updraft, and it’s cycling.” He told you. 

“And that means . . .”

“That means-” Tyler stood up, put his baseball cap back on his head, and held out his hand to help you off the bed of his truck. “We’ve got a winner.” 

————————

You were going to throw up. At least it felt like you were. Not five minutes after you guys reached the storm did a tornado touchdown. Tyler said it was rated for an EF1, so it would be safe to drive into. Well, as safe as driving into a tornado could be. As fast as your heart was pounding, and as sick as you felt you might be, you leaned forward to get a better look out the window. You couldn’t deny the beauty in it. “I’ve never seen something so amazing and scary at the same time.” You admitted. 

“It’s incredible isn’t it?” 

As nervous as you were, the look on Tyler’s face made you smile. God you hadn’t seen him this excited since he had been on the back of a bull. “It is. Especially when it doesn’t look like it’s going to kill me.” 

Tyler laughed, and he pulled to a stop. “Nah, this is just an EF 1. This and the truck are going to keep you completely safe.” Tyler said, reaching to tug at the harness he had secured so tightly to your body that you felt like you couldn’t take a deep breath. 

As you watched the tornado race forward, you felt your heart rate start to kick back up and took a deep breath. “And you too right?” You asked, biting your bottom lip. 

He parked the truck and faced you, a rare serious expression crossing his face. “You know I wouldn’t let anything happen to you.” 

At that moment, you realized you did. Tyler would never willingly put you in danger. He cared about you too much. If he said it was safe, it was. “I do.” You agreed, taking a deep breath, well, as much as you could in this harness. “Let’s do this.” 

The grin came back to his face full force as he started pressing buttons on his truck, anchoring it down into the ground as the tornado got closer and closer. “You’re gonna love this.” 

”Oh my god, oh my god, oh my god.” Even though you knew you were safe, there was nothing quite like a tornado heading straight towards you while you’re stuck in place. “Tyler . . . This is crazy.” 

It was getting closer and closer. Only yards away, and your heart was pounding harder and harder in your chest. You didn’t even think. Your hand reached for his, gripping it tightly as the tornado hit the truck. 

Tyler gave your hand a reassuring squeeze, “look up.” He called over the wind, and you did as he asked, leaning towards your side of the car to see out the window. 

It was the most incredible thing you’d ever seen. You could see all the way up the funnel to the clouds above as the vortex passed over you. You’d never seen anything like it in your life, and a laugh of disbelief left your lips as you watched it pass over you. When it was done you looked over at Tyler, shock all over your face. “Was that real? Did that actually just happen? Did I just see inside a damn tornado?!” 

Letting out a chuckle at your questions, Tyler nodded. “You sure as hell did.” 

You let out another laugh yourself and started unbuckling all of your straps. You needed one last look to convince yourself that you had done it. Once you were free, you hopped out of the truck, running around the back to watch it keep going through the field behind you. You heard the truck door close again, but you didn’t turn around, still mesmerized, until you felt Tyler’s hand on your shoulder. 

“So, how do you feel?” He asked. 

His question was loaded for so many reasons. Years ago, he never would have gotten you close enough to even see a tornado, much less let it speed over you. You were so proud of yourself for doing this, but also sad. How many other life experiences had you missed because of how your father’s life choices had traumatized you? There was no good way to answer his question, so you just did what you wanted to. You jumped up, latching your arms around his neck, and your legs around his waist. 

Of course he caught you easily, laughing as he spun you around and held you close. One of his hands rested on your back, while the other cradled your head against his shoulder. After a moment, he let out a content sigh. “I’m so proud of you.” 

You clutched tighter to him. He had no idea how much those words meant coming from him. Tyler had seen you at your absolute worst, when you had no one but him. You had clung to him then, leaning on him more than was healthy until you knew that you couldn’t anymore. It made you want to cry, knowing how far you had come and that Tyler could see it. You pulled back to look at him so he could see your watery smile too. “I’m proud of myself.” 

The butterflies in your stomach were doing somersaults as he looked at you. His fingers tightened in your hair, and you felt his arm muscles tense against your back. There was tension in the air, no doubt about it, and you found your eyes drawn to those familiar soft lips. You wanted to kiss him. A part of you wondered if it would be the same, or even better because you both were older. You weren’t sure, but either way, you wanted to find out. When you saw his eyes glance at your lips too, you knew he was thinking the same thing. Unable to help yourself, you let your fingers tangle in his hair, pulling yourself the slightest bit closer to him until your noses were brushing. 

Then his phone rang. 

Whatever spell the two of you had been under broke. Tyler slowly let you down to the ground, but reached for your hand, tangling your fingers with his and keeping you close. “Hey, Boone, what’s up?” 

You glanced down at your hands with a soft smile. Tyler’s hands were big and calloused from work and bulls, but they felt nice. You brushed your thumb on the outside of his palm, and he gave your hand a squeeze. 

“Yeah, we got one. She handled it like a pro.” Tyler told him, grinning over at you. There was a bit of silence for a moment as the phone conversation continued. “Let me ask her, and I’ll let you know? All right, sounds good. I’ll see you soon.” He hung up the phone and tugged you a little closer again. “Feel like celebrating seeing inside your first tornado?” Tyler asked. 

————————

Three hours later you found yourself in new clothes, freshly showered, line dancing between Dani and Boone. You were almost crying from laughing so hard, and your face hurt from smiling so much. It blew your mind that two weeks ago you were sitting in your apartment in South Carolina feeling alone and stuck with writer's block. Now you were back in your hometown, having a blast, writing faster than you had in years, and desperate to get back together with the man who was watching you from the booth, an adorable smile on his face. Feeling a little bold after your almost kiss, you sent him a wink as Boone spun you around, causing his smile to widen. 

“You guys are disgustingly cute.” Dani said as the song slowed down and the three of you started to exit the floor. 

Heat rushed to your face, and you found yourself asking the question you’d been wanting to ask for days. “Why have you guys been so nice to me anyway? Tyler’s your best friend, and I’m his ex. I broke his heart, but you’ve been nothing but kind to me since the start.” 

Boone and Dani exchanged a look. “Yeah, you’re right. If it had been another one of Tyler’s exes we probably would hate you.” Boone said, shrugging his shoulders. 

“But you were the one who got away for Tyler, and he’s never said anything but great things about you. Plus,” Dani reached out and patted your shoulder. “It's kinda obvious the two of you are still in love with each other.” 

The words hit you like a truck, and then you felt stupid for not realizing it before. You looked at the man sitting at the booth again. This time he was talking to Dexter, his expression animated, and his hands moving wildly with his words. Of course you still loved him. You never stopped. You buried it, hid from it so you could try to better yourself. When you left, you knew you weren’t good enough for him, you probably still weren’t, but now you knew you could love him like you were supposed to. If he was open to it. Boone and Dani made it seem like he was. He had given you signs that he was at least interested . . . The only question was how could you show him that you wanted it too? 

An idea hit, and a small smile formed on your face. “I’ll catch up with you guys in a minute okay?” You said to their confused faces and headed to the DJ stand. You gave him twenty bucks, which he gladly took, and promised your song would be next. By the time you’d made it back to the booth where everyone was seated, Never Leave by Bailey Zimmerman was playing. 

You approached Tyler, who was looking at you curiously as you held your hand out to him. “Dance with me?” You said, biting your bottom lip. 

A surprised, but happy smile formed on his face. “Yes ma’am.” 

It was not your and Tyler’s first dance. Probably wasn’t even your hundredth, and dancing with him was as effortless as remembering how to ride a bike. One of his hands rested on the small of your back while the other took yours. You placed your hand on his bicep, giving his arm a squeeze. You didn’t want to say anything. The lyrics of the song could do all the talking for you. Tyler led you around the floor with ease, and as the song went on, you could see the moment the words started to sink in. He leaned forward, his forehead pressing against yours,  and he whispered your name so reverently it made you close your eyes.

“Just listen,” you said softly, tightening your grip on his hand, letting the song say the words you wanted to. Tyler’s arm pulled you even closer until it was almost hard to dance, your bodies pressed against each other. Your heart was pounding so hard you were sure he could feel it against his chest, but you didn’t care anymore. You were laying it all out there now. 

As the song ended, you felt Tyler’s lips against your forehead, soft and lingering. Warmth exploded throughout your body, and you pulled back to look up at him. 

“Come back to the hotel with me?” You asked, your thumb caressing his arm, almost pleading with your voice. 

Tyler’s hand reached up to cup your cheek, and you immediately leaned into his touch, your whole body craving it. “Are you sure?” He asked. 

You nodded. There was nothing you were more sure about right now.

He took a step back from you, grabbing your hand and tugging you back to the booth where everybody else was sitting with knowing eyes. He told them that the two of you were leaving. You tried to ignore them, but you couldn’t help but grin when you saw them giving you a thumbs up or silently cheering as Tyler had his back turned. 

The ride was quiet, but it wasn’t uncomfortable, it was more filled with tension, and the two of you kept glancing at each other and smiling. He never let go of your hand either until he parked at the motel and came around to open your door. Before you could get down though, he stopped you. “This is what you want right? I don’t want to misinterpret what I think is happening here or pressure you in any way-”

You placed your hands on his face and leaned closer, interrupting him with your first kiss in ten years. 

For a moment, he didn’t respond. It was clear you had surprised him, but then his hands gripped your hips, and he was kissing you back. 

It was even better than you remembered. It had been good back in late high school and your early twenties, there was no doubt about it. Something about now was different though. Maybe it was because you were older, maybe it was because it had been so long, or maybe it was because you felt healed. Whatever it was, kissing Tyler now blew every kiss you’d had before out of the water. 

It was a short kiss, chaste, just to reassure him that you did want him, but when you pulled away the two of you were still breathless. “Am I crazy or was that incredible?” You asked, your hands sliding down his face to his chest. 

Tyler laughed, but nodded, his own hands dragging down your thighs and resting on your knees. “It was,” he replied, but then a smirk fell on his lips, “but we can do better.” 

Not one minute later, you were trying to open the door to your room, Tyler’s large hand low on your stomach as his lips left soft kisses on your neck from behind. You could barely concentrate as heat pooled where his hand rested, and you could not get the key in the door as he kissed a certain spot on your neck. “Ty,” you said through an exasperated laugh. “If you keep doing that I’ll never get us in this room.”

He took the key from your hand, but didn’t stop kissing your neck. You closed your eyes in pleasure as he did, letting him take over the door situation, and in a frustratingly short amount of time, you heard the door knob turn. Your eyes snapped open, turning in Tyler’s arms to find him smirking at you again. 

“How the hell did you do that so easily?” You asked, weaving your arms around his neck as he carefully backed you into the room. 

He shrugged, shutting the door behind him. “Guess you were just too distracted to focus.” 

You playfully glared at him, “I was not-” but you let out a gasp as he suddenly spun you around, pinning you to the door with his body. 

He didn’t say anything for a moment, just smiling at you as his hands rested on your hips, his thumbs brushing under your shirt to touch heated skin. “You were, but it’s okay. I liked it.” 

Well he had certainly become more confident in the years apart. Not that he ever wasn’t, but you could definitely tell a difference. However, you had gained a little bit of confidence too, and you smirked at him. “Oh, I can tell.” You replied, pushing your hips forward to press against the hardness you felt. 

Tyler bit his lip at your movements, his hands gripping your hips harder. “We don’t have to do anything. I want you to know that.” 

It drove you crazy, how he could go from being sexy and confident to sweet and respectful within a minute. You slid your arms up his chest and around his neck, tugging his head down to yours. “I want to.” You told him. “Do you?”

He let out a breathless chuckle, “You have no idea how badly I want to.” Tyler said, “I’ve wanted to since the moment I saw you at that gas station.” He told you, his nose brushing against yours. 

Tyler had been wanting to get together with you for that long? Your heart started thumping wildly in your chest, and you let out a sigh as his warm hand slipped up the back of your shirt pressing you against him. “You know, I don’t look the same as I did ten years ago.” You admitted, a little bit of insecurity leaking out as you thought about the last time the two of you were together. 

He shook his head, and his hands left a trail of heat as they slid down your back to grip your thighs. “You look better.” 

Your hands slipped into his soft hair. “Now, I know that’s not true.” 

You let out a nose of surprise as Tyler used his grip on your thighs to lift you into the air with his body, smirking up at you. “I think you’re forgetting . . .” His lips found a spot on your neck that he had always kissed, a spot that made chills explode over your body and made a soft moan leave your lips. “I know this body better than anyone.” He whispered in your ear. 

Tyler was right. He had been with you more than anyone else, seen every part of you bare. So what if you didn’t look the same as you did in high school. You were sure he didn’t either. Based on what you felt against your body though, you didn’t think that was a bad thing. You let your hands trail from his hair down his neck and to his chest, noting how his body flexed under your touch. “I think I might need a refresher on yours.” You teased, biting your lip as you played with the buttons on his shirt. 

He raised his eyebrows, a smirk on his lips. “Oh, is that what you need?” 

With fingers that were much steadier than what you felt, you unbuttoned a couple of the top buttons from his shirt. It wasn’t much, but enough to slip your hands into and touch his heated skin. It was the first time you had touched him, really touched him, in so long, and it made you ache for so much more. You pressed your forehead against his, “Right now I need everything you’re willing to give me.” You admitted honestly. 

“Well then,” Tyler’s hands slid down to your ass, holding you close as he started carrying you to the bed. “It’s a good thing I’m willing to give you everything.” He said as he placed you gently on the bed. 

His words made your heart stop for a second and a huge swell of affection for him filled your heart. You wanted to tell him that you still loved him then. That you wanted to give him everything too. The words wouldn’t come though. Not yet anyway. 

So instead, you tried to say them with a kiss. You sat up, grabbing his face in your hands, and tugged him down to meet your lips. The first time you had surprised him, and it took him a moment to respond. That was not the case this time. He kissed you back at once, moving your lips in a dance the two of you knew well. While the first kiss had been sweet, this one was full of passion and tenderness. You let out a little sigh when his lips parted and attempted to pull him closer. It had been so long since you had gotten to really touch him, and you didn’t want to waste another second not doing it. 

He complied, climbing into the bed on top of you, settling between your thighs and letting out a strangled groan as you pushed your hips up into him. He pressed his own against yours and you let out your own moan at the delicious friction. 

The sound made him pull away however, and you frowned, since that was the opposite of what you wanted right now. You watched him as he sat up, his gaze traveling over your body with such intensity you could feel your face heating up. Tyler’s hands rested on your stomach finally, tugging up your tank top so slowly it made you want to just yank it off yourself so his hands could be all over you. Waiting turned out to be worth it though, because as soon as your shirt was off, he started kissing down your neck. Your eyes closed as his lips went lower, and you arched your chest against his mouth as he got closer to one of the spots you wanted his mouth the most. 

“Have you been with other guys?” 

That made your eyes snap open. Those were not the words you expected to come out of his mouth when he was about two seconds away from putting his mouth around you. “W-What?” You said breathlessly. 

But he didn’t seem upset or anything, just genuinely curious. In fact he was grinning at you, his hands resting on your bare hips. “It’s been ten years. You have, right?” 

“Is now really the time for the, ‘how many people have you slept with since me?’ conversation?” You asked, raising your eyebrows at him. 

Tyler leaned down, pressing his lower body against yours again as his lips hovered over yours. “I don’t care about the number.” He said, shaking his head. “I just want you to know I’m about to kiss the memory of anyone else from your body.” 

His words took your breath from your lungs, but you tried not to let him see how much they affected you. Your arms slipped around his neck, fingers sliding into his hair. “You’re talking a lot of game for someone who hasn’t initiated a single kiss.” You teased. 

He chuckled,close enough that his lips brushed yours for the briefest moment. “Isn’t it better if you have to wait for it?” 

A soft smile fell on your face then as you ran your fingers through his hair. “Ty, you haven’t kissed me in ten years. Haven’t we waited long enough?” 

He leaned back so he could look at your face, smiling at the look you were giving him. “Yeah. I think we have.” 

Finally, he leaned forward and kissed you, setting your whole body on fire with the intensity of it. Your lips parted almost immediately, and his tongue slipped into your mouth, exploring you thoroughly. His hands did the same, heat trailing after them everywhere he touched. 

You knew then, as the two of you kissed and your body, and heart, felt close to combustion, that this was it for you. You had been with other men in your time apart, and none of them had ever come close to making you feel like this. Back when you and Tyler had first started dating, you thought he might have been the one, but now you were sure. So no matter what happened tomorrow, or even after that, you knew that Tyler Owens was going to be it for you. 

To your shock and surprise, you didn’t find that scary at all. 

A breathless sigh left your lips as he slowly pulled away, and he smiled down at you, brushing some hair out of your face. “God you’re beautiful.” 

You had always remembered what he was like in bed, how sweet he could be, but hearing it again was a different story. He had always made you feel so comfortable and sexy, you were so glad to know that none of that had changed. “I missed you.” You blurted out, heat rushing to your face at the confession. 

But his smile just widened, leaning down to press a kiss against your jaw. “You’ve got no idea . . .” He started kissing down your neck again. “How much I’ve missed you,” he said, and you couldn’t help but squirm a little as he kissed down your stomach, your breath coming a little faster as his kisses got lower and lower. Your hands tangled into his hair, biting your bottom lip and arching up into his hand as he started unbuttoning your jeans. 

You lifted your hips as he slid your jeans and underwear down the rest of your body, casting them aside somewhere in the room. You didn’t really care where. Tyler kissed back up your body, pausing for a moment on your bra, the last article of clothing you were wearing. After giving him an encouraging nod, he unclasped it, tossing it somewhere too, leaving you completely naked. 

He stared at you, and you felt heat following everywhere his gaze went. His gaze didn’t make you uncomfortable though, it made you feel . . . Desirable. While his eyes looked you over, your eyes watched his face, biting your lip as your hands slid up and down his arms. “You know you’re wearing too many clothes.” 

Tyler grinned down at you. “You wanna help with that?” 

You sat up then, returning his smile. “I would love to.” You took your time, slowly unbuttoning his shirt and taking in every bit of skin that was revealed. Tyler had been fit when the two of you were dating, but now? He looked like he’d come straight out of a magazine. Once his shirt was unbuttoned, you let your hands trail down his chest as you leaned forward to press a kiss to his neck. You felt his whole body relax as your hands slid back up his hard muscles to push his shirt off him, and you trailed your lips across his shoulder and down his arm. 

