#they were in different states yesterday though

[fazcinatingblog]

Dunkley's 150th and I didn't write a Dunkley/treloar fic to celebrate. I've let down my family, friends, the entire AFL community

[ebodebo]

Nuts And Bolts

—mechanic!ghost with psychologist!reader…MDNI

Stepping out of your office and onto the town's bustling streets, you admire the Christmas decorations the city has set up. But, it does nothing to settle your soured mood.

Simon and you had gotten into an argument the previous night, and you haven’t heard or seen him since. You assumed he went to his car garage to let off some steam, but, as his wife, why the hell were you left to wonder about your husband’s whereabouts?

To set the scene, it had been an ordinary night. You had gotten off work before Simon, so you thought you would prepare a nice dinner with a glass of red wine.

Simon swings open the door as you season some vegetables, dawning an unpleasant expression. You turned to face him, raising a brow.

“What’s the matter?” You ask, setting your tongs down to walk over to him. He simply shakes his head and heads straight for your shared bedroom.

You tilt your head and head straight towards the bedroom after him, unable to let him writhe in his agony alone.

“Simon.” You stand in the doorway, observing him as he sits on the edge of the bed. He doesn’t so much as spare you a glance, making you worry.

You make your way to him and sit on the edge of the bed next to him. “You want to talk about what you’re feeling?” You insist, making him finally look at you.

“Stop it.” He firmly states. Your eyes widen at his tone.

“What?” You ask, keeping your tone soft to avoid antagonizing him.

“You’re tryin’ to do that shit again.” He scowls, standing up to walk back through the bedroom door. You quickly follow suit as he continues.

“Trynna’ pick my brain.” He walks over to the liquor cabinet and grabs a bottle of whiskey.

“Like I’m a fuckin’ patient.”

“No. I—” You intently pause, thinking. “Okay, you seem upset, stressed even.” You watch him grab a glass and pour some whiskey into it.

“Alcohol isn’t a good way to cope.” You say, adopting your signature calm voice you use on your patients.

He laughs dryly, even though the burning amber liquid coated his throat.

“And, there you go again.” He sighed, looking up at you.

“I’m trying to help you, Simon.” You insist, reaching out to gently grab his forearm, though he quickly retracts from your touch.

He lets out another dry chuckle before setting down his glass and walking to the coat rack to grab his coat. You attempt to question his whereabouts, but he fills in the space first.

“I don’t need a shrink. I need my wife.”

And, with that, he left. Leaving you to stare helplessly at the front door, not knowing where you went wrong and not knowing where to go from there.

You recounted yesterday’s events in your mind all day today, even during patient sessions. You always left your personal matters at the door, but this was different because you were genuinely dumbfounded.

Even walking out of work, you still thought about the whole ordeal. However, your thoughts were absolved when you saw the familiar mechanic shop sign out of the corner of your eye. They would be closed about now, but, knowing Simon, he would still be there.

You walk into the garage part to see a body under a truck, working on it. You delicately press the little bell, you insisted he get, on the desk closest to the doors.

“We’re closed.” God, it had only been a day, but you missed his voice.

“Even for me?” You question, feeling a little shy. He paused his movements before scooting himself out from under the truck. Your eyes shamelessly glazed over his body, looking at what he was wearing: an old white shirt covered in grease and gray sweatpants with oil marks.

“No, not for you.” He stated, the corner of his mouth quirking up as he grabbed an old rag to wipe his hands clean.

You gave him a half-smile. “Been working overtime, I see?” You try to keep your tone playful, but judging by how he slightly frowns, you can tell your voice has defiled you.

“We should talk.” He stated, with almost a cringe on his face. You nod and sit on a chair adjacent to him as he leans on the hood of the truck he was working on.

“I’m sorry.” He sighs out, clearly disappointed in himself. “Was havin’ a shitty day and brought it onto you.” You look up at him and give him a frown.

“I’m sorry, too.” He snaps his eyes to yours, a puzzled expression taking over his face.

“For what?” You gently tug on your bottom lip before answering.

“For treating you like a patient and not my husband. It’s not fair to you.” You sigh, avoiding his gaze.

“Sweetheart, look at me.” He lightly demands. You bring your head up and bring your eyes to lock with his.

“This isn’t your fault. I was bein’ a dick.” He walks over to you and reaches for your hand, which you grasp. He guides you from the chair so you’re standing before him, looking up at him.

“Are you gonna come home?” You softly question as he stares into your eyes, mentally kicking himself for making them look so sullen.