As soon as his shirt was off him, you made your way back up his arm, pressing gentle kisses every few inches until you reached his face again. He was smiling at you, and you couldn’t help but press a peck against his lips, then another until he had his arms wrapped tightly around you, holding you against his warm chest. Letting out a sigh, you kept your forehead against his for a second, soaking the moment in. 

“I never thought we’d be here again.” Tyler said, shaking his head as his hand dragged up and down your bare back. 

“Me either.” You admitted, letting one of your hands comb through his soft blonde hair, “but I’m glad we are.” 

Tyler didn’t say anything, but leaned forward to meet you in a kiss that said everything he needed to. It told you how much he missed you, the familiarity of his lips moving in rhythm with yours. It told you how badly he wanted you when his tongue slipped into your mouth to caress your own. Then his lips weren’t the only thing showing how much he cared as he gently laid you down on the bed, never letting your lips disconnect. 

It was illogical, but you hoped his lips never left you again. You were drowning, no, floating in him, submerged but safe in the warmth of him as his body laid on top of yours. Your legs automatically wrapped around his hips, and a moan left your lips as the two of you came into contact. 

Tyler pulled away then, but he didn’t go far, leaving kisses down your chin and neck. “You keep making noises like that, and this is not going to last as long as I want it to.” 

You let out a breathless laugh, tugging at his hair. “The noises are your fault, Owens. You’re the one with no-” you let out a gasp as his lips found your breast, pleasure burning straight to your core. “-Self control.” You panted. 

He gave your nipple a gentle bite, causing you to whimper, before he pulled away to look up at you. “Sorry, what was that about self control?” Tyler asked with a smirk playing on his lips. 

“That you have none.” You said, arching your hips up to rub against him for a moment, making him groan against your skin. “But I don’t think I have any either when it comes to you.” 

His smirk turned into a smile, and his lips found your breast again, immediately shooting even more pleasure through your body. 

Nobody really talks about what it’s like to have sex with someone you used to date years ago. Tyler knew your body so well, he knew exactly how you liked to be touched, and what spots would drive you crazy. It was so easy to fall back into it. On top of that though, the two of you had been with other people in the last few years, and you had more experience and confidence than the kids you used to be.

There was no hesitation in Tyler’s hands as they explored your body, and none in yours as one dragged down his back and the other tangled in his hair, holding him against you. You let out another moan as his hand moved from your inner thigh and a finger slid inside of you. 

He let out another groan as he discovered how wet you were, and leaned up to press his forehead against yours as he added a second finger in. “Are you already ready for me, sweetheart?” 

You nodded, bumping your nose against his. “Do you have a condom? I wasn’t anticipating-”

“Having sex with your ex-boyfriend in a motel room?” Tyler grinned as he reached into the back pocket of the jeans you forget he was still wearing and pulled out his wallet, reaching in to take out a condom. “Guess it’s a good thing I’m always prepared.” He said with a smirk. 

You rolled your eyes playfully, but secretly you’d never been more thankful. If the two of you had to stop now to run out and buy condoms, you might’ve lost your mind. You slid your hands down his well defined chest, biting your lip at the muscles you felt there before stopping to rest on the belt of his jeans. “You’re still wearing too many clothes though.” You reminded him. 

“Weren’t you supposed to be helping me with that?” He asked, raising an eyebrow at you. 

Narrowing your eyes at him, you started undoing his belt. “It’s not my fault you distracted me with how hot you are.” 

He laughed, moving your hands out of the way to get his jeans off faster. “Why do you think I got your clothes off so fast? Can’t get distracted if they’re already off.” 

“Guess I’ll just have to remember that for next time.” You teased, sliding your hands back up his chest to rest on his shoulders. It was only when his body froze that you realized what you said. The two of you stared at each other, and you had no clue what to say about your implication of a next time. You didn’t even know if he’d want a next time . . . 

Tyler didn’t let the moment linger though. He shoved the rest of his clothes off and leaned down to kiss you, hard, and all consuming in a way that erased every thought from your head except how much you needed him. Your legs wrapped around his waist, and you let out a gasp as your hips came into contact. 

You had forgotten how big he was. 

Almost as if sensing your thoughts, he pulled away slowly from your lips, barely leaving a centimeter between them as his finger trailed up and down your slit for a moment. “You can take it. You’ve done it before.” He whispered, and then slipped three fingers inside of you. The sudden intrusion sent your nails digging into his shoulders and heat exploding across your body. “If you can take that, you can take me.” He assured you, pressing a soft kiss to your lips. 

He was going to ruin you. Part of you thought he already had, since every other time you’d had sex, he was always on your mind, but now you were sure of it. Nobody was ever going to get you more turned on than Tyler Owens. You nodded, because it seemed like he was waiting for an acknowledgment, and attempted to pull him closer with your legs when his fingers slid out of you. “It’s just - it’s been a while.” You admitted.

Tyler gave you a gentle smile. “For me too.” 

His words shocked you for a second, but then you realized they shouldn’t have. Tyler had never been a one night stand kinda guy. As confident as he was, even before the two of you had started dating, he’d only ever dated girls he felt a genuine connection with. The fact that he still felt that with you enough to want to do this had emotions clogging up your throat. You let your hands trail down his body again, taking the condom from his hand and slipping it on him, your gaze never leaving his face as you enjoyed the sight of his reaction to you touching him. “Then let’s not wait anymore.” You said, guiding him towards you. 

He didn’t need any more encouragement. He pressed forward, and you let out a sigh as he slipped inside of you, your head falling back against the pillow. It was a tight fit, there was no doubt, but he moved slowly, showing, once again, how well he knew your body. Any time you tensed up, he paused, though you could feel by how tense his muscles were how much he was holding back. “That’s right,” he would tell you when your breath started to come faster. “Remember how well you take me?” 

Oh God you did. He fit inside of you like no one else. Even years later he filled you up just enough to not be painful, but more than enough to be satisfying. Another gasp of air left your lips as he pushed more inside of you, and you could tell he was almost completely in. 

“You’re doing such a good job.” Tyler said, leaving another kiss against your skin. “Made just for me.” And while his voice was soft, it was also strained from effort. 

You opened your eyes as you felt him push forward again, and dug your nails into where they had rested on his shoulders once more as he pushed completely inside of you, letting out a sigh of pleasure as he did. 

There was nothing like this. Absolutely nothing. You moved your eyes from the ceiling to find him looking at you like you’d just hung each star in the sky for him alone. “Tell me what you’re thinking.” He said breathlessly. 

Did he really expect you to be able to think right now? You couldn’t think enough to have a filter if you opened your mouth, and you knew that was partially what he wanted. So you let the words slip from your lips. “I’m thinking about how no ones ever felt as good as you do.” He rewarded your words with a little thrust of his hips that had you gasping. “I’m thinking about how you’ve ruined me for anyone else.” Another thrust, this one harder, and you tightened your legs around him. “And I’m thinking about how much I missed you, Ty.” You said softly, letting out a whimper as his hand slid up to your breast, cupping it and letting his thumb caress your nipple. 

He didn’t say anything for a moment. Just watching as your hips jerked against his, desperate for the pleasure only he could provide, his eyes locked on your face as if he was committing it to memory. “Would you believe me if I told you I was thinking about all those things too?” 

You didn’t have to think about it. You nodded, moving your hands from his shoulders to tangle in his hair. “I know.” 

Tyler leaned down to meet your lips in a bruising kiss as he thrust inside of you, starting a slow and steady pace that continued to pick up speed with every passing minute until you couldn’t keep up the kiss any longer. Your head fell back against the pillows, and your eyes closed in pleasure as his warm, calloused hand traveled down your body to where the two of you met. “Eyes on me sweetheart.” He said, and pressed his thumb against your clit. 

“Fuck, Ty!” Your eyes snapped open and your chest arched into his, tugging on his hair at the overstimulating sensation. His hips stuttered for a moment as you felt yourself clench around him, but he kept up the movement of his thumb, tracing circles around it. The pleasure was almost too much. You could feel it building inside of you, desperate for release, and you clung tightly to him. “I can’t- I’m-” You couldn’t even get the words out, too overwhelmed with feelings. 

“It’s okay, you can let go.” He said, “I’ve got you.” He assured you, never ceasing his pace or his finger. 

His words triggered your release, almost as if you’d been waiting for permission and you moaned out his name as it washed over you. You clung to him like he was a liferaft, holding you in above water as you clenched around him. You heard him groan your name, saying how good you were, and within seconds you felt his body tense, falling over the edge with you. 

As the pleasure faded from your body to satisfaction, you didn’t want to let him go and groaned in discontent when he pulled back and out of you. He chuckled and leaned down to press a soft kiss to your forehead. “I’ll be right back.” 

You sighed, opening your eyes as you watched him head into the bathroom, unable to believe that you had just had sex with such an attractive man, even if he was your ex. He was more than an attractive man though, or just your ex. He was Tyler. The boy you gave your heart to ten years ago who never gave it back. A tender smile was on your lips as he came back to you with a damp washcloth and started gently cleaning you up. 

“You okay?” He asked, the hand that wasn’t cleaning you up resting on your thigh and rubbing the skin there. 

“I will be once you get back in bed.” You replied, and your smile widened at the pleased expression on his face. You let out a laugh as he tossed the washcloth aside and hurriedly climbed into bed, spooning you against his back. 

He nuzzled into your neck, leaving kisses against your skin as he made himself comfortable against you, and shivers exploded across your body as his hand rested on your stomach. “Comfortable?” Tyler asked, pressing another kiss to your cheek. 

Being in his arms again? Comfortable didn’t even begin to describe it. As cliche and embarrassing as it sounded, for the first time since you’d come to your hometown, you actually felt like you were home. “Perfect,” you replied, scooting back even more into him. 

And you meant it. 

————————

You woke up cold, but oh so satisfied. Part of you wondered if last night had been a dream, but you knew that your body couldn’t lie like that. You definitely had the post sex ache. You stretched your limbs out and rolled over, wanting to curl back into Tyler and maybe sleep for a few more hours, but you were met with nothing but sheets. 

Frowning, you opened your eyes, letting your fingers drag across the fabric. It was cool, so he’d been gone for a while. It was only when your eyes drifted up to the pillow did you notice the scrap of paper. 

Stay. 

It was written quickly, almost as if an afterthought, and you frowned at it. Did he really think that he had to ask? You got out of bed, and found a tshirt in the floor. Slipping on your underwear and the tshirt, you sat down at the small table and grabbed your laptop. You’d been writing like crazy lately on a new book, and you’d definitely woken up feeling inspired this morning. 

You weren’t sure how long you sat there typing. It was a great distraction from your thoughts, and when you got into the zone, it could be hours before you realized you hadn’t stood up from your chair. You weren’t so in the zone though that you didn’t hear the doorknob start to turn. 

Tyler entered, once again looking entirely too good in his dark brown button down, jeans and cowboy hat. He carried a familiar brown bag and cup of iced coffee in his hand and held a cautious smile as he looked at you. “Brought you some breakfast.” 

You held out your hands to take it from him, eagerly sipping at the iced coffee as he sat down at the seat across from you. “Thank you, I needed this.” You said, leaning back against your chair. He was watching you, that cautious look still on his face making you nervous. Was he regretting last night? Was he trying to figure out the polite way to tell you it had all been a mistake? 

“What are you thinking?” He asked, and the sudden question threw you off, you didn’t even have the chance to think about throwing up a filter. 

“I’m thinking that I hope you’re not regretting last night. I’m also thinking that you’re too far away.” You admitted, frowning at the distance between the two of you. 

His whole body seemed to relax at your words and the smile that you knew and loved fell back onto his face. He held out his hand to you, and without hesitation you took it, returning his smile as he tugged you out of your chair to sit sideways across his lap. You buried your face in his neck, letting out a contented sigh as he wrapped his arms around you, and held you close. “Better?” Tyler asked, one of his hands tracing up and down your outer thigh. 

You nodded, tightening your arms around him. “Much better.”

The two of you sat in silence for a few moments. You knew the conversation that needed to be had, but you had no clue how to even begin to start it. Should you blurt out how you feel? Should you ask him how he was feeling? Tyler beat you to the punch though with a statement that stopped your mind in its tracks. 

“I read your book.” 

Your body froze as your brain took a moment to process his words. Once they did, heat rushed to your face, and you pulled away to look at him. “How did you even-”

“Boone. He gave me a copy pretty much right after you showed up.” He said, and his hand gave your thigh a squeeze. “I noticed some . . . Similarities.” 

You bet he did. More than enough to be embarrassing. You bit your lip, knowing the question that he wanted to ask, and decided to go ahead and give him the option to ask it anyway. “What do you want to know?” You finally said. 

For a moment it wasn’t the new Tyler that you’d been getting to know over the past couple of weeks that was looking at you. The confident, caring, intelligent tornado wrangler. It was young Tyler, the bull rider who wanted nothing more than to ride his fears and bring you along for it. “I guess I’m just wondering why they got their happy ending, and we didn’t.” 

Just because you anticipated it, doesn’t mean it hurt any less. “Ty . . .” You placed your hand on top of his, gripping it in yours. “I wrote that book two years after our breakup. I wasn’t ready to be her then. There were . . .” You took a deep breath. “A lot of things I was still holding onto.” 

“But if I had quit when you asked me to-”

You were shaking your head before he could even finish his sentence. “I never should have asked you to do that.” You let go of his hand to take his face in your hands to encourage him to keep his eyes on you. “Tyler, our breakup had absolutely everything to do with me, and nothing to do with you.” This confession had been sitting on the tip of your tongue for years now, and you finally had the courage to say it. “I looked at you, riding those bulls, and all I could see was my dad. It scared me.” You admitted, caressing his cheek with your thumb. “Drunk, constantly concussed, and soon to be dead either from one or the other. I know that’s not you now, and I should’ve known it back then, but I was too damaged.” 

Tyler looked sad, his hand still caressing your skin. “I would have fought for you.” 

“I know.” You said, and you did. You knew that Tyler would have fought to stay by your side until the end if you hadn’t pushed him away. 

“You were everything to me back then.”

God it hurt. Remembering the look on his face when you had walked out that door. You still had nightmares about it, but like you had struggled to learn, there was nothing you could do about it now. The two of you sat there for a moment before you finally got the courage to ask the question you’d been wanting to. “What about now?” You asked. “Think we can make it?”

A small, disbelieving smile formed on his face. “Is that an option?” 

You nodded. “At least I hope it is. That ball’s in your court Tyler Owens. I’m the one that broke your heart.” You said, sliding a hand down to rest over his heart. “So . . . is that an option?” You asked, biting your lip as your heart started thumping heavily against your chest. God what if you’d just said all that and spent the best night of your life with him for Tyler to say it wasn’t worth the risk? That’d you’d done damage beyond repair? 

Tyler didn’t give you time for your thoughts to get any more out of control. “Oh, it’s definitely an option.” He said, and his bright smile had your heart fluttering. “In fact, I’d say it’s my preferred option.” 

You could barely believe it, even after last night. “You really want to give me a second chance?” You asked in disbelief. 

His smile turned soft, and his hand covered your own on his chest. “Sweetheart, I’d give you all the chances in the world.” 

And then, because you didn’t know what else to say, you leaned forward and kissed him. 

Once again, everything was the same, but somehow different. A better different.

[galaxy-fleur]

What did you think of Leon and Ada's new relationship in the remakes? Meta wise

I think it's an interesting and more nuanced take on their relationship! Which I definitely like. I see no point in judging OG RE2's love story between them, no matter how cliché and nonsensical it is. It's a product of its time, and it's charming in its own cheesy way. Teenage me cried over Ada's death in there, so I do have a soft spot for it.

But the Remakes offer a fresh interpretation of what happened between them, and I'm definitely interested to see where they will take their relationship in the future (that is if they do, because I wouldn't mind them just having separate story arcs from now on).

If we're talking actual analysis, I'll put down my thoughts. I don't know if you can call it a full-on analysis per se, as it's more just me writing out my personal interpretations on things. So keep that in mind please!

Long post under the cut. I'm talking almost 4k words and way too many shitty gifs (I have no time to make them all polished). I have way too much to say. I'll basically be going over their entire relationship throughout RE2R and RE4R so... yeah.

RE2R and RE4R are two games that offer a full story for Leon's character, and that's a very awesome thing that Capcom has done. I'd even say it's one of the best things they've done with RE recently. Making RE4R feel like a direct continuation to Leon's arc in RE2R makes total sense, and it makes many scenes in RE4R that much more satisfying to play through.

While RE2R does end on a somewhat positive note (much like every RE game has to), Leon's arc in it is very much negative. He loses more than he gains, he's unable to save anyone, and his good intentions end up being used against him. Claire ends her RE2R story by saving a little girl she has come to care for. Leon ends his RE2R story by losing the G-sample, 'losing' Ada without getting much, if any, closure from her, and not saving even a single person he has encountered. Claire and Sherry don't really count in Remake-verse (which I kinda don't like) because their storylines mostly happened separately from each other.

And that's not mentioning that he gets (assumedly, and I am very much hoping we'll finally see more concrete scenes of how it all happened in Remake-verse) pretty much kidnapped and forced into a life he never wanted right after. To say that Leon can't get a break in RE2R is like saying nothing at all. Poor guy gets put through the wringer on every level.

Now, onto his relationship with Ada, and how it ties into everything... It should be said that, while he obviously grows to care about her throughout their short time spent together, he remains suspicious of her. RE2R Leon is naive, but I often feel like people make him too naive. He's not an idiot. He tries over and over again to get answers from her, and he clearly feels apprehensive with her. And I mean... that makes sense. While she does save him multiple times, she keeps her distance from him.

I'd say he starts opening up to her on an emotional level after witnessing Robert having to kill off his own daughter. He directly confronts her, demanding for answers and voicing his drive to do what's right. In a way, that's him showing his vulnerability to her. And Ada uses it against him. After all, it's a perfect opportunity to play on his (rather naive) determination to be the hero to help her achieve her own goals. Ada is also the only figure of 'authority' he has at the moment. Even if her claim of being FBI seems kinda off, she's the only one he has.

And I'll go over Ada and how I interpret her later. For now, just keep in mind that her using Leon is more of a gray area than just some horrible, disgusting thing. I'm just going over the events from Leon's viewpoint here.

So, they team up. Ada starts softening up to him. They share light banter with each other: 'A: After you. L: Gee, thanks.' She expresses concern over his safety (the alligator scene). I'd say that's the point where he starts to care for her on a more personal level from before. As you would.

Him taking a bullet for her was instinctual. I'd say it's a more pivotal moment for Ada's character here rather than Leon's. In Leon's case it's moreso her taking care of him right after that matters. He directly mentions it to her later on (at least I'm pretty sure his 'you protected me' referred to that). I'd say him waking up to find himself tucked in with her coat and his wound taken care of was the moment his 'I care because it's another person who's in this with me' turned into 'I care because I feel genuine attachment to this person'.

Was it romantic? I'd say that's left for you to interpret how you wish. I like to think of it as him just caring for her as a person. Leon is someone who cares very deeply for others, and he's always striving to be the protector to those around him. I kind of think that someone caring for him when he's weak and vulnerable is something that is very meaningful to him. Now, Ada saves him multiple times at that point. But that's the first instance of her arguably going beyond what's needed. Sure, taking care of his wound was necessary, although she could have just let him be as he was for all we know. But tucking him in on top of that? Yeah, that's an obvious 'I care' gesture.

From then on, Leon is following Ada because he wants to trust her. And I do want to ring this home. He wants to trust her. Doesn't mean he does trust her. Because even though he shows genuine care for her, it's clear that he knows she's might not be telling him everything.

He wants her to trust him, so that she'll tell him what she is keeping from him. So that he can trust her.

The kiss scene is a perfect representation of exactly that, I'd say. Honestly, I'll just link this analysis right here, because I pretty much interpret it in almost the exact same way. But I'll go over it in my own words as well.

Leon's growing frustration is in full display here. He turns around from her, he paces, he tries to appeal to her. To just trust him enough to be honest with him. It's clear that he knows Ada might not be telling everything, but he chooses to believe her regardless.

Hence the exchange that follows this:

Ada: 'Hey Leon, trust me?'

Leon, walking up to her: 'Trust me?' (Reversing her question)

Ada: 'Honestly, if I didn't, you'd probably be dead.' (A genuine answer as far as we know, but it's not one Leon wanted to hear, so he shakes his head, mutters 'Right.' and walks off.)

And I do feel like Ada knows that Leon is suspicious of her here. Her reaction once he walks off comes off as kind of panicky to me. She knows she might be losing him, and she can't have that. So, she once again appeals to what she knows is his weak spot. His drive to help others and 'save' the city. It does work. Somewhat. But he's still swaying, so she does the first thing she thinks of. She kisses him.

She, quite literally, cuts off his line of thought so he stops thinking about it. Because him thinking is dangerous for what she's really doing here.

I think it would be very disingenuous to say that that was a kiss of love or affection. It is not presented as such, nor is it addressed that way in all. It was Ada's last attempt at stopping Leon from questioning her any further. How much of it was her focusing on her goals, and how much of it was her effort to 'protect' him from potentially figuring out the truth, is left to your interpretation. But whatever intentions she had, good or bad, it was a kiss of manipulation.

It does shut Leon up, as he's visibly stunned. He doesn't even say anything at that. He just stares at her, then at her hand on his knee. Now, here's the tricky part of it all. Do I think Leon felt romantic affection/attraction to her here? On some level, I'd say yes. But it's definitely no 'love at first kiss' or anything like that. He's confused, mostly. While he spent arguably little time with Ada, it was a time full of meaning. Surviving side by side and protecting one another is no small feat. And Ada did show her care for him.

I think, he chooses to trust her in that moment, because he, once again, wants to believe in her. Even if her kiss felt out of nowhere, and so much of what she says (or rather doesn't say) makes no sense. He chooses to trust her because he wants to think that she's a good person who cares for him.

And so, we come to the pivotal bridge scene once he learns the truth. I do like how he confronts her in a blatantly emotional manner rather than logical. It's not so much about her being a mercenary itself, as it is about her using him and lying to him. That's what he's actually confronting her about, whether he realizes it or not. That's exactly why he tells her to shoot him, fully resolute as he holds her gaze. He wouldn't do that if he was just trying to apprehend a criminal like a good cop would (as he tries to present it at first).

But, he never gets that closure or resolution he was aiming for. Ada lowers her pistol. He breaths out shakily, probably wanting to continue talking, to figure this out. But he doesn't get that.

I do think Ada telling him to take care of himself as her 'last words' is a very painful thing for him. Because it leaves him with no actual closure on what happened between them. Ada chose to not harm him, and her last words to him are ones of selflessness. But she also lied to him and used his vulnerabilities to achieve her goals. And it's not like Leon knows anything about her occupation, and just how much she's involved with it on an emotional level. Maybe she's someone forced to do this against her will. Or maybe she enjoys doing such dirty jobs for all he knows.

That's the thing. Leon doesn't know. And that must be both frustrating and painful. He's basically left questioning all of his interactions with her, how much of it was genuine, whether she was honest with him at all.

And, most importantly, his time with Ada basically proves to him that his drive to protect and save, his willingness to give people the benefit of the doubt - is a flaw, and a weakness. It directly ties into his arc in RE4R. (And his relationship with Krauser, in a way, but I won't go over it here.)

He throws away her bracelet on the train, and I think that kind of shows that he chooses to believe in the pessimistic way of interpreting their time together. He throws it away because he doesn't want to hold on to something that reminds him of her. And, simultaneously, of his mistakes.

Now, let's go through the same events from Ada's POV, shall we? It's a bit more challenging, since we don't get to be in her shoes, but it's still a fun exercise.

Ada's initial interactions with Leon are ones of annoyance. She basically scolds him like a kid for always getting in danger and acts like saving him is a chore. But chooses to help him out regardless. I think it speaks of her humanity despite her line of work. It's an interesting dichotomy that follows her every single appearance pretty much, though not much is done with it (thanks Capcom). But yeah, despite her visible annoyance with him, she saves him time and time again.

She doesn't visibly soften up to him up until that same Robert scene. She's pretty observant from what we can tell, and she probably already had a good idea of Leon's righteous nature, but it's the first instance of her actively playing into it instead of making small snide comments about it ('Trying to save the world?' 'Good luck with that.'). That doesn't mean she doesn't care, though. It's subtle, but the little sighs and changes in her facial expression do show that she's at least a little bit conflicted at the prospect of lying to him on such a huge level (though you can't see most of it with her sunglasses).

It's one thing to say a passing lie about you being an FBI agent, and it's completely another to play the long game by using someone like that. But she needs to accomplish this task, and it already proved to be more difficult than she expected. Remember, Racoon City was Ada's first time dealing with anything of this sort, too. She might be a mercenary, but it's not like she had to deal with zombies and B.O.W's before that. She's out of her depth, and she has someone pretty much offering themselves to her as her assistance.

So, she takes the risk.

While she does join in some passing banter with Leon after that, she still keeps her distance. She's dry and mostly unemotional in her mannerisms. Remember how I said that Leon taking the bullet for her was more pivotal to her in the story? Let's go over that.

It would be disingenuous to say that Ada is a complex character, unfortunately. Most of the complexity she does have, we pretty much have to add on to ourselves. Hell, I'm doing it right now with this entire section! Capcom is doing a way better job with her in the Remakes, but she's still pretty flat as a character. Maybe this'll (hopefully) change in future installments. But for now, we work with what we have.

Either way, we do know that Ada is someone who's self-sufficient and chooses to work alone. She keeps her distance from everyone, and she lives by 'everyone for themselves' ideology. Basically, a total opposite of Leon's 'protector' role. All that to say... someone taking a bullet for her is definitely not something she would expect. On some level, specifically because she would never do that herself. Especially for someone she basically just met. But Leon risks his life for her. Furthermore, telling her to go ahead instead of anything else.

I think that's the moment Ada starts caring for him on a personal level. Maybe she feels like she should repay him for this. Or that she owes him a debt. Regardless, she takes care of him and tucks him in, before proceeding further.

That care only grows once they reunite. Now she's the one injured, and he takes care of her, despite her protests: 'I can do it myself'. Ada is self-sufficient, but Leon offers her his companionship time and time again. We don't know whether that's something she lacks in her life or not. We don't know enough of her as a character to say that. But she's obviously someone who's not used to getting help from others. Again, on some level, because she doesn't do that herself.

Remember, while Ada did save Leon numerous times before, she always acted visibly frustrated by it, like it was a chore she was forced into, despite her choosing to help him herself. Leon, on the other hand, is quick to offer and insist on helping out, very much eager to do that for her. She already made the choice to use him, but now she learns that he's a genuinely good person with a kind heart, and not just some stupid naive rookie.

And so, the kiss scene, again. I already said that her kiss feels like a last-ditch effort to stop Leon from questioning her any further. And I do think she acted on impulse. Thus why she follows up with a hand on his knee and the: 'I'm counting on you'. And I, personally, think she kind of regretted doing that right after. Or maybe felt extra conflicted about the whole ordeal as a whole. The way she slouches and sighs heavily once Leon leaves is very reminiscent of that. It's kind of a mix of 'Fuck, I messed that up, didn't I?' and 'What the hell am I going to do after this?'

It also should be noted that Ada never meant to tell Leon the truth. It would be convenient for both of them. Leon would feel like he did something good, and she would complete her mission with no further issues. Both sides win. But... things go haywire. And she's confronted with the consequences of her initial choice to use him.

It'll be silly to say that Ada doesn't care for Leon. If she truly was this heartless mercenary some would like her to be, she would shoot him on the spot. Her pistol being empty doesn't really matter, either. Leon was basically offering himself up to her, again. Even without any bullets on her hands, she could have easily knocked him out or something.

But, she can't bring herself to hurt him. Because Leon really is a good person that doesn't deserve that. And she knows that, and she cares for him on a personal level on top of it all. We don't know what she was going to do, before Annette shot her. Maybe I'm actually talking out of ass here, and she really was planning on knocking Leon out cold. But, we'll never truly know.

And her last words for him are to take care of himself. Because, in a way, Ada, more than anyone, knows just how selfless Leon is. On some level, it's a wordless 'I'm sorry', if you wish to interpret it that way.

Boy, was that a lengthy mess! Their first introduction to each sure was tumultuous. But we still have RE4R to go through! Though it'll be more about Ada than Leon.

Nevertheless, let's talk about Leon's interactions with Ada. I think we all know he's noticeably harsher and colder to her. It's an interesting change, and it does show that he feels resentment towards her for what happened in Racoon City. We don't know how his initial conflicted feelings morphed into this resentment, but they did.

I don't think nearly enough people mention that he's genuinely being very damn rough with her in their little sparring session. While yeah, you could make an argument that he's holding back, he's not being careful either. Ada has to put in actual effort to fight him off, which she doesn't even succeed in because he takes her off-guard with his intensity.

And he also puts the sharp end of his dagger to her throat. Just to rub more salt into the wound.

I don't think this was him wanting to hurt her or threaten her, though. It was more of a show of strength. Ada approaches him by taunting him and teasing him, like she can do whatever she wants to him. But he's not that same naive rookie anymore. And he shows her exactly that.

A kind of: 'Don't think you can play the same trick on me twice, or you might get burned' message. A message that I think Ada does get.

As for him smirking at her, I don't think that's him being 'happy' to see her or anything. I think that's just him being amused that she still thinks she can play him like that. He grows all cold and distant with her right after.

Leon obviously has a grudge that he hasn't let go of. I actually like how he's almost needlessly petty with her in RE4R. Making snide remarks, calling her heartless and dismissing her on numerous occasions. It shows that he does care. If he didn't, he would cooperate with her with no further complaints on his part. He's purposefully being cold to her to show that yes, he is still upset about what happened, and he will use every opportunity to demonstrate exactly that. It's petty and kind of childish, in a way. But it makes sense for him, and it adds extra flavor to their relationship at this point in time.

Though, he does offer an opening to her in the boat.

'Have you changed, Ada? Or are you trying to use me again?'

It's a good parallel to his: 'Trust me?' In RE2R, and both phrases are used for a similar purpose.

He gives Ada an opening to trust him and be open with him. One that she doesn't take, again: 'What do you think?'

She gives him no answer. Just like she didn't in RE2R. I think, in a way, that kind of gives Leon an answer by itself. He trusts Ada and relies on her when push comes to shove, but he doesn't give her any more openings from then on. I'd say that's his 'I think we both know this is where we go our separate ways' moment.

With Ada, things are way more complicated, in a good way. Separate Ways gave us so much to work with, and that's amazing.

Throughout Separate Ways, we see Ada bouncing back-and-forth on what she wants to do. She's initially very cold and resolute in her job, helping Leon out more like a passing convenience than anything else. She does still help him, though. She's still dealing with the dichotomy of what she presents herself as, and what she actually acts as.

I really like her confrontation with Luis in particular. She's cutthroat and blunt. Almost chillingly so. And she only relents once Luis mentions her own infection. Him telling her of Leon's infection has little effect.

'And why does that matter to me?'

I think that's a question she's asking herself just as much as Luis here. Though, she's still in her cold, self-sufficient mercenary role here. To be honest, I find her relationship with Luis in particular much more interesting in RE4R, but since we're talking about her and Leon here, I'll just say that Luis is the catalyst to her change (so to speak, Ada doesn't really change as a character per se, I'll elaborate on that later). Not Leon.

She confronts Leon face-to-face, quickly being met with the truth that he is not as easy for her to push around now. And I do think she has zero bad intentions there. She was genuinely just playing around and teasing him. Only to figure out that that approach won't work at all. It's kinda cute, honestly. So, she gives him an opening of her own instead. She tells him to leave Ashley, to prioritize his own safety over hers. Because that's what she would have done in his place. Leon is quick to shut that down. Something that Ada probably expected, as she just huffs and gives a knowing 'Right.' to that.

That's the moment Ada knows Leon hasn't changed. Not really. He might be colder, more ruthless and dangerous, but he's still that same guy, wanting to protect others, no matter what. She knows she'll have no success in swaying him at that point. Hence why she tells him exactly that on the boat later.

The next pivotal scene, I'd say, is her watching Ashley wake up and learn of Luis' death. Ada mostly treats Ashley like a nuisance, something Leon has to protect. Because that's his job. But in that moment, she sees the genuine connection they share with each other. She sees that Leon cares. And not just because Ashley is an innocent person he has to save, but because it's Ashley.

Ada's arc throughout Separate Ways is not that connected to Leon, which is a good thing. Similarly to Leon concluding his story from RE2R by saving Ashley and proving to himself (first and foremost) that he can protect someone he cares about, and that his humanity is a strength, not a weakness, Ada learns to accept herself, too. She's visibly conflicted at the start of SW, but by the end of it, she knows what she has to do, and she made peace with that. Her hesitating before going against Wesker in the facility is one of the last moments of her hesitating with her intentions.

But, again, that scene is more about her and Luis. Luis is very important to Ada's character in SW, and I think that's neat.

While the scene itself is kinda awkward, her encountering Ashley during the final battle is another arguably important one. Her watching Leon and Ashley before that was about her witnessing Leon's care for her. Now she sees that Ashley fully reciprocates that care. They are on equal ground with each other.

And so, the final scene between them. I already said that Leon settled on his answer concerning Ada before that. But Ada makes one final opening to him. It's a selfish one. After all, what exactly would happen if Leon agreed to come with? Would they just leave Ashley to die and fly off into the sunset? On some level, I think Ada knows that what she's asking is unrealistic, especially for Leon. But I think it also speaks of her progression throughout Separate Ways. Ada learns to be more genuine with herself, even if it means being selfish or asking something that she knows will be rejected.

So, she shoots her shot one last time. Leon gives his answer. Ada is not surprised by it. But she is visibly upset by it. She knew it was coming, though.

So, they do exactly that. They go their separate ways. At least for now.

[corner-collects-rocks]

silly little idea: what if one day neil went back to baltimore?

things have been going… too well lately. Neil can’t believe it, he’s been captain of the Foxes for over a year now and he’s been making plans about the future with Andrew. The foxes have been on a hot streak and all the new members are really improving. Neil couldn’t be happier. None of the Moriyamas men or Uncle Stuarts men have been by recently to check in. Neil and Jean talk semi-regularly and it started out… rough. But it’s been getting better. It’s approaching 3 years since Nathan’s death, and not for the first time it hits Neil again. His father is really dead. There’s no ifs ands or buts about it, he’s gone. Neil saw it happen. It still doesn’t feel real.

So Neil buys a train ticket. He needs to see it again. Needs to be sure that his father’s men aren’t waiting for him to let his guard down to exact revenge his father can’t. Neils back in Baltimore and- why did he do this?? This was so stupid now his father’s men are really gonna come for him- Neil walks. Neil walks until he reaches Nathans house. The house he grew up in. The house where a large number of his scars come from. A house that was never a home. A house that served more pain than safety. A house th- a house with a for sale sign in the yard. Somehow Neil missed the cars in the driveway. There was an open house. People were looking to buy Nathan’s house. Neil took a breath, then went inside. He realized he didn’t quit fit in with the couples of newly weds and first time parents looking around, but he had to see it. Neil went upstairs first, to his old room. It looked completely different, the walls had been painted over and the bed frame was new. Neil didn’t mind. That room was never his. It was never somewhere safe to rest at night. It was never somewhere meant to keep the monsters out.

Neil went back downstairs. He knew he needed to go look at the basement. He didn’t come all this way to back out now. He took a deep breath to steel his nerves. The door swung open and Neil accidentally stumbled backwards into the newlyweds he saw when he first walked in.

“Sorry. I didn’t see-“

“It’s alright, you didn’t see it.” One of the women said. She seemed a couple years younger than her wife. Her hair was dyed pink with a blue strand. Her wife was in a blue dress, with a strand of pink in her hair.

“Hey we were just about to go down and look, do you mind if we come with you?” The woman with the blue dress asked. Neil considered it. He figured a tether to the present couldn’t hurt and nodded. He let the couple descend first down the staircase. He looked over his shoulder once at the kitchen before following them down.

Once Neil reached the bottom he looked for any remnants of Nathan’s final moments in the home. Bullet holes in the wall, slashes of his butchers knives in the wood. The entire staircase had been replaced, and if Neil looked closely, he could see remnants of spackle on some of the walls. Neil strode forward to the middle of the room and froze. Any trace of blood from his father, or Patrick DiMaccio or Lola. The basement was clean as if none of it had ever happened. Neil looked again to the walls, faint patches of wall painted over bullet sized spackle holes. He turned around and realized the newlyweds were staring at him oddly. Neil realized they were trying to connect the dots and by then he knew it was time to leave. Neil walked out and turned his phone back on. He hadn’t told anyone where he was going and he had a train to catch.