“Wouldn’t wanna be anywhere else.” He says, bringing his hand up to sweep a stray piece of your hair away from your face, leaning down to kiss your lips sweetly. You could feel your skin sizzle from only a slight touch, internally sighing as he pulled away to speak.

“Should get goin’ then.” He says, walking over to the truck's hood and gently slamming it shut. “Johnny’s gonna come check the exhaust.”

“When’s he coming?” You absentmindedly ask as you watch Simon slip off his white shirt, observing his toned body.

“Eh, half an hour.” He casually says, turning away from you to walk over to the cabinet to grab a clean white shirt.

“So, we’re alone?” You question, bringing your hands up to untie the front of your blouse.

“Uh, huh.” He agrees, still rummaging through the cabinets, back towards you. You hum a sign of approval as you open your blouse, then move to unclip your bra, your breasts spilling out as soon as you do.

He finally finds a clean shirt and turns toward you, eyes widening as he sees you, chest bare. Your pulse quickens as he stares, unsure of his thoughts. When he doesn’t speak for a moment, you start to lose the confidence you had garnered.

“Is it too much?” You shyly ask, starting to feel insecure. He can’t speak; his mouth has gone dry at the sight of you. He drops the shirt in his hand and walks over to you, bringing his hand up to trace the curve of your breast.

“Fuck.” He manages to get out as your breathing becomes more ragged and your pupils dilate at the sensation.

“It’s never too much.” He answers your earlier question, cupping the bottom of your breast, making you sigh. You bring your hands up to grip his shoulders as he caresses your breast.

He leans to press a hot kiss onto your lips as he rolls your nipple between his pointer and thumb, making you moan into his mouth. He roughly grips the back of your thighs and picks you up, your legs instinctively wrapping around his waist as he hauls you over to the hood of the truck.

He hikes up your skirt and hurriedly connects his lips back to yours before kissing down your neck, gently sucking on the tender skin, making you whine. He sinks to his knees in front of you, bringing one hand up to grab ahold of your calf, raising it slightly so he can slip the heel off your foot.

Once he gets one heel off, his other hand drifts to your other foot, slipping the heel off as he plants kisses up your ankle, and calf, stopping at your mid-thigh before nipping at the pantyhose encasing your cunt with his teeth, making a tiny hole. He slightly raises his hands and uses his pointers to split the pantyhose further.

“Hey! Those were Falke.” You urge, referring to the German-made, almost three-hundred dollar silk tights he had soiled.

“I’ll buy you more.” He amends, gripping the waistband of his sweatpants and boxers, slipping them down simultaneously. His cock immediately shot up, so visibly hard. You brought your hands to gently pump him up and down as his hands went to massage your tender breasts.

He groans at the contact, gripping your breast a little firmer. You moan at that contact, pulling his cock a little firmer.

“You’re killin’ me, baby.” He chokes out, gripping the back of your neck as he roughly kisses your lips. With your hands still on his cock, you gently pull him closer by it, making him hiss as you guide it to your slit.

“I need you in me.” You whine as he brings his hand to twirl in your hair. In one swift motion, he thrusts into you. You both groan at the swift contact, even throwing your heads back.

His movements continue; over and over again, he thrusts into you, making you dig your nails into his skin, desperate for stability. You knew you wouldn't last long and could tell Simon wouldn't either. It has been only been a God-damned day, and you ached for him. Nothing but him would suffice your craving.

“So, fuckin’ good, baby. So, fuckin’ good.” He gruffly repeated, making you clamp around him tighter until you felt that familiar all-consuming euphoria you had so ached for.

As you reached your peak, Simon followed suit, coming with your name on the tip of his tongue. You were both panting, even after both of your orgasms subsided. You looked up at him as he tied your blouse back so your breasts were concealed, bra be damned.

“You did good.” You praised as he reached down to pick up your abandoned skirt from the floor.

“Yeah?” He lightly laughed out, finding humor in your statement.

“Yeah.” You nod as he grips your waist and pulls you off the hood of the car.

“Can you walk?” He questions, his hands still on your waist to help steady you as he carefully slips on your skirt.

“No. Might need you to carry me.” You sigh as you bring your hand up to fake an anguished expression.

“Uh, huh.” He rolls his eyes, though they contain no actual annoyance, as he goes to pick you up bridal style.

“Let’s get you home, Drama.”

a/n: this is the pipeline i’m here for

ur honor i’m just a girl

reblogs & comments are encouraged!