[jjonglemons]

Mr. CEO

Jongho / NSFW

You’ve been working at a new company as a Marketing Manager for nearly a year. It’s clear that Choi Jongho, the CEO, has taken a liking to you throughout your time there, and vice versa. Finally, your subtle flirtations with each other reach a boiling point.

WC: 2.8k

Warnings: smut, female reader, boss!employee, dirty talk, praise, bdsm, some fluff

Enjoy :)

✦•······················•✦•······················•✦

“Finally,” you exhaled, reaching the office building with three minutes to spare. Not that your boss, Choi Jongho, was very strict to begin with, but nonetheless, you always valued being punctual when it came to your job. Unbeknownst to you, the trains were operating on an alternative schedule due to maintenance, so naturally when you reached the station at 8 AM sharp as you always do, you began stressing when you saw the timetable. Thankfully, there weren’t any delays for once and you made it to work by the time it said you would. Today, you had a very important presentation that would be disastrous to miss.

“Good morning, Miss!” The secretary greeted you cheerfully.

“Good morning,” you nodded back, smiling kindly before making your way into your office.

For the first time, you were in a position where you weren’t stuck in a cubicle, tightly snuggled in an overcrowded space of a fire hazard quantity of colleagues. You inhaled, letting out a deep sigh and closing your eyes for a moment to ground yourself for the day. Suddenly, you heard a light shuffling of footsteps that stopped in your doorway. 

“Good morning, Y/N.” You opened your eyes to see a smirking Jongho leaning against the doorframe, “how was your weekend?”

“Not too bad. I spent most of it wining and dining by myself.” You winked playfully, leaning forward to rest your chin onto your intertwined fingers. “What about you?”

“You want the honest answer or a lie?”

“Whatever you want.”

“I was babysitting my brother’s kids,” he sighed, “I love them and all, but trying to get work done while a three and five year old are screaming at you to play with them isn’t ideal, to say the least.”

You chuckled at his annoyance. That’s something you’ve dealt with yourself, being an aunt to three little ones. “I get it. Well,” you continued, “I hope you can find some time to let loose this week. I’m sure it was stressful, and only more so that we have this huge meeting today.” You knew that wasn’t going to help him feel any better, but the blunt side of you spoke up before you even realised.

“Ugh,” Jongho groaned, extra dramatically for effect, “don’t remind me. I still have some last minute tasks I need to finish.”

“Then you better get to it,” you commanded, clapping your hands and shooing him away jokingly.

He shot one final smile in your direction before taking his leave. “Catch you later, Y/N.”

✦•······················•✦•······················•✦

“All those who vote no, raise your hand.” Jongho, said as the discussions from your presentation concluded.

You felt your throat drop into the pit of your stomach upon seeing eighty percent of the room raise their hands. You expected this. This new campaign idea of yours was a risk, but nonetheless, seeing it actually fail in front of you, despite all of the hard work you put into it, punched you in the gut. Hard.

“I think she had a lot of wonderful points,” Jongho added, “would some of you care to reconsider?”

The room stayed silent, no one seeming to change their minds. Your cheeks grew hotter as your embarrassment increased, unsure whether you wanted to scream at everyone for insulting your work or cry about being a failure. You gulped, sneaking a glance at Jongho beside you. His face was stoic. Of course being the CEO, he had to save face, but you couldn’t help but notice the concern in his eyes. You could tell he genuinely liked your idea and felt empathetic to this ordeal. But unfortunately, in order to keep democracy in the company, he couldn’t just ignore everyone else's opinions on the matter.

“Seriously?” He murmured, noticeably aggravated. No one seemed to hear or notice, though, other than you. He cleared his throat. “Okay,” he sighed, “then this idea is scratched. Todd, you will be presenting on Wednesday, okay? Everyone’s dismissed, thank you for your time.”

You stayed behind as everyone filed out, needing a minute to process your humiliation. You knew it wasn’t out of hostility, but it was hard not to take it personally, especially since this idea was one of the few you were really proud of. You truly hoped it would have been a game changer.

You were so lost in your thoughts that you hadn’t realised Jongho was still in the room with you. “I’m sorry,” he expressed, continuing to clean the whiteboard, “I know you put a lot of thought into this from the little bits you’ve shared with me throughout the month. I wish I could have done more.”

You smiled, some of your unpleasant feelings fading into a sense of affection towards your boss. He may be your authority, but he’s always treated you as an equal. As a friend, not just a colleague. You’d admitted to yourself already that you had a crush on him, but it would likely pose an issue if you were to attempt to pursue anything. Though, you weren’t stupid; you could tell the feelings were mutual. 

“It’s okay,” you sighed, “Honestly, I’m pissed. I wanted to tell everyone how much they sucked,” you laughed, “but obviously that wouldn't have helped anything. I really loved this idea.”

“I’m mad, too,” Jongho said, gritting his teeth slightly, “you’re the best marketer in this fucking company and I’m tired of people not noticing that. Or ignoring it, I don’t know. Whatever it is, you deserve so much better.” He was inches away from your face now, “If I wasn’t trying to be a good boss, I’d say “fuck it” to the votes and have your idea plastered everywhere immediately.”

Thankfully the meeting room was windowless- even the door was lacking a peephole- because if someone were to walk by at this very moment, the way you two were standing would raise suspicion. 

“That’s sweet of you,” you said softly, lightly biting your lip.

Jongho stared at you for a moment, watching your movements. He had a million thoughts running through his head. He was angry on your behalf, at how much the colleagues seemed to undervalue you. He was angry at himself for not doing more to help, but realistically, he knew he couldn’t do that without turning into an inconsiderate boss, and he never wanted to be one that didn’t listen to nor care about his employees. He kept thinking about how beautiful you are; how kind and attentive you’ve been towards him, and everyone, since you started working there. He couldn’t forget the fact that you always stood by his side when rumours about him would spread around the office, giving him the benefit of the doubt. 

Despite only knowing each other for just short of a year, you truly saw him. All of the times you’d peak into his office when you’d stay late, noticing the art doodles that decorated his notebook as you quietly said goodbye to him. Or the times he’d fallen asleep at his desk, so you’d carefully organize his folders into a nice pile just so he’d have less to think about when he’d wake up to go home. All of the little things that made him Choi Jongho as a person, not just a CEO.

Suddenly, it didn’t matter that he was your boss. All he wanted was to show you that he cared and was proud of you, even if no one else did. 

And that’s when he lost all sense of reason and forgot you were anyone but Y/N, his friend and the person he was surely falling in love with.

“Can I kiss you?” Jongho asked, his voice coming out as a gentle whisper.

You blinked a few times in shock, unsure whether you had misheard him or not.

“Sorry, that was uncalled for,” he added, scratching his head shyly as he stepped away from you. He blushed, darting his eyes towards the wall. 

“Yes,” you said, interrupting the train of self-deprecating thoughts that were beginning to form in his mind. “Please kiss me,” you finished, adding more confidence to your tone.

Jongho inhaled sharply with nervousness and excitement for a moment before his lips found yours. He cupped your chin to bring you deeper into the kiss, but he suddenly stopped and pulled back, leaving you confused.

“The door,” is all he said before rushing over to quickly lock it and return back to you.

You gripped at the lapels of his suit, pulling him closer so that your bodies closed the gap between the two of you. Your tongue found its way into his mouth rather quickly, earning a muffled moan from him. 

“Shhh,” you giggled between kisses, “you have to be quiet.”

“I know, I know,” he assured, gripping your hips so he could push up against your core, “will you be, though?” he teased. He trailed his fingers along your hips to reach the button of your trousers, tugging at it lightly.

“Is that a challenge?” You baited, biting down on his lower lip. He whimpered, causing you to erupt into a giggle again, “damn, seems like you’ve already lost.”

Jongho’s eyes became clouded with a lustful glare, your taunting pressing him in all of the best ways. He flipped you over, pushing you against the meeting table. He gripped your hair and pulled your head up so it was flesh with his chest, his head dropping beside your ear. You could feel the heat of his breath trickling down the side of your neck. “I don’t think so, love,” he smirked. 

He used his free hand to unbutton your trousers, moving his fingers closer to your sex painfully slow. You hissed, wriggling beneath his grip. “Don’t tease me, Jongho,” you scoffed, “I’m already mad, so don’t make it worse.”

While this fact was true, you both knew you were just using those words as an excuse to rowel each other up even more. He chuckled as he reached your dripping core, fingers sliding between your folds as he began to make circles on your clit with a slow, yet urgent pace.

“Fuck, Y/N,” Jongho breathed, “I knew you liked me, but I didn’t know it was this much.”

“Who said I liked you?” You hummed, fluttering your eyes shut.

“Ha,” he scoffed, pushing one finger into you, “you couldn’t lie about that even if you tried.” 

Your moans began to grow in volume as Jongho pressed the tip of his fingers against your g-spot, sending shivers through your entire body. He slowly entered with a second finger, being careful not to hurt you. He began to curl his fingers, feeling your arousal increase with each movement. “You’re doing so well for me, baby,” he hummed, watching the way you twitched beneath him. He used the weight of him and the resistance of the table to keep you steady, moving the hand that was gripping your hair to now cover your mouth. “As much as I want to hear those pretty little moans of yours, I don’t need either of us getting fired.”

“Aren’t you the one who fires people?” You managed to get out through the shifts of his hand from the movement of your bodies.

Jongho didn’t respond. He was too engrossed in the feeling of your wet pussy around his fingers. He pushed a finger into your mouth, earning a slight gag from you. You began to bite down and suck on it, causing him to hiss. He started to pump his fingers faster, placing his thumb on your clit for more stimulation.

“Fuck, Jongho,” you whined as quietly as you could, “I’m going to come too soon if you keep this up.”

“I want to see you unravel,” he paused briefly to turn you once again so you were facing him. He picked you up to sit you on top of the table, quickly pulling your trousers down to your ankles so he had full access. He kept his hands steady on your thighs, deciding to take a seat in one of the meeting chairs so his lips could meet your sex. He sucked on your clit, making sure to add a bit of teasing by playing with pressure and taking small breaks to tug at your lips. "You deserve this, baby," he moaned as he continued to taste you. 

You could feel your orgasm building up more and more by the second, but you didn’t want to cum without feeling him inside of you first. “Baby,” you moaned, “please fuck me. I want to cum with you in me.”

Jongho didn’t waste any time as he quickly stood up, pushed the chair away, and unbuckled his belt as he placed kisses on your nose and lips. You pushed his hands away from his throbbing member so you could give him some foreplay, too. You slowly moved your hands up and down his shaft, feathering the touch when it reached his tip.

“Shit,” he inhaled sharply, losing his balancing ever so slightly he had to grip the edges of table to keep him steady, “that feels so fucking good, love.”

You kept going as you slowly inched yourself towards him so your core was now hovering over his hard cock. He placed his hands onto your hips, lining himself up with your entrance.

“Can I?” He asked through heavy breaths.

You nodded, guiding him inside of you. You both let out a hum of release simultaneously, taking a moment to just savour how it felt to be connected in such an intimate way. 

“I never thought our first time together would be in a meeting room,” you joked, tugging on his arm so as to tell him he could start moving. He began thrusting into you steadily, sighs of pleasure dripping from his lips. “It’s fun, though,” you added, with a near ungodly tone as he reached the right spot at that same moment. Your mouth hung agape in pure bliss, your eyes alternating between absorbing his fucked out face and watching how he fucked you.

Your wetness engulfed his cock, Jongho choking on the moans he so desperately was trying to hold back. “I’m so proud of you, taking my cock like this.” He bit down on his lip, hard, hoping it would stop them from escaping. “Baby, I could do this every day,” he said, quickening his pace, “I could live inside this sweet pussy of yours.”

“It’s only yours, Jongho.”

Something about you willingly handing yourself over to him triggered the possessive, animalistic part of him, and he began to thrust into you deeper with one hand reaching up to grip your neck.

“Oh, fuck,” you screamed with a whisper, placing your hand over his on your neck to keep it right where you wanted it, “please, Jongho, more.”

“I might break this table if I do that,” he growled, squeezing your neck a little harder.

“Then just fuck me on the floor.”

Before you knew it, he had your legs thrown over his shoulders, back pressed against the carpeted floor. Who knew how many people had walked on it with their gross, outdoor shoes, but at that moment, you didn’t care. All you wanted was for Jongho to keep fucking you and make you cum for the remainder of the work day. 

“Baby, I’m going to cum soon,” Jongho said, pulling at your ankles to keep you as close to him as possible so he could keep pounding into you relentlessly, “Fuck, fuck, fuck,” he repeated over and over with each thrust. “Look at you, so perfectly fitting around me.”

A scream began to escape from your mouth, so you threw your forearm up to it to bite on for suppression. Your muffled whines and convulsions underneath of Jongho pushed him further to his climax, his eyes beginning to roll back as your body shook more aggressively. “Fuck, Y/N” he let out a loud grunt with one final, deep thrust, throwing his head back in pure bliss as he filled you up. This final thrust sent you over the edge, flailing beneath him. You screeched quietly, gripping his arm tightly as you spilled your juices down the sides of his cock. The two of you laid there for a moment, heavily breathing as you came down from your highs. 

You looked at each other, beginning to grin as you both reentered the present. You propped yourself up onto your shoulders, leaning up to kiss his cheek gently. He blushed, pulling you up so he could fall back onto his butt and have you seated in his lap. He wrapped his arms around you, nuzzling himself into your neck, peppering kisses along your shoulder.

“So,” you said after a few moments of quiet, “how are we going to explain this when we leave the room?”

[mysecretlittlelibrary]

idk if ur asks are open but PLEASE MORE LOGAN X READER X KURT

also... belly dancer reader if u want (why? because every chubby reader is either fetishized, insecure, or it has nothing to do w the plot/character)

if you want it to be the same story go off but also if you want it to be seperate go off do what u wanna do

~For Fear That You Find Out How I'm Imagining You~

Pairing: Logan Howlett x Reader x Kurt Wagner

Word Count: 3k

Warnings: oral (f receiving), Kurt and Logan run they MOUTHS, implied sex and a bunch of sexual advances, Kurt is super nervy

Genre: fluff, & some smut

Summary: Logan and Kurt can't keep their eyes off of you when they see you through a window I won't deny I've got in my mind now // All the things I would do // So I try to talk refined for fear that you find out // How I'm imagining you ~ Talk by Hozier

A/N: Honey my asks are always open xoxo gossip girl lowkey all my readers are plus sized because I am and write with myself in mind but I'm happy to write one that says so explicitly!! Thank you for the request darling. This took much of my brainpower but man did I enjoy writing it

***

You walk around the room as your students practice their hip control.

"Remember everyone, belly dancing is a combination of sharp and smooth. You wanna make it easily distinguishable when you stick something versus milking it. Luckily, the music will absolutely guide you through where to hit things." You say correcting people's posture as you weave between them.

"Can you show it to us again? Like can we see you do it?" One of your students, Max, asks.

"Yeah sure!" You say walking to the front again. You show an example of the moves you've been having them practice. Caught up in your class, you don't even notice the duo whose attention you manage to capture through the large glass windows of your studio.

"Logan, look." Kurt smacks his friend on the chest.

"What? You wanna take a dance class or something?" Logan quirks an eyebrow at him.

"No! Well- do you think that's the way to talk to her?" Kurt's brows furrow.

"Talk to who man?" Logan frowns.

"That woman. The one teaching the class. She's gorgeous don't you think Logan?" Kurt says. Logan looks through the window curiously to check you out. You're wearing a cropped shirt and a pair of shorts that sit low on your wide hips. As you do your choreography at the front of the room Logan notices the cutest little pale streaks on your sides, like tiger stripes decorating your exposed middle.

"Well yeah of course she is, you wanna meet her?" Logan asks him.

"I- I couldn't. What would I say to her?" Kurt shakes his head.

"We could start with hi." Logan shrugs.

"But she's teaching a class."

"Yeah we hang out til she's done, ask the receptionist how long she'll be in the class." He says.

"Would that not be weird?" Kurt frowns.

"Maybe but how else are we going to get a chance to talk to her?" Logan drags Kurt into the dance studio and walks up to the receptionist.

"Hey quick question, how much longer is that dance thing going on? I wanted to- talk to the instructor about what other classes she offers." Kurt is impressed with how easily Logan can come up with a lie so believable.

"It'll be over in about 10 minutes." The guy at the desk answers.

"Cool. We'll just- hang out here." Logan says taking a seat in one of the chairs in the waiting room.

"I can't believe you did that." Kurt whispers.

"Well it was that or watch her like creeps for several weeks until one of us finally works up the courage to speak to her." Logan shrugs.

"Okay but we don't have a plan, what do we say to her when the time comes?"

"We don't need a plan we just say hi and tell her the truth, that we saw her and think she's gorgeous. It can't be that difficult." Logan says.

"You say that but she might hate us."

"If she hates us we leave. She also might like us but we can't know without speaking to her. Either way we should at least give it a shot so we can be sure."

"I guess that's one way to see it." Kurt frowns.

"That's the spirit. Kinda." Logan claps a hand on Kurt's shoulder. Logan turns his attention to his phone, leaving Kurt to his thoughts.

"I can't speak to her." Kurt says suddenly.

"What are you talking about?" Logan frowns at him.

"I'm having thoughts that would require more hail marys than I can count in order to repent for them. I can't speak to her." He shakes his head.

"Why? You think she's a mind reader?" Logan scoffs.

"You can't prove that she isn't!"

"Okay well for the sake of not sounding like a paranoid set of weirdos, let's assume she's not because we have no evidence to support that she is. In which case, most days you won't even say a curse word you're not gonna get in there and start spouting all the dirty dirty things you want to do to her. You'll be fine." Logan says.

"I can't think of anything else." Kurt says, eyes wide.

"Fine then I'll do most of the talking all you have to do is stand there. Looks like the class is over, show time." Logan pulls Kurt through the group of people currently heading out of the building and slips into the studio where you're organizing your things while you drink your water.

"Excuse me?" You turn at the sound of someone's voice. You know it's not one of your students before you even turn around.

"Hi, can I help you gentlemen?" You ask the pair.

"Hi, I'm Logan and this is Kurt."

"Okay, and what brings you into my studio Logan and Kurt?" You tilt your head.

"We saw you through the giant window and we hope this doesn't read as badly as it could but we just had to come in here and tell you how gorgeous we think you are." Logan says.

"You came all the way in here to tell me you think I'm gorgeous?"

"Well yeah, why not." Logan shrugs.

"Hm. And uh, do you speak, Kurt, or does Logan do all the talking for the both of you?" You turn your attention to the silent one of the duo.

"I speak. Hi." Kurt says quickly.

"Are you nervous?" You ask him. Kurt glances at Logan. "Don't look at him, I asked you. I know he's not nervous."

"I'm- a little nervous. I wouldn't normally do something like this." He admits.

"Well what's different today?" You ask.

"Logan sort of dragged me in here."

"So then which of you thinks I'm gorgeous?" You cross your arms.

"Both of us." Kurt says.

"Hm. Well, thank you. Although I don't often find myself the subject of interest for a pair like this." You say grabbing your duffle bag and slinging it over your shoulder.

"First time for everything right?" Logan says.

"I guess so. Anything else you boys need or did you just want to throw a compliment at me and be on your way?"

"What's your name?" Kurt asks.

"Y/n." You smile.

"Beautiful." He practically sighs.

"Thank you."

"Would it be hubristic to ask if we could take you out?" Kurt asks.

"The both of you?" You ask and again Kurt looks at Logan who this time looks at him too as if they're discussing something unspoken.

"Yes." Kurt says.

"Well, it's- certainly a bold thing to ask which I guess is worth appreciating. Which of you has a phone I can put my number into?"

"Here." Logan hands you his phone and you quickly input your number and call yourself so you have his.

"Give us a couple of hours to plan something and we'll give you a call." Logan says.

"Well you'd better. Or I'll be pretty disappointed after all this." You wink at them and leave the studio.

"What are we gonna do?" Kurt asks.

"Plan a date, and quickly." Logan says.

The two boys call you in under an hour.

"Hello?" You say when you pick up the phone.

"Hey it's Logan." Logan says.

"And Kurt!" Kurt says.

"Hi boys." You chuckle. "Have you planned something already?" You ask.

"Yes. When are you free?" Logan asks.

"I teach dance classes Monday through Wednesday for most of the day and Saturdays too but only til 4."

"We'll pick you up on Friday 6 o'clock. If you're not comfortable with us coming to your place, we can meet you in front of the studio instead." Logan says.

"My place is fine. I'll text you my address. Where are we going?"

"You'll find out when we get there. Attire is casual."

"Very well. See you Friday." You say and hang up the phone.

Friday comes along and at 6 on the dot, you receive a text that Logan and Kurt are downstairs. You take a moment to double check your makeup and gather your belongings before leisurely making your way out of your apartment building. Outside, Kurt is standing by a car and he opens the door upon your arrival.

"Hello Kurt. You look nice this evening." You say, winking at him as you slide into the car. You're sure if his skin wasn't a deep shade of blue, he'd be blushing bright pink. You wonder if he can blush.

As you get into the car you realize it's vintage, it's got those old school bench seats from the 60s that fits 3 people in the front.

"Hi y/n." Logan says.

"Hi Logan, you look nice too." You tell him. Kurt gets into the seat next to you.

"It's good to see you again liebling." Kurt says.

"Liebling?" You ask.

"It means darling, it's German." Logan says.

"You're German?" You turn to Kurt.

"I speak it." He nods.

"That answer feels evasive." You muse.

"My history is complicated." He shrugs.

"And what about you, Logan, is your history 'complicated' too."

"We're mutants, complicated comes with the territory." Logan says.

"Well- it'll certainly make getting to know you two something interesting at least." You shrug.

"That's a cute outlook." Logan chuckles.

"I mean, when you get asked on a joint date by a pair of- friends? Boyfriends? What is your relationship to each other actually?" You ask.

"We have known each other a long time. I suppose friends is accurate." Kurt says.

"You suppose?" You probe.

"Logan likes to pretend he hates everybody so he never admits we are friends but he's a big softie in secret."

"Oh hush Wagner." Logan rolls his eyes.

"In secret? I'd say it's pretty obvious." You laugh.

"Alright that's enough you two. We're here." Logan rolls his eyes. You look out the window to see that you're at an arcade.

"An arcade?" You smirk.

"We thought it would be best to pick something generally enjoyable, since we don't know anything about you besides that you're a dancer." Kurt says as both he and Logan get out of the car.

"You made a good choice. I hope you're ready to get your asses kicked though." You say climbing out of the car after Kurt.

"Competitive are you?" Logan asks.

"You have no idea." You wink at him.

"You are so on pretty lady." Logan chuckles.

"Bring it big guy."

You spend a couple of hours at the arcade with them, every game you play with Logan is competitive and every game you play with Kurt is just for the fun of playing. Kurt's focus is mostly on getting to know you, and staring. All he wants to do is stare at you. It's a wonder he can manage to focus on anything else. 

If he were honest, he's not been able to shake those unholy thoughts he's been having since first seeing you. As you race Logan in some snowboarding simulator, he wonders what you would taste like. When you challenge Logan to skeeball, Kurt can't stop thinking about how you'd feel wrapped around him. When you and Logan play some zombie shooter game, he imagines your lips against his or teasing kisses down his neck. When you play one of those dancing games he can't keep his eyes from wandering over your curves in your lowcut crop top and your tennis skirt. His eyes catch the part of your tummy peaking between where your shirt ends and your skirt begins and all he wants to do is cover the area in kisses and love bites.

"Dude, what's up with you? You've been more quiet than usual." Logan asks Kurt quietly when you slip away to refill your drink.

"Hail Marys." Kurt says.

"You're doing hail marys?!"

"If only. I should be. How can you manage to hold a conversation with her when she looks so-" Kurt trails.

"Trust me man I am no saint but it's much easier to ignore that urge if you actually try to divert your attention. Play a few games that'll maybe help you dispel some of that pent up frustration you're feeling." Logan suggests.

"What are you two whispering about over here?" You ask.

"You know you've been kicking my ass all night, I think it's time for you to take down Kurt at a few of these." Logan shoves Kurt forward a little bit.

"Okay. Pick your poison Kurt." You say.

"Can I pick you?" He asks.

"Not in public." You wink. "I meant a game hon."

"That one." Kurt points to an air hockey table.

"Air hockey?" You quirk an eyebrow up.

"What? No good at that one?"

Oh no, I just thought you'd pick something else." You shrug walking over to the air hockey table. You wrap one hand around your paddle and Kurt can't help but wonder what it'd feel like for those same fingers to close around his dick the same way. You place your other hand on the edge of the table and lean forward with a smirk.

"Don't take this personally, but I'm gonna wipe the floor with you darling." You say.

"Can't wait to see this." Logan says placing the puck onto the table. It darts quickly back and forth as you both hit it across the table. The first point is yours and you clap your hands when it slides by Kurt's paddle. The next three points are also yours and Kurt hasn't scored once. The game only goes to 7 points so at this rate you'll completely sweep. Logan walks over to Kurt as he grabs the puck from under the table. You can't quite hear their hushed conversation but you watch them whisper for a few moments.

"Aren't you good at air hockey?" Logan asks Kurt.

"I made a mistake here I can't possibly focus with her bent forward like that I can practically see down her shirt." Kurt says.

"Yeah, my view isn't half bad either but I don't have to pay attention to the game here." Logan shrugs. "Focus man."

"Are you two done co-conspiring over there?" You ask.

"I'm giving a pep talk, you're crushing him." Logan defends.

"You asked me to." You say.

The final score ends up being 7 - 4 in your favor. You're surprised Kurt managed to score any considering how obviously distracted he's been.

"Not bad especially since you're barely here." You muse.

"What?"

"You're distracted. It's pretty obvious. Is something wrong?" You ask.

"Uh-" Kurt's eyes dart away from you.

"You're doing that again? I thought we were beyond looking at Logan for answers. Just tell me the truth. Whatever it is I'm sure I can handle it I'm a big girl I promise."

"It's nothing." Kurt shakes his head.

"Oh I find that hard to believe." You hum. "Logan, do you believe him?" You ask although your eyes stay on Kurt. He looks nervous enough when you ask Logan that you're sure Logan knows exactly what's going on with him.

"Well- if he says it's nothing." Logan trails.

"You're protecting him. Cute. But I expect the truth when I ask a question. So again, Kurt, what's on your mind?"

"I don't think I can say."

"Why not?"

"There aren't enough confessionals in the world to compensate for the thoughts occupying my mind at the moment and I- I would never want you to believe that's the only thing I want from you."

"A confessional?" You frown.

"No." Kurt says and you take a moment to dwell on his words before it clicks.

"Ooohh. Naughty boy, imagination running away with you is it now?" You ask.

"You could say that, yes."

"I appreciate the sentiment of being gentlemen but neither of you is particularly subtle enough with your staring for me not to notice. It's quite clear you're both... influenced by your third leg for lack of a better phrasing. Don't look at me like that I'm not a nun. Although if you're hell bent on the whole confessional thing I'm sure I can absolve you of your sins."

"W-what does that mean?"

"I think we've spent enough time at the arcade. Now the question is, how far do you two live from here?" You turn to Logan.

"About 15 minutes." Logan says.

"Perfect." You say grabbing Kurt by his collar and pulling him towards the exist. "Come along Logan." You throw over your shoulder and he does so with a chuckle.

The drive to Logan and/or Kurt's place is quick. 15 minutes isn't by any means long but you're almost certain Logan broke a couple traffic laws to get there in 10. He leads the way to the apartment and once inside the living room, you face the boys.

"Now, I've never gone to a confessional but tell me your sins so that the gods may forgive your transgressions." You say to Kurt.

"I don't speak because it's all I can do to control myself around you. I find myself consumed with thoughts of how you would taste, feel, sound, the faces you'd make in the heat of passion."

"We'll start with taste then." You tell him. With a hand on his shoulder you push Kurt to his knees in front of you. Kurt looks up at you in pure disbelief, hands on your thighs.

"You- want me to, you'll let me-" Kurt trails off as you caress his face.

"I've already asked you to. Isn't that what you want Kurt?"

"Yes please." He breathes out.

"Good, so go on, taste me." You say dropping your skirt and panties to the floor, exposing yourself to Kurt and Logan.

"Christ almighty." Kurt says before burying his face between your thighs. His tongue slides between your folds and you sigh at the pleasure it brings you.

"Don't worry Logan I haven't forgotten you, come kiss me." You say.

"Thought you'd never ask." He says placing a hand at the back of your throat as he kissing you fiercely. You slip one hand up his shirt dragging your fingers over his abdomen enjoying the way his muscles clench under your touch. Your other hand slides into Kurt's hair, holding him against you as he laps greedily at your cunt. Kurt wraps his lips around your cilt and sucks harshly at the bundle of nerves. The sharp waves of pleasure make your knees buckle slightly and Logan's arm winds around your waist holding you against him as he trails kisses to your throat.

"Oh fuck." You moan, tilting your head to give Logan more room to cover your neck in blooms of red. "Don't stop Kurt." You say, fingers tightening in his dark hair. You feel Kurt slip a finger into your entrance, sliding in and out so his tongue can focus on your clit. Logan's hands run under your shirt and when his fingers begin to tweak your nipples your orgasm hits you and your shaky legs are only supported by Logan and Kurt holding you.

"You two are a dangerous pair." You breathe out.

"You haven't seen danger yet gorgeous." Logan says nipping at your ear in a way that makes you shiver.

"Well, there's plenty of hours left in the evening. And Kurt's vices are not yet relieved."

"I hope you don't have much planned tomorrow liebling. We're rather- tenacious." Kurt says kissing along your abdomen as he rises to his feet.

"I can take it sweetheart. Don't you worry." You say. You feel pretty confident in your words, and Kurt and Logan are forever up for a challenge. If the walls could talk they'd have a novel of stories to tell.

***

[ace-of-spaders]

"We've decided to keep the baby."

[tonycries]

FIVE! - C.K.

Synopsis. Five hours - it’s all it takes for Choso’s baby fever to take over. After all, you’d look so pretty with his kid - five of them, in fact.

Pairing. Choso Kamo x Reader 

Content. MDNI, fem! reader, established relationship, unprotected, bréeding, Choso with rings + a tongue piercing, creampíe, mentioned kids, cúmplay, he goes feraI, oraI (fem receiving), Itadori family shenanigans (mild spoilers for unc-kuna), overstím, fíngering, pet names, swearing.

Word count. 5.9k

A/N. Will I ever write a Choso fic without the Itadori family? No absolutely not.

4:37PM.

“Ooo, Cho can we check that place out?”

And, listen, just because Choso would give you the moon right along with his heart doesn’t exactly mean he’s jumping with joy when he follows your gaze to that gaudy little shop tucked away in a corner of the mall. Flashing a loud, glittering sign reading, “FORTUNES: FIND YOUR FUTURE!”

Traitorous memories flash through his mind with each step you drag him closer. Of all those fortune shops he’d frequented years ago, trying to figure out whether you’d say yes to a date - before even thinking of actually asking you. 

He won’t ask anything, Choso reassures, stepping through the heady, curtained doorway. Probably not anything, he’s musing, pulling out his wallet to pay for your session. Well, maybe some things, he concludes, eyeing the sprightly old woman that takes a seat opposite you two, peering down at her dramatically large glass ball on the table. 

But that doesn’t mean he’ll-

“Babies.”

“Huh?”

“Yes.” the woman gives a solemn nod. “Five of them.”

Both of you let out a squawk of surprise, much to the amusement of the fortune teller. And Choso can feel his palms getting sweaty against your own as he manages to croak out a low, disbelieving, “Five?”

All but toppling out of his seat in suspense as she takes a moment to scrutinize her orb once more. And, surely glass balls can glitch, right? Mix up fortunes or something? Because while he knows you’ll be by his side in this life and every other one after - kids were a whole other responsibility that neither of you had talked about, yet.

At least, that’s what Choso was trying to convince himself right before the woman lets out a thoughtful hum, “Well, you-” pointing a wisened, accusing finger right in his flushed face. “-want more - about eight - but, of course, your future wife says no.” Gesturing to your giggling figure, “Honestly, young man, learn to keep it in your pants, the poor dear!”

Shit, he was going to run away, do something to end up on the national news - and judging by the way you squeeze his hand, you could tell, too. 

Subconsciously, Choso’s eyes scan the wall for any hidden cameras, wondering what type of strange prank this was. It had happened once four years ago - and just-so-happened to be what made him give up and finally ask you out - but, hey, it made for a pretty great first date story, right?

Finding none, he sighs, barely opening his mouth to ask before she plows on, “And of course there’s only so many your uncle can piggyback at once, right? No matter how much that grump says he doesn’t like it.”

Right.

Of course.

Oh god, he thinks he could faint. 

Choso doesn’t dare say anything for the rest of the session, nor does he look directly in your eyes. Save for that one time to admire your delighted laugh when the fortune teller prattles on about how your kids will “fight his needy self for your attention.”

Not until the two of you are stepping back out into the too-bright mall, your fingers intertwined with his, voice sweet in his ear as you continue with your forgotten mission to find the good brownie mix for the family dinner tonight. 

“Eyes like yours and hair like mine.” You sigh, repeating what you’d heard mere minutes ago. Hooking a finger subtly into his belt loop, smirking, “Sooo, five, huh? You’re this worked up over that?”

“N-no.” Choso replies hastily, but the heavy gulp he takes is a dead giveaway he can’t stop thinking about tiny combinations of the two of you running around. Face too-hot, hands jittery, brows furrowed as he decides for the second time in his life that, yeah he’s never stepping foot inside a fortune shop again. 

You notice - of course, you do. 

Especially when he pulls you into the nearest changing stall, knuckle-deep inside your drenched panties, rings cool against your cunt, lips kissing at your throat. Ignoring your teasing complaints about “getting late”, despite how you’re letting him have his way. 

He feels the vibration of your voice under his hot tongue, laughing - even when he gives your pretty clit a little pinch. “Five.”

And through it all, he can’t help but think - hypothetically, of course, that he hopes they all have your laugh.

---

7:16PM.

Honestly, the one thing that made the Itadori residence more of a home to Choso was having you there. Even when you’re standing with him outside the front door, letting out a sigh as you glare at your sad excuse for brownies.

“Ugh, Cho, we totally burnt them.” you grumble up at your boyfriend. “Your dad is gonna hate it and Sukuna’s gonna make fun of me and-”

“Sukuna can try.” Choso hits the doorbell once more, sure that the ruckus inside was too loud to even think over. “And he probably will.” Before turning back to your adorable pout, and ah he can’t stop himself from cupping your face, smoothing over that furrow in your brow. He leans in to give your lips a chaste peck, “But, he’s still gonna steal some. N’ dad’ll love it, and you already know gramps is gonna sneak in some even though his doctor told him not to.” He’s getting out through kisses, pulling your giggling face closer to his. “And we’ll be lucky to get any before Itadori inhales them.”

He ends his little speech with a slow, lingering kiss. Sliding his soft lips across your now much happier ones. Dancing a hand down to pull your hips closer, murmuring throatily, “N’ most of all, I’m gonna love ‘em, baby.”

You gasp at the feeling of his long fingers pressing just at the hem of your panties through your dress, “You’re- you’re too much.” You hiss, but it comes out more breathless than you intended. “But, the brownies really are-”

Slam!

“Yeah yeah, Jin, the brats are finally here, jus’ fucking on the porch!” 

If there’s anything Choso’s learned from all the times you’ve had dinner with his family, it’s that 1. Yes, the brownies - as burnt and questionable as they were - will always turn out to be a hit in the Itadori household. 2. You were really, really too perfect for your own good, even amidst the chaos. 

“Oh no, let me.” you flash Jin a beaming smile, taking over the well cleared-out plates to the kitchen. Only to be followed by an enthusiastic Yuji almost tripping over his own feet to help you out. 

“You got a good one there.” Choso snaps out of his soft stare to whirl around at where his grandpa was seated next to him. He tips his head over to where you were chattering animatedly with the younger boy taking your load of dishes. “Real lovely. Though, the desert I’m assuming you helped out with.”

Jin pipes up, “Bah! I thought that liquorice was great.”

“They were…brownies.” Face burning, he stammers, knowing full well that you were the one that forgot them in the oven. “And uh y-yeah, you got me…”

And, of course, because it’s a family dinner, Sukuna has to lean over to rile him up. Interjecting teasingly, “Then you best wife that cute lil’ thing up before those baking skills of yours make ‘em run off n’ find someone that can bake.” He smirks devilishly, eyes flitting to the view of the kitchen, “And…”

“And?”

“-is fuckin’ great with kids, too.”

Several things happen at once - the words are barely out of Sukuna’s mouth before he’s being swatted over the head. Hard. After all, being the nicer of the two doesn’t make Jin Itadori forget his roots as the older brother.

And Choso’s jaw is dropping into a soft oh! Not at the unusual display of strength, no, instead it was at the heavenly scene before him.

He swears, the lights grow just a bit brighter and the world becomes a little rosier at the sight of you teaching an eager Yuji the correct way to scrub strainers. Gently guiding the boy until that confused furrow between his brow disappears. “Yeah, just a bit more on the side and you’re done!”

He gives you a very soapy high-five, “You’re literally a lifesaver, Kugisaki was just making fun of me for this the other day.” Moving onto the rest of the workload, “‘Can’t do shit’ gonna show her, seriously. Thank you mom- uh-”

Yuji freezes. You freeze. And it seems that everyone in the world might’ve frozen, except for Sukuna who was still rubbing that bump on his head. 

And you, of course, promptly cutting off the flurry of apologies that looked like they were about to burst from Itadori’s lips. Smiling at the flustered boy softly, “Well…good job, Yuji.” you bump his hip. “And now onto the blender.”

“AW, MAN.”

Suddenly, everything was normal again. Except for Choso - definitely not Choso. 

Mom? 

So utterly, completely not Choso when everyone’s still talking downstairs, and he’s not. Making some cheap excuse about a ‘bathroom break’, which really didn’t explain why he covertly drags you behind him by the hand. All but shoving you into his childhood bedroom, shutting the door as quietly as he could without alerting anyone of your tryst. 

“Ch-Cho-” you squeal when he pushes you against the wall, dropping down to his knees with a fervor that makes you wince. But if it hurt, then Choso doesn’t show it - doesn’t show anything but pure need when he bunches your dress up at your waist. Soft tongue darting out to glide along your drenched slit, “What’s gotten- hngh- into you?”

The only response you get is a murmured growl of something you can’t bother deciphering. And he doesn’t give you any other, either - sluggishly nudging away your panties to admire your glistening cunt. 

So close. Just hovering over your puffy folds, smiling at the way they only get wetter at his hot breath, “Five.”

Too close. Glossy pink lips falling slack to wrap around your clit and-

KNOCK! KNOCK! KNOCK!

Though, it was more of a bang. And an even louder voice from outside, “OI, you brats better be decent, gramps found some dusty old albums n’ wants you two down.”

---

9:02PM.

“Awww, this is from his first fight with Yuji- yes, Choso so what if I took a picture?” Jin excitedly points to a photo on the page, “Yuji was the one with a bruise, but Choso was the one bawling.”

You titter at the glossy picture, a confused-looking Yuji as a toddler, being smothered by his older brother in a hug - big, fat tears running down his pouty cheeks. Adorable. And somehow that encounter with the fortune teller today rings in your mind - wonder if your kids would have those same eyes?

“As cute as ever, huh?” your gaze dances across all the gems of childhood on the page. 

“Disagreed.” Sukuna leans over, no matter how much he’d like to pretend he wasn’t interested in these albums. “Look how attached the lil’ anklebiter used to be.” A painted nail pokes at one of Choso on his uncle’s shoulders, tiny fists happily gripping onto pink hair - much to his disgruntlement. “And then I look over at him now and-” He glances over at the man in question, very much unamused. “Well. That’s disappointing.”

Choso rolls his eyes, “What’s disappointing is how you’re this old but still can’t find a-” 

“Ooo look this is from when he’d run away during bath time!”

That album is snatched so fast out of Jin’s hands that you wonder whether it might just be your imagination. But you look over at a red-faced Choso, seeing him hold it way above your heads. Muttering out a hasty, “I think that’s enough photo time.”

Amidst the collective groans of disappointment - even Sukuna lets out a low huff, you hadn’t gotten to those ugly matching Halloween costume pictures yet - only Yuji speaks up, “Do you think I’d be like that, too?”

Sukuna scoffs, “What? An emo bastard? Might just work out for ya, kid, the dumbass look isn’t doing you any favors.”

Yuji juts his chin in indignance, “No- we already have Fushiguro for that.” Tilting his head over to the album still tight in Choso’s clutches. “Do you think your kids would like me? Would I be that cool favorite family member?”

“No way, brat. It’ll be me.”

Choso’s grandpa also chimes in as well, “Huh? No, I’d be the favorite.”

“Gramps-”

“Says who?”

“DISRESPECT TO YOUR ELDERS!”

“Hey!” Everything turns to Choso, startled at his sudden outburst. Tension crackling as he pokes a thumb at his chest, “I’d be their favorite. For all five of them.”

And you knew a fist or two to be thrown, hell, you half-expected the album to be used as some type of weapon. Because before you knew it, Sukuna was on Yuji, and both Yuji and Choso were on Sukuna. Falling to the floor in a tangled pile while his grandpa sat on the sidelines, chanting an elated, “Fight! Fight! Fight!”

Ah, it’s times like this that you wonder how Jin Itadori really had the patience. Because with all the grace that was lacking in the current scuffle on the living room floor, he claps his hands loudly. “Alright. Perhaps Choso’s right, that’s enough photo time for tonight.” He plucks the album out of a dazed Choso still gripping onto it, before moving to walk out. “And for the record-” Flashing you all a devious smile which suddenly had you remember that shit, him and Sukuna were twins, after all. “-I’d be the favorite.”

The arguments that followed were ones you had to record on your phone to giggle at later. And, yet, through it all, the only thing you could truly focus on were Choso’s words - all five of them.

Fuck. You were truly, irrevocably so fucked, and one sideglance at the pretty pink blush burning at the tips of Choso’s ears told you he wasn’t faring any better. 

You jolt when his hand wraps around your waist - nothing out of the ordinary - but what was was the way he strayed past their usual perch at your hip, trailing slightly above to just caress your stomach. Something so electric in those eyes when they catch yours briefly. 

All five of them, huh?

---

9:37PM. 

SLAM!

“Cho, why’d you-”

“Shut up.”

You don’t know what’s hitting you first - his lips crashing against yours, or the realization that this was Choso. Dark eyes half-lidded, skin burning, breaths heaving with the fervor he was drinking you in with. 

“What-” you yelp when he pulls away lazily to suck on your lower lip. “What got-” Only to come clashing back down again, drawing out all the air in your lungs as he blindly shoves the two of you against the nearest wall. “What got into you this- mmpf-” And again it’s like Choso didn’t want you to talk - could bare another word in your sweet voice for fear of poking some deep, visceral part of himself awake. 

This time, not even daring to break the kiss, he pants into your open mouth, “Shut up.” So bruisingly sloppy, “Please.”

And oh he was so very determined to have it that way, because all you can do is let out breathless gasps when his hands dance down your body. Handling you so rough with the way he snaps the neckline of your cute lil’ dress, kneading your breasts, your hips. Everywhere and anywhere he could reach until he makes his way down to cup your already-damp cunt through your panties. “-because tonight m’gonna have her talking.”

Choso pushes his hips against yours with a strained grunt. Lips curling into a sinful leer when all you can do is gasp at the outline of his thick erection through his pants. Grinding down onto his palm subconsciously, dragging your sloppy pussy. 

“Shit.” Choso immediately brings his hand up to admire - now all glistening with a sheen of your syrupy slick. Looking you right in your glassy eyes as he pops a wet finger into his mouth. His own rolling to the back of his head, “Oh shit.”

Oh, he was going to enjoy this. So very, very much.

“Turns out…” he trails off, cutting himself off by dropping to his knees. Hard. Large hands groping your ass closer to his greedy mouth, “-she says we got some unfinished business.”

You whine when Choso hooks an index underneath the mound of your drenched panties sliding it along your puffy folds. All the way up until he was nudging at your pretty clit, then down, down, down until you were just coating his fingers. 

“Ngh- Cho-” your knees weaken, when his hot breath hits your pussy. And he notices - of course he does. Circling his muscled arms around your legs to hold you up, “Oh my god s’too much.”

Too much? He’s barely even getting started. And he tells you that - slurs it between his sharp canines biting down on the thin fabric of your panties. He tugs with his teeth, “M’gonna- fuck you smell so heavenly- m’gonna ruin you.” 

You whimper in disbelief. Knowing he was too entranced with your cunt to tease you again, you mewl, “Wh-what’s got you this- fuck- worked up, Cho?”

The only response you get is a throaty growl - like the mere idea of the answer to that has Choso losing his sanity. 

And, honestly he feels like he’s lost it already. Instead, taking his time to watch the way your slick beads through the see-through fabric with each passing second. Breaths coming out in little puffs as he pulls your panties back every-so-slightly and-

“Fuck!”

And then he’s pulling - ripping your poor panties to shreds. Cock twitching wildly at the strings of slick connecting your pussy to the fabric. Mouthwatering. 

Your panties lay in tatters on the floor. The cold air hitting you right along with his steady stream of saliva. Once. Twice. Smearing it across your folds with his thumbs as Choso repeats a single, jagged whisper, “Five.”

But you barely even have the time to register his response before he’s diving nose-deep into your dripping cunt. You don’t even know if he took the time to breathe - hell, he was kissing your puffy folds like he didn’t need to breathe. 

“Shouldn’t have taken me to ngh- that fortune shop.” his lips mesh sloppily with yours. “Shouldn’t have gone to dinner, too.” Licking down your folds, the cold metal of his piercing making your head spin. “Fuckkk we shouldn’t have. Ohhh we shouldn’t have- ”

He can’t help but let out a guttural, fucked-out little grunt at the sight. Looking right up into your glassy eyes as the tip of his nose bumps against your throbbing clit. On purpose. 

You buck your hips deeper into his pretty face, mewling. “O-oh. Fuck- fuck fuck fuck-” Letting him lick so filthily all over your clit - your folds - just barely dipping into your hole like he couldn’t decide. And it finally sets in that just maybe you weren’t getting off easy this time. “Five?”

And fuck you can feel the way Choso grins against your pussy, wrapping his now-glossy lips around your clit to suck so harshly.

“Mhmmm.” he moans, cheeks hollowing as he tugs on your poor, ravaged clit. Rolling his tongue - the ball of his piercing - right across the sensitive bud in just the way he knew you liked. “Shouldn’t have put those thoughts in my head, baby.”

Oh.

Oh, shit. Five. 

You definitely weren’t making it out alive today.

The same sentiment seems to ring in Choso’s pussydrunk head as he pulls away with a lewd squelch to grin up at you. So fucking pretty with his eyes miles away, hair messily framing his smudged eyeliner. Lips all puffy and glistening, your slick covering the lower half of his face, his chin - some even on his jaw like Choso was trying to get messy on purpose. “Ya finally got it, baby? I could feel her gettin’ wetter.”

You did. How could you not?

You jump when Choso reattaches his lips, this time bullying his tongue past your folds, into that first, feeble ring of resistance. Stretching out your sopping entrance on his tongue in persistent, rough pushes. “Seems she hngh- really likes the idea, hm? Of me breeding this lil’ cunt?” he moans, muffled with the way he was thrusting his tongue deeper and deeper with each second. Roaming for those cute sensitive spots he knew so well, “N’ who am I to say no to the fuck- mother of my kids?”

“There! Oh my god there-” you cry when his piercing just hits at your g-spot. “I-I thought you ngh- didn’t want kids, Cho–”

As if to prove you wrong, Choso’s only curling his tongue deeper into your walls. Squeezing past your walls to fuck you exactly the way he wanted to with his aching cock right now. Hitting that magic spot again and again and-

“Oh yeah? Seems-” Like he was fucking addicted, Choso surges forward again. And again. And again and again so deep that you could feel the curve of his chin, each and every movement of his jaw. “Seems the last five hours were a bit- eye-opening. Fuck- you’re squeezin’ me s’fucking- mmf- tight”

And it was true - your walls were milking Choso’s tongue so hard you half-lucidly wondered whether it didn’t hurt. Whether his tongue wasn’t cramping up at this point, lips aching. 

But if they did, then Choso acted the exact opposite. Nails leaving neat little patterns on the plush of your hips as he makes you ride his face harder. 

“Cho!” you buck your hips wildly when that wasn’t enough for your needy boyfriend either. Big, fat tears of overstimulation rising up to your eyes when he swipes his thumb across your pulsing clit. Rings cold against your cunt when he starts to draw urgent, messy little circles in time with his tongue.“Oh fuck-” 

“Five.” he’s spitting into your cunt when your thighs start trembling beside his head. Jaw sagging open so lewdly as he gets faster - sloppier. Fuck any rhythm or reason. “Five.” he moans, sounding as strained as you felt - as taut as a tightrope right now with each drag of your sloppy cunt over Choso’s ravenous mouth. Greedier - letting your slick run all the way down his wrist now with how messy he was getting. “Five.” he whispers, when you finally cum. 

And shit, you’re such a vision when you do. Tears springing to your eyes, fingers tightening on Choso’s hair. Letting out such cute sobs of his name, hips moving out of control all over his mouth while he still pulls and pushes his tongue into your gummy walls. Fucking you so obscenely through your high. 

“Yeah? You all done with the first one, baby?” he rasps, giving your sensitive cunt one, last peck at your delirious nod - and another extra, just to watch you squirm. “Then-” Choso does the same up your body, pressing his lips to your stomach, “-you can-” the valley of your breasts. “-take responsibility.”

That’s all it takes for Choso to easily throw you onto his sculpted shoulders like some ragdoll. Taking long, urgent steps towards the nearest flat surface - that just so happened to be your couch. 

“Cho- slow-” you squeal when he throws you onto the cushions. “-down.”

And he does anything but. Barely paying attention to your zipper when he pulls off whatever’s left of your dress, throwing it god-knows-where behind him. “I’ll buy you a new one when we go pregnancy shopping.”

Choso lets out a long, strained groan when he unbuckles your bra. “Gonna be so pretty as a mama.” Large, soft hands coming to knead and guide your pretty nipples into his mouth, “Gonna be- fuck- so pretty with these all full.” 

And you can only watch, jaw-dropped, as Choso sucks on your tits. Eyes rolling to the back of his head with how harsh he was - as if he was trying to get out milk. Needing to feel it - to taste it on his tongue. 

“And this- oh this-” A hand sneaks its way down to splay out over your stomach. Pressing down, hard. “So round and full with my kid.” He manages to grit out over the metal clinking of his belt, “They’ll look at you and all they’ll see is me.” He pauses, feeling something crinkle in his pocket - a shiny condom. One that Choso chucks along with your dress, “Fuck, they’ll see me. Know how I ruined you. Me me me me-”

Fuck- 

You’re so caught up in Choso’s sinful little mutters that you barely even noticed he’d pull down his pants - just enough for his rock-hard erection to spring free. And he looked so painfully hard, such an angry red at his weeping tip, leaking all the way down, down, down those prominent veins. 

Twitching upwards at the mere sound of your voice, “Why don’t you p-prove it then, Cho?”

You broke him. You were sure you broke him. 

The words have barely left your lips before Choso’s fist is squeezing at the drenched base of his cock. Angry. Desperate. 

All but cumming on the spot when he glides his fat head along your slit - letting your cunt drool all over him before-

“F-fuck-”

“Shhh baby, I know I know.” his mouth crashes against yours in a messy, open-mouthed kiss. Sucking on your tongue while he bullies his massive cock into your snug cunt. Inch by fucking inch. And whatever’s remaining of Choso’s sanity knows he should slow down, let you breathe, maybe stretch you out more - but how could he when he physically can’t. “Fuck- too- too good. God, I have t-to do this more often.”

Your raw cunt too heavenly that he genuinely can’t stop his hips from splitting you apart deeper, from spreading your thrashing legs so far apart it burned.

From feeling the way you’re torn between taking more and flattening your feet to push away- Letting out a strangled groan, “No no no no no- don’t you take this pussy away. How else will I breed her?” He runs his delirious mouth, strong arms just dragging you across the couch back onto his mean cock. “Need this- need this so bad. Fuck-” Choso throws his head back as your cunt sucks up his leaky tip. “-oh god think m’gonna die if I don’t get to breed this pretty pussy. To give her my kid.”

Pushing in small, sharp jabs to bully himself inside, having your puffy folds bulge so obscenely around his cock. Quivering and struggling to take him all. Not even a quarter of the way in yet he was pushing in and out in and out in and-

“Oh- please-” you claw down his toned back, his waist, onto the biceps that were pushing your knees up for easier access, all the way until they were at your tits. Folding you into a tight mating press, “Cho–”

Ah, that little nickname always did things to him. And Choso nuzzles the crook of your neck gently - the exact opposite of his hips, leaving faint, dark streaks of eyeliner on your skin. “What is it? What do you hngh- want, baby? I’ll give ya anything.”

And maybe you were a mastermind. Maybe you were an idiot. Because you hum into his ear, sending goosebumps rising down your boyfriend’s spine, “Wan’ five of them.”

If you thought you broke him before then you fucking ruined him now.

Because in one, harsh thrust he’s bottoming out - feeling like he was pushing all the way into your lungs, your hazy brain. And the stretch - fuck. You could feel each and every dip and curve of Choso’s girth, thrumming against your plushy walls. Still pushing inside you despite bottoming out, stretching you out like such a slut. 

It was all Choso could do to echo, over and over like some type of mantra. “Finally- Five, huh? Five- Fuck!” Leaving little bruises on your thighs from spreading them apart so hard. “Gonna give you five- fuck- five.”

Each word was punctuated by a long, mean thrust, not daring to reel back until Choso could feel his fat head kiss your poor cervix, and his heavy balls smack against your ass. 

It was starting to take a toll on your ability to speak in coherent sentences - as expected, of course. 

“Oh- ngh- Cho, s’too deep. Too- ah-” you blubber tearily, heels digging into his shoulders. And he only fucks you harder into the couch. Bouncing you so rough on his swollen cock. 

“Too deep?” Choso mutters, sounding genuinely surprised. As if to confirm for himself, he trails up a hand to feel for where he knew he was leaving loving little marks on your cervix. Pressing down. “How are ya- hah- how are ya gonna let me breed this cute cunt if even this is too deep, huh?”

You don’t have the ability to answer even if you wanted to - because Choso starts to toy with your still-sensitive clit. Sending flashes of white-hot pleasure with each roll of his ringed thumb over it. Tiny, incessant circles.

He coos over your lewd ah! ah! ah! “Awww. My baby can’t s-speak anymore?”. The curve of his dick fucking you so dumb, massaging your tight walls, hitting sweet spots you didn’t even know you had. “S’alright, jus’ let me hah- take care of it, okay? Jus’ let me paint this oh- heavenly pussy white.” Choso’s knees dig into the cushion as he angles his hips ever-so-slightly to hit that one-

“Fuck! Oh fuck- Cho–”

Found it.

“C’mon, baby.” Choso moans into the valley of your breasts, hips out of control now. Free hand coming up to squish your cheeks together, forcing you to peer into his dark gaze. “L-look at me. Fuck- look at the future father to your kids.”

All while his thick tip hit your g-spot over and over and- 

And oh how he loved how fucked-out you looked already. Capable of only giving him bleary, cockdrunk heart-eyes as he milks himself on your sloppy cunt. He couldn’t think straight - doesn’t think he’s been able to since five hours ago. 

Since he’s been wrecked with thoughts of how he’d do their hair and you’d pick them up from school. And how Yuji would be the best uncle and- Fuck, how he wanted those five kids with you - maybe even more- 

“More?” you gasp. And Choso lets out a guttural groan when you clench so sinfully around him in surprise. Fucking you so filthy, “M-more kids?”

Choso only drawls out a low, “Mhmmmm.” Pinching your clit faster between two fingers to shut up those cute whines because shit- he could cum from just how tight you were squeezing him. But refuses to before the mother of his kids. “Ya don’ ngh- wan’ me to? Don’ want me to fuck a baby into you?” 

You’re crying out harder when he speeds up. Rocking your sloppy cunt so harshly, making sure your poor pussy will remember him for a long, long time. Just trying - needing - to make himself cum. To fill you up with his seed till you can’t take it anymore. “I- ngh- do!”

And it takes everything in Choso to pull away from your ravaged tits, connecting his sweaty forehead with yours. Whispering, “How many?”

“As- fuck-”

“Mhm?”

“As many as you want- hngh-”

That’s all it takes for Choso’s body to bow, teeth digging in right above that rapid pulse on your neck so hard you wondered whether it drew blood. Hips stuttering, giving your sensitive spot one last, harsh kiss.

This time, when you cum you see white flashes behind your eyes - or maybe that was just Choso. Because the sight of you falling apart on his dick was all it takes for him to as well. Hard. Almost painfully so. 

Eyeliner running down his cheeks now with each thick, hot rope of seed he was filling your snug cunt up with. Those cushions below the two of you the last thing on his mind right now as he holds your trembling hips still, fucking his cum deeper and deeper.

The hand on your stomach pushes down, watching awe-struck at how your bloated cunt just coats him in cum. Dribbling down the side of your puffy folds, forming a creamy ring at his base.

“Oh!“ your jaw falls slack at how animalistic it felt. At how slutty your overfilled pussy felt, drooling all down your legs - and his. Onto Choso’s painfully squeezing balls as he fucks you like an animal. Again. And again and-

Again. He was speeding his hips up again. 

Then it’s like something snaps - Choso’s restraint, your sanity, and the couch. Fuck, his hips were so harsh that the couch was sagging entirely too much on your end.

This time, wrangling your legs around Choso’s waist, lifting your limp body up into Choso’s arms before you can react - squirming at the way he still doesn’t bother to pull out. Letting your cum gush all the way down his still-hard dick. 

Hands spreading your puffy folds apart, making such a mess of cum down below as he drags himself across your walls. Like he was marking you from the inside out - and he was.

“Didn’t think we were ngh- done, did you?” Choso’s lips graze your swollen ones. “After all, I did promise five.” Softly pooling a stray tear onto his tongue, piercing burning into your heated skin. “N’ we gotta practice for that, too, right?”

---

“The photo albums, really? Honestly, dad, you might as well have just gone and just outright told them.”

The older man only waves a hand dismissively, turning back to his favorite late-night show, “I’m not getting any younger here. N’ I’d like to see some grandkids before I see the pearly gates.”

Jin only sighs, but doesn’t disagree - after all, he couldn’t deny his father what he himself has been dreaming about ever since Choso finally plucked up the courage to actually ask you out. Yet he persists, “But honestly, Sukuna - you were teasing him a bit too much.”

Sukuna grunts, “Teasing? What teasing?” Crossing two big arms across his chest, “From the way they ran outta here, I suspect he should be thanking me.”

“Well, the true MVP - as the kids say - is this one-” Grandpa Itadori points at a rather oblivious Yuji. ‘Real nice improv to the plan, kid.“

Who only shakes his head before looking around the room for any answers, “Huh, wait. What plan? Did I miss some plan?”

“Ahem- no. Nothing.” Jin coughs, swiftly moving along the conversation above Yuji’s confused protests about what secret plan there was and why. “But, really, it should be that fortune teller you hired, Sukuna. Bit over-the-top honestly, but Choso was telling me all about her and you must’ve gotten a real convincing actress.”

Rolling his eyes, “Huh, I didn’t hire her, I thought that was the ol’ man’s work?”

“Now why would I go looking for actresses, my wife would just haunt me from the grave.”

The silence that follows is a heavy one as it slowly dawns upon everyone in the room - except for a still-floundering Yuji - that this was in no way a creative improvisation to the aforementioned plan. Not at all, really.

Oh. 

Wow. Five…really?!

“GUYS WHAT WAS THE PLAN?”

A/N. This got wayyyyyy longer than I expected lmao.

Plagiarism not authorized.

[lxnarphase]

g. satoru who is a massive pervert and constantly whines for you to let him touch you all the time, even when you're both around others. you've lost count of how many times he grabs you and pulls you into his lap, his warm hands slipping under your shirt while sitting next to g. suguru, who's attention is no longer on the tv.

'he doesn't mind,' satoru always comforts you, grinning into the skin of your neck. 'sugu's my best friend, he knows i can't help but touch you, baby.'

best friend or not, that doesn't explain how you always ended up with your legs spread open wide in satoru's lap, your jeans and panties discarded somewhere on the floor as suguru kisses all over your thighs. the two of them talk like you aren't even there, as if you aren't growing wetter as each second passes.

"satoru," suguru purrs, his fingers running up and down your soft lips, parting them open to watch slick slowly drip out of you. "you must be doing something else to her. i've never seen it get wet so quickly." the way he speaks so calmly makes you dizzy. it's unfair, so fucking unfair how calm and collected suguru is when he's inches away from your pussy, those pretty purple eyes focused on it.

"yeah? 's wet?" it's also unfair how riled up it gets satoru, seeing his pretty baby getting shy because his best friend is rubbing his fingers up and down her slick folds. "she's so messy, isn't she? she's the prettiest little pussy," he coos into your ear. that gets a chuckle from suguru, his eyes finally looking at you. "always the one to talk to the pussy and not about it, aren't you, satoru?"

his fingers finally focus on your clit, rubbing little circles into it. both you and satoru look pretty from this angle, suguru notices. the pure need and shyness on your face paired with that manic desperation on satoru's...it's a perfect picture, one he wants saved forever. maybe next time you'll let him take some pictures...after all, he needs a new background for his phone.

"c'mooon, sugu...give her a kiss? c'mon, c'mon, give that cunt a kiss, tell me how sticky 'n' wet she is," satoru fucking begs, acting as if he's the one spread open and dripping. but you second the thought, giving suguru the prettiest little puppy eyes.

"anything for you, princess," he coos softly, leaning down and pressing a little kiss on your clit. it's so light you barely feel it but then he's peppering kisses on it, your wetness starting to get on his lips and making each press of his lips sticker and wetter. "s-sugu-!" before you can even beg for more, his mouth is on you. his tongue is so wet and hot on your cunt, it feels like he was drooling for you.

"does she taste good? how wet is she, suguru, c'mon, tell me, tell me how that pussy tastes, pretty please?"

"mm, satoru, it's almost as if you wanted to be between her legs."

"who wouldn't? she's so pretty, she's squirmin' so cutely, my pretty baby, my needy little mochi, her pussy's always so creamy and warm and messy, god, i miss it right now."

"shit...stop talking like that, you're gettin' me flustered, should i-"

"s-sugu, please, keep going," you so politely ask. it's unbearable how cute you are, it's taking everything in him to keep being nice, to keep treating your cunt nicely. he knows satoru is mean and practically bullies your pretty slit almost every day, but he wants to be the nice one, the one who you go to when your 'toru' is being too mean. yet, you're making it so fucking hard when you look at him with lidded eyes that beg him to be rougher with you...

but he knows he's done for when satoru whispers something in your ear that has your eyes fluttering a bit and gets a pretty little gasp from you. those gorgeous eyes—oh, do you have little tears in them too?—connect with his and he's fucked.

"s-suguuu, please," you coo to him, moving your legs to hook over his shoulders and pull him closer to the apex of your thighs. "i need your mouth on my pussy r-really bad, please don't tease me." you take a pause and squeeze your eyes shut, whining a little as satoru coos for you to keep going. "g-give my...my messy cunt attention, suguru..."

suguru shakily sighs and the next thing you know, his mouth is smushed against your pussy, his tongue hungrily swirling against your clit as his hands grab onto the fat of your thighs. he doesn't know what gojo told you in order to hear you say that, but he's silently thanking him as he messily sucks and slurps at your juicy cunt.

it's so hot, all it takes is a few swipes of his tongue and you're gushing everywhere. suguru lowers his head to dip into your hole and he moans. he missed this, missed the sweet taste of your juices on his tongue as you squirmed and moaned for him, your boyfriend's best friend.

"fuck, i-i can hear how wet she is," comes satoru's pitiful whine, his hand dipping down to swipe at your clit as suguru focused on lapping up everything that dripped out of you. "lemme help, lemme help, wanna help you get her creamy, sugu." the feeling of suguru groaning into your puffy folds has you keening, arching your back against satoru's chest. oh, he's in heaven watching you both. "yeah, you didn't know she could cream, didya? put your fingers in her, sugu, put 'em in that sticky little pussy 'n' angle up."

reluctantly pulling his mouth off you with a wet sound, suguru slips two of his fingers in you. he doesn't miss the cry of his name, but he really doesn't miss the delirious giggle and moan when he angles his fingers up, rubbing against that spongy spot.

"f-fuck, she's dripping..."

"go on, fuck her with your fingers, you know you wanna see her make a mess. make her fucking cream, suguru, get her prepped. maybe t'day she'll let you put it in...oh, based on your face, she just clenched on your fingers, yeah?"

his fingers are still swirling around your clit, his other coming down to press on your abdomen. he can hear you getting wetter, your little whimpers turning to moans as you slur their names desperately. he wants you to lose all thoughts, only able to think about him and suguru...yeah, he wants you all soft and sweet so he and his best friend can try and slip into those warm, slick walls.

"mmn...she's really creaming...god, pretty girl, can you cum for me? i wanna see you cum on my fingers. satoru, move your fingers, the poor thing needs my mouth on her."

"hmmm, suddenly you know what she needs? ehehehe, you're learninggg, suguruuuu!" if you had turned to look at satoru, you'd see the charged look in his eye, blue eyes practically glowing with insanity. his hand grabs a fistful of suguru's hair and pulls his face directly into your cunt, unable to handle any more of this. he wanted to see you cum on suguru's face.

"c'mon, c'mon, kiss it, suguru, make it messy for the both of us. mmh, fuck, listen to you making out with her pussy, s' wet and sticky, isn't it? oohmygod, both of you sound so good, she's gonna cum, sugu, she's gonna cum in your mouth...fuck, i love you both so much, can't wait to see you both fucking each other."

[happy74827]

Say Yes to Heaven

[Logan Howlett x Female!Reader]

Synopsis: Sometimes all it takes is one look. One gesture. One word. One action. To remind them that not everyone sees them the same, and It's enough to send a person over the edge.

WC: 3690

Category: Fluff, First Kiss, Logan’s POV

Another Grumpy!Logan x Sunshine!Reader because it’s my comfort trope ✨🫶

『••✎••』

He never realized how much he wanted someone to care for.

It was something he didn't know he desired. A year ago, he didn't care for a single thing. He felt nothing. He was so numb. So empty.

He was an angry man. The kind of man people kept their distance from. Wade ruined that; he aggravated him so much that Logan started actually caring about his life. And for as much as he despised his fugly ass, he was internally grateful for him. He started to open up more and more.

Wade had a part in taking him out of rock bottom, as they say, but you… you aggravated him in the most endearing way possible. You were so bright, so happy, and full of life. Logan couldn't understand how someone could be like that, and he hated you for it. He thought it was so ignorant of you.

"I mean, come on, how could she be that happy all the time? It's fucking dumb. She doesn't even know me!"

That's what he said to Wade, but his roommate only laughed. He found his frustration hilarious and made fun of him constantly.

And don’t even get started on the way you spoke. Never once have you raised your voice at anyone. You always talked softly, and even if you were pissed off, you still found a way to make your words sound gentle.

The man couldn’t wrap his mind around the way you acted, you weren’t a mutant, but you damn well could have been with that forever customer service smile you wore every day.

The level of patience and understanding you held for people was insane to him, especially the amount of patience you held with him.

He was constantly telling you to fuck off, and you took no offense; you just returned that stupidly kind smile and told him that if he needed anything, you were there for him.

You had no clue what he’s done, what he's capable of, and yet you treat him with the utmost respect. And being a mutant, respect, and kindness were two things he hadn’t received in a very long time.

It made him realize things—about himself and others. He started noticing you a little more—the way you looked and the way you acted. It started out as simple confusion and disgust… the typical reactions one would have when one sees an overly happy person.

But it evolved slowly into intrigue and curiosity.

Then something else. Something he couldn't describe.

His first instinct was to push it away. To try and convince himself, he was disgusted. He did this with everything he felt, but he couldn’t keep lying to himself.

It wasn't disgust.

He couldn't name it; he wasn't ready to, but he knew it wasn’t that.

Wade had noticed the change in him, the way he looked at you, the way he started being a little less rough with the words he chose to say. He didn’t bring it up, but the shit-eating grin he gave each time Logan walked in and saw you was more than enough proof that he had picked up on it.

Of course, it only resorted to grins because the one time he opened his mouth, Logan didn’t restrain himself. He popped his claws and had to go couch shopping the next day.

Whoops.

So, with Wade keeping his mouth shut after being chewed out by Blind Al and Logan trying his best to push away the foreign feelings, it finally reached a point where he could no longer ignore them.

He didn’t understand why, of all nights, it had to be this one, but it was.

It was 3 am, and his old nightmares had come back to haunt him. He was restless, sweaty, and couldn't take another second of sleep.

It took a rinsing of the bathroom sink and a pitiful glare at his reflection for you to return his gaze.

He froze for a second.

You were wearing a large T-shirt, with a pair of shorts underneath. Your hair was messy, but it looked so soft, and your face was clear of makeup, leaving the imperfections of your skin that made you all the more beautiful.

Always wearing a smile. Always greeting him with a soft voice, sometimes a little raspy if just waking up, butnonetheless soft.

But once he rubbed his eyes and let out a tired yawn, you weren’t there anymore.

Because you were never there, you lived across the street. You were in your apartment, sleeping, with no idea that, at that moment, the man who constantly told you to fuck off realized he couldn't stop thinking about you.

The same man who would grunt, scoff, and throw away every kind gesture now realized he secretly cherished them.

He stood there for a moment, just pondering his thoughts. His eyes were still on the spot he saw you in.

His head turned to the right, seeing the digital clock that rested on the nightstand.

3:02 am.

You were asleep…. most likely asleep. You would be unhappy if he came over and woke you up, wouldn't you?

He looked back at the sink.

You could be upset, but you could also be happy. You could give him that smile. That sweet, warm smile.

It would be worth it, right? Just for that?

3:04 am

He didn’t think about it. Not even for a second. Ironically, it started raining as if to test him, but the man was determined.

He put on a jacket to cover his bare chest, threw on some random shoes, and was out the door before his mind could stop him.

3:13 am

He knocked on your apartment door. He was completely drenched from the rain. His hair was messy, his jacket sticking to his body, and his shoes were so wet that the squelching sound they made was the only thing audible.

He heard shuffling. Soft steps coming closer. He could smell your scent. It shocked him how easy it was for him to recognize it.

You unlocked the door. Your brows furrowed in confusion.

His mental image of you being in sleepwear, messy hair, no makeup, had been confirmed. You were beautiful.

You had a tired look, one of the many looks he wasn’t used to. But it was still a good look, and it still held your signature kindness.

He had a feeling it would.

You didn't look too shocked, just tired and confused.

You spoke. "Logan, is…? Are you okay?"

Your voice was even softer than usual, the raspiness it held only making it more comforting.

You were genuinely worried about him, and it hit him then that he was being an asshole. Making you wake up in the middle of the night, and for what? Just because he wanted to see you?

Just because of that, he should’ve given you a reason. An explanation.

He should've asked. He should have done so many things differently, but he didn’t.

His head was in the clouds, and all he could think about was you.

You. That was all.

But his expression gave away that he was in a daze, and your worry only grew.

"Logan? What's wrong?"

You stepped out into the hallway and reached a hand to him.

His heart jumped a bit when you did so. It was just a gesture—one simple act of compassion.

He wasn't worthy of that, but he couldn't resist. He didn't want to.

Your fingers barely brushed against his upper arm before he moved. He grabbed your wrist.

His grip wasn't hard. His hold was gentle, as he had no intentions of hurting you. You could’ve easily pulled your arm away if you wanted to, but you didn't.

His eyes locked with yours. He wasn't sure what possessed him, but it felt so right, so he followed his instincts.

He tugged at your wrist, causing your body to fall into him. Your chest pressed against his. His arms wrapped around you, one hand cupping the back of your neck, the other resting on the small of your back.

The embrace was so sudden, and he knew the situation was far from ideal, but his senses were overflowed by your presence, your scent, your softness.

His chin rested atop your head, and his eyes fluttered closed.

It wasn’t the first time he ever hugged someone, but it was the first time he hugged someone in such a way. He held onto you tightly, his grip possessive but not painful.

He was afraid to let go.

He felt your hands press against his chest. You were probably going to push him away, he thought, and he tried to prepare himself. He told himself he would let you go because it was the right thing to do, yet he didn’t need to.

You hugged him back, and he almost lost his footing.

How long had it been since he last received a hug? Since the last time, someone held him and showed him affection?

Too long.

Your hands went inside his opened jacket and held onto him. Your fingers pressed against his skin, and your soft, warm breaths caressed his neck.

He could stay like this for eternity, and he would never grow tired of it.

Your voice reached his ears.

"Logan, did something happen?"

He had been standing there for quite a while. He wasn’t aware of how long. Time seemed to freeze around you, but he didn’t mind. He wasn't one to believe in such nonsense, but when it came to you, he was ready to accept it.

Your hand rested on his arm, and he knew you were subtly prompting him to move, and so he did.

He pulled away from the hug just enough to look at you.

Your lips were turned upwards. The corners of your eyes creased.

"Logan?"

It was then that his actions registered—how utterly close the two of you were, how intimately you were holding each other. He was already warm just from genetics alone, but now he felt everything around him heat up.

"I-"

He didn't know what to say. It was like he was back in that bar, drinking away every thought. He couldn't think. There was nothing. Nothing but the feel of your body against his.

But what truly sealed the deal was when he felt your thumb gently caress his knuckles. It was a small movement, barely noticeable, but it was centered exactly on the scars his claws made.

That little movement made his brain short-circuit. His hands twitched. His grip tightened. He held onto you with his entire body as if scared to let you go.

"What happened?"

You were patient with him. The fact that he hadn’t even answered any of your concerns said enough.

But, eventually, he did find some words to respond with. It wasn’t the answer you were searching for, but it was a response.

"Why are you always being so fucking kind?"

It was such a simple question, and yet the amount of pain it carried was overwhelming. He knew you could hear every word behind it. Every word he couldn't bring himself to say.

He didn’t deserve it. He wasn’t a good man. He did horrible things, and sure… he made an attempt to make up for it. To be better, but it couldn’t have been enough, could it?

You were still here, looking at him with those soft eyes.

Why couldn't you look at him the way he deserved to be looked at? Like he was a monster.

Why did you have to look at him with those goddamn beautiful eyes?

"You deserve kindness, Logan. We all do."

And then, your voice became even softer and a little shaky. Your hands went back to massaging his knuckles. His scars.

"Just because you see yourself a certain way doesn’t mean the rest of us do. I see the good in you. Always have since we first met."

You spoke so softly, yet your words were heavy with emotion.

"I know it's not easy, but try to have a little more faith in yourself."

You didn’t deserve the harsh words he always threw at you. You didn’t deserve any of his anger. You didn't deserve him.

"Why?" He repeated his question, his voice strained, and you didn't miss the way his jaw clenched. "Why should I?"

His arms loosened their hold around you; his hands moved down your sides, and his touch feathered light. He wasn’t sure what he was doing, but he couldn’t quite let go just yet.

You paid it no mind. Only staring back into his eyes with the same kindness he was so used to, the one he had grown to treasure.

"You have a right to feel the way you do, Logan. And I can't claim to understand what you've been through. I can't begin to imagine. But you are a good man. A little rough around the edges, maybe, but you’ve shown me time and time again that you're trying."

A smile crept its way onto your face, and a soft giggle escaped past your lips.

Now, to be fair, he was used to hearing your laughter. With your… odd sense of humor, it wasn’t an uncommon occurrence. But, this would be one of the firsts to add to his collection.

The one reserved for him and him only.

Your laughter wasn’t loud, or annoying, or anything like Wade's. It was soft, sweet, and oh-so pleasant.

You were looking at him. Staring up at him with such love and warmth. You didn't even realize it, but he did.

"Besides, who wouldn't be a little grouchy waking up to that handsome face every morning?"

And, now, he was repulsed by the unwelcome vision of a certain masked man making his way into his head. He was so disgusted by the thought he didn’t bother responding. He didn't want to.

So, instead, he moved.

He had a habit of moving on his own and not thinking about it. It went from his hands going to your sides, and now, his hands reaching out to press against the door behind you.

You were pinned against the door, and the way you looked at him didn’t change. Of course, it didn't. Your eyes were always kind. They always were.

You were leaning against the door. Looking at him, waiting.

And he stared back.

He was so close, and he was tempted to pull away. To take a step back and leave. It would be the best for both of you; at least, he thinks so.

He couldn't give you anything.

He had nothing.

There was only himself. His body. His mind. His past.

His claws, too, if that counted for anything.

But, besides those, there was nothing.

He wasn’t a bad man, but he wasn't good either. Not like you were. He couldn’t possibly begin to match you, not even if he tried.

Which is why he had no intention of trying.

Yet, even as he thought that, his body moved even closer. The dog tags he had never taken off since he was given them hung loosely, dangling in front of your face.

One of your hands was on his chest, the other gripping onto the material of his shirt.

"Logan."

You spoke his name so softly. Almost a whisper, and yet, the sound of it was all his senses were focused on.

Your gaze shifted between his eyes and lips, and the hand that had been holding onto his shirt moved, reaching up to his shoulder.

The touch was light, as if hesitant, and it caused him to lean even closer.

It was so close. You were so close. You had been before, but never like this. Never in the way he wanted.

He wanted you so badly.

And you were right there. Looking at him with those eyes, with a soft, tender smile, and with an expression he didn't recognize.

He knew that was an invitation. You were always an open book, and your body language was no different.

And it wasn't the first time you did so.

There were many times when you looked at him. Your eyes trailing over his face. Your gaze went downwards, lingering before you snapped out of it and looked away.

He always saw it, always knew it was there, but he just chose to ignore it. He wasn’t in the right mind, then. He was just another broken man, struggling to get by, trying his best.

Trying to find some meaning in his life.

But, even now, he was still hesitant. Even after coming all the way here and making his intentions clear, he struggled with it.

"Are you sure?"

Because you were so much better than him.

Because he could still remember the day the two of you met. How much of an asshole he was, how rude, how angry.

It wasn’t until the seventh time you approached him that he realized that he had met someone who genuinely, wholeheartedly cared.

It wasn't until the twentieth time you approached him that he finally accepted it.

He could never forget the way you smiled and spoke to him, even though he had given you no reason to.

"Hi, Logan!"

You would say.

"Good morning!"

You would wave.

"Have a nice day, Logan."

You would nod, even though the man himself chose to ignore you. Goddamn it. You were so much better than him.

Much purer. Much more innocent.

You had a heart of gold, and a soul as white as snow. You were so good, so kind, and the thought of soiling you, of ruining your light with his darkness, it scared him.

It was the sole reason he didn't give in, even now, with you offering yourself to him.

He didn't want to ruin you.

"Yes."

No hesitation. No second thoughts.

Your eyes were so kind. So full of love, and the same emotion reflected back in his own.

But, even with the clear sign of assurance, he still felt the need to create one last line of defense.

With the hand against the door, he peeled it back enough to have your eyes catch sight of the fist it made.

In a millisecond, he unleashed his claws and slammed his fist against the door, the sharp adamantium easily slicing through the wood, causing the door to crack.

And, yet, no reaction. Not a single flinch, not a wince, not even a hitch of breath.

You weren't afraid. Not at all. Even as the claws were mere inches from your face, you weren't scared.

The corners of your mouth twitched. Upwards, and it soon bloomed into a bright smile.

He retracted his claws, and gave you another once-over, just to be sure, and you responded by lifting your hand, grasping the metal chain hanging from his neck.

Your fingers grazed against the cool metal, and your smile softened before turning into a small grin.

"For a man who states he isn’t scared of anything, you sure have a lot of defense mechanisms, Logan."

Teasing. That was a new one for you.

He liked it.

"Say it again." Now, finally, you showed a different expression. Confusion mixed with curiosity. You were wondering what he meant. "My name."

"Logan."

For you, his actions were mere seconds. You had no time to process the feeling of his breath against your lips. The feeling of his stubble tickling your skin. The feeling of his warm, dry lips pressed against yours.

But, for him, it was a slow, steady motion. He took his time. He pulled you closer, his hands moving from the door and cupping the back of your head and your waist.

The kiss was soft. Gentle. Nothing rushed.

He held you like you were fragile. Like you were made of porcelain and could break at any moment. He could, theoretically, but he would rather go through Cassandra’s entire repertoire of torture than hurt you.

He lifted you up. Your legs wrapped around his waist, and your arms around his neck, his own pulling you closer, his fingers digging into your skin.

You tasted exactly how you were. Pure. Sweet.

Like heaven.

He was sure he was leaving that of the bitter alcohol he had downed on your lips, but you didn't seem fussy about it.

Not that he could focus on anything else, anyway.

He was too distracted by the way his tongue danced with yours.

Too focused on the taste of your mouth.

Too distracted by the way your hands made themselves a home in his wet hair. They would tug every once in a while, releasing a groan he hadn’t known was there.

He was too distracted to care.

He was too lost in your scent. Wade always called him that character from that shity vampire movie due to his nose.

He always disagreed until you happened to mention the resemblance. Then, and only then, did he see the logic.

And you saw the logic here, too—the logic of how good you melted together. Experiencing it now made him question his decision to stay away.

If it was always going to be this good, this intoxicating, he should’ve done it a long time ago.

He should've taken the chance.

It would've saved the two of you a lot of frustration, and a lot of headaches.

But it didn't matter. He was here now.

And, as his foot broke into the door, mouth still latched onto yours, with him figuring his way about your apartment, he thought:

It doesn't matter.

As long as I’m here.

As long as you’re in my arms.

It doesn't matter.

Fortunately, that meant he didn’t have to wake up to that toupee-stapled face every morning, as he had so dreadfully imagined.

Unfortunately, it also meant that the next time he saw Wade, he would have to deal with him talking his ears off about what had transpired.

But, for now, he could live with that.

He was more focused on the fact on making sure you weren’t regretting your choice.

Because he sure as fuck didn’t.

[foldingfittedsheets]

I’ve been fired exactly once in my life. In my early twenties I was working at a pizza place. The pizzas were artisanal, thin crust and personal. They’re a huge chain now but when I first started the company was in its infancy. It was the wild west of management, and the core investors would frequently stop by to check on things. One of these people was this round little man with rage issues. A knock off Danny Devito with no charisma at all.

His favorite thing to do was to come in on a Friday or Saturday night. We'd be at our stations: taking orders, making pizza, manning the oven, finishing orders off, running the cash register. He'd shove his way onto the line and start rearranging people. "You, get off orders and work the cash register, you come over and make the pizzas!" With a line of customers snaking out the door he'd throw off all our grooves and rattle us.

Then, inevitably, a mistake would happen.

When it did he'd call the person over and say, "Hey c'mere. You're fired." Just like that. No inflection, just a flat "You're fired." It was absolutely a power kink, and because of his involvement the average turn over was three months. You were a veteran at five months.

One night there was only three of us manning the front. I took an order than went to the cash register to ring them out before I made the pizza. This horrible man watched that then called me into the back. I didn't know if I was about to be fired. But I wasn't. In fact, he had one other move besides firing people. He yelled.

In the back he absolutely lost his mind screaming at me for being on the cash register. I'm talking veins popping, spit flying, red with rage, this man just started bellowing nonsensically about where I should be and how I was just such a failure. It was truly like his brain had shut off, nothing he was saying even made sense. I stood there in the face of this tirade for a minute and then set a record for being the first person to ever cut him short by bursting into tears.

He instantly stopped yelling and it was like Jekyll and Hyde. He was remorseful and consoling, deeply embarrassed by my display of emotion. All my male coworkers just took the abuse but faced with my weeping he about faced and instantly backed off. I went outside to cry and when I came back in he pretended it had never happened.

That was the state of things. The investors knew they desperately needed to keep this man out of the stores, but they couldn't just give him the boot. They needed to move him aside and fill his position with someone. The store manager was this lovely woman who had hired me on the spot at my interview. The entire staff adored her. She was the best fit to get this roided out investor out of the stores for good.

Her replacement was this man called Anthony. He was instantly loathed by the entire staff. Condescending, critical, and lazy he started off his reign by letting go a core lead who "back talked." He spent a whole morning berating the opening crew because the closing crew (who had sold 100 more pizzas than we were even supposed to have on hand) had forgotten to windex the doors. He left the entire crew to close without him while he flirted with a girl who wasn't his pregnant girlfriend. He hired his roommate to replace the lead he fired and even that guy hated his guts.

Our antipathy toward him made him paranoid and resentful and one by one he started finding excuses to fire the whole staff, certain that if he could clean house he'd be able to do the job. My time came, and he sat me down with his boss, my former manager. She cried as he announced I wasn't personable enough and used too many pepperonis.

I looked at her, the woman who had trained me on how many pepperoni to use, but she said nothing. What could she say? He was the boss now and had determined I was going to be let go regardless. Too many in this case was seven. Seven pepperonis on a personal pizza. The correct number was five according to him, which is one pepperoni per slice, and one in the middle.

I sat there for a moment, taking it in. I smiled at my old manager, obviously miserable. I looked back at him and said, "You're a terrible manager, you're doing the worst imaginable job." I outlined some of the things he'd done so she could hear them, then I stood up and left. I made it to the back room before I started crying.

I found out later through a bus boy that he replaced the whole staff with college kids who had such limited availability that the store couldn't run, then quit three months later leaving the whole place in shambles. Most of the old staff returned, but I'd moved onto the sex shop already and was enjoying a job with significantly less risk of being fired on a whim.

However I do have to disclose on job applications if I've ever been fired. I always says yes and list the reason as, "Excessive use of pepperoni." It has never failed to get a laugh from my interviewer.

[harrysfolklore]

lando norris being down bad for his girlfriend: a compilation

summary: lando norris can’t help but talk about his girlfriend whenever he cans, fans make compilation videos about it

MASTERLIST | MY PATREON

Lando Norris could be described as someone who's not scared of saying whatever crossed his mind.

And that's why he never, ever, missed the opportunity to talk about his girlfriend whenever he had the chance.

He mentioned her during interviews, press conferences, social media post and even fan interactions. To the point where fans started making compilation videos with all the moments he publicly obsessed over his girlfriend.

The most popular one gathered millions of views on YouTube, showing multiple occasions Lando couldn't help but be down bad for her.

The video started with a clip from Q&A with fans, someone asked him about his favorite way to relax after a race. Without missing a beat, Lando replied, "Cuddling up with my girlfriend, of course. Nothing beats that."

"You're really whipped man, It's embarrassing," Oscar, his teammate, teased beside him, making the audience laugh.

"It's not, really." Lando shrugged proudly.

The next clip was taken from McLaren's Tiktok account, their content creator tried to do the "Can you watch my ___ for a second" prank on Lando.

"Oh my girlfriend already did this prank to me," Lando said, laughing at the camera, "Baby, If you're watching this, I miss you. Your pranks are way better than McLaren's"

The video moved to show Lando during a post-qualifying interview, his suit hanging by his waist and his fireproofs showing, when asked about his strategy for the race, he cheekily replied, "Well, first I'm going to call my girlfriend for some good luck wishes. Then, I'll focus on getting to the front."

"Zak Brown should hire your girlfriend as your strategist then," the interviewer joked.

"That would be great but I don't think we would be getting any job done. You know what they say about mixing business with pleasure."

The next clip showed Lando with his friend and fellow driver Max Fewtrell, playing a trivia game about how well did they knew each other. Max had to answer what was Lando's worst habit.

"I'm going to say leaving dirty plates around the house," he said, showing his board, "You do mate, admit it."

"My girlfriend would agree on that," he admitted, "She's always complaining about it."

"I don't know how she's still living with you."

"Because she loves me, and I would die if she leaves me."

On the same note, a video of Oscar teasing Lando followed right after.

"Who's most likely to snore?" Lando read the question, and Oscar quickly put ut the cutout with Lando's face, "How are you so sure? You didn't even hesitate."

"Mate, I've heard you, plus your girlfriend literally complained about not being able to sleep properly last night because you kept snoring."

"I did keep her up last night, but it wasn't just because of the snoring," Lando said, a cheeky grin on his face.

"Put the not safe for work disclaimer at the beginning of this video please."

The next segment was from Lando's own Youtube channel, he was doing a little vlog in Miami before the race weekend.

"Hi everyone," he said, filming himself in the mirror with his camera, "Today I'm back with another LandoLog, I'm going to be filming some behind the scenes of this Miami weekend, so without further ado, let's go," he moved the camera around, focusing on his girlfriend who was putting some mascara on her eyelashes, "Here's my beautiful girl, who takes ages to get ready. Say hi baby."

"Hi everyone," his girlfriend waved, laughing, "I'm not taking ages, I'm just making sure I look good."

"You always look good for me," Lando said, giving her a quick kiss on the cheek before turning the camera back to himself, "See, I told you she's the best."

The next clip showed Lando and Oscar together once again, this time they were giving a tour around the McLaren hub.

"This is my driver's room," Lando said as he opened the door, "It's cleaner than Oscar's, clearly, and looks like I have a bed."

Lando moved to put together the small bed that was behind the door, "This is an upgrade from last year, we didn't have this. I'll be definitely giving it some good use, to nap or with my girlfriend."

"Can we have a video where you're not a horndog please?" Oscar said, putting his hands on his hips.

"You're the horndog, I never said what we were going to use it for, we're just going to cuddle."

The video moved to show one of Lando's post race interviews after winning the Miami GP, he had been asked ho would be the most excited person about this win besides him.

"My girlfriend, definitely. I couldn't have done it without her," Lando said, his voice filled with emotion, "She's been my biggest supporter, my inspiration, and my motivation. This win is as much hers as it is mine."

The video then cut to a scene from Lando's gaming stream with Max Verstappen. The two drivers were deep into a game of Call of Duty, their banter and laughter filling the screen. Lando was focused, his eyes glued to the monitor as he coordinated with Max.

Just then, Lando's phone buzzed on the table beside him. He glanced at the screen and his expression softened, the comment section noticing, "Hey, mate, I need to go. My girl needs me for something," he said, setting down his controller.

"Lando! Are you serious right now?" Max said, his eyes still glued to the screen.

"I am, see ya," he turned to the camera, smiling not so apologetically "Sorry, guys, duty calls. See you next time."

The last scene was a snippet from an interview, Lando had been asked what he saw in his future.

He paused, a soft smile playing on his lips. "Honestly? I see a lot of racing, hopefully some championships," he laughed, "but most importantly, I see her. I can't imagine my life without her."

The screen faded to black, showing a text that read: Get you a man who is as down for you as Lando Norris is for his girlfriend.