[dreamescapeswriting]

All Warmed Up ~ BC

WORD COUNT: 2.7K

GENRE: angst with a fluffy ending, chan not realising/ignoring that the reader is sick, sick reader, caring for you, Noway I'd forgive him wihtout some major grovelling tbf though

PAIRING: Chan x Fem!Reader

⤜Copyright: © DreamEscapesWriting - January 2024

⤜MASTERLIST

For days this headache had been brewing for you, it had started as nothing more than a dull pain in the front of your head but as time went on it continued to get worse and worse until you could barely stand it anymore. You’d called in sick to work for days now and it was getting to the point where your boss was beginning to get annoyed with you for it, not that you could help it when your body decided to make you ill though.

Normally you weren’t the type to let some sort of bug or flu keep you down but this one seemed to be knocking you down again and again and it was a struggle for you to even keep your eyes open. It was hard for you to even go to the bathroom without feeling so light-headed you were going to fall so you held onto the walls whenever you walked.

“Channie?” You coughed out as you heard him getting up, or getting in you weren’t entirely sure what time it was since the blackout curtains were still drawn shut keeping everything out. It was the only thing keeping your headache somewhat muted at this point and you were doing everything to keep any form of light out of your way. Your phone hadn’t been turned on since yesterday and you were laid in complete darkness, something that seemed to be helping you an awful lot lately.

“What are you doing in bed?” Chan grumbled a little harshly as he made his way over the windows throwing the curtains open and blinding you instantly as you let out a choked whine. 

“I’m sick.” You grumbled pulling the sheets over your head but it was as though he’d not heard you as he grabbed his bag and pulled his laptop free from his bag. You knew he’d been working harder than usual lately since their new album was dropping any second but this was somehow different to any other comeback stress you’d seen your boyfriend under.

He’d barely had time to look away from the screen to eat, let alone look at you and see the state that you were in and you didn't hate him for it. The two of you had an understanding that when he was so busy you weren't going to hear from him much, but knowing he was alive and eating was enough for you when he was in comeback mode. 

But it annoyed you as to why he was asking why you were home, you’d told him all week that you hadn’t been feeling well, texting him that you were home and for him to be quiet when he came in but all of the notifications were read but never replied to. Hell, you'd even asked him to pick you up some cold patches and he had. Had he forgotten you were sick that quickly?

You didn’t take it to heart since you knew he was busy but it started to grate you that he didn’t even act as though he cared that you were so sick. Not that you were doing it to gain his attention but to know your boyfriend cared wasn't too much to ask, was it?

Chan mumbled something you didn’t quite hear before slipping his headphones onto his head and starting to work on his laptop, you slowly peeked out from under the blankets and groaned as the sun felt like it was burning your eyes into raisins. 

“Fuck,” You grumbled reaching to the bedside cabinet for the sunglasses you’d kept nearby for when you had to venture to the bathroom and you slid them on slowly standing up. The clock on the wall said it was almost nine which meant you were once again not going to work and you needed to phone your boss.

“Have you seen my phone?” You mumbled out, searching around the bed for when you last saw it but it was nowhere in sight and it wasn’t even on the bedside cabinet either. You could have sworn you left it near you last night for when you were eventually going to need to use it again.

“Channie?” You asked out before tapping his shoulder and a very annoyed-looking Chan turned to look at you. There were bags under his eyes and you could bet he hadn't slept the night before,

“What?!” He bit out, staring at you and waiting impatiently for you to ask him whatever it was.

“Have you seen my phone? I need to call in sick.” You didn’t even react to his angry voice, you didn’t have the energy to.

“You’re calling in sick again?” Disbelief masked his tone as he turned his head back to look at the screen,

“I can barely move without feeling dizzy and I have this giant headache,” You groaned rubbing your temples a little before Chan pulled his headphones over his head.

Maybe he somehow thought you weren’t going to hear him but the next sentence made your heart break into a million tiny pieces,

“You need to get over yourself, there are people worse off that are still going to work.” At this point, between him not even acknowledging that you were sick and his words it felt as though your heart had just been put through a paper shredder and you didn’t know what to do with yourself.

The response you had for him died in your throat when you saw him going straight back to working on his project. Somewhere inside of you, you knew that he was just acting out of stress but it didn’t stop the achingness you were now feeling inside of you. And maybe he was right? People did go to work when they were sick but you’d never been one of those people, you could barely function when a migraine came on and you would always take time off to start trying to feel better. 

So instead of phoning in sick you moved to the wardrobe very shakily, changed into some work clothes and carefully made your way out of the house and into the street. With how dizzy you were feeling you grabbed a cab not wanting to put anyone else or yourself in danger if you were to drive to work.

After a few hours of working in his room, Chan finally slipped off his headphones and smiled to himself pretty proud of how everything had come together. It was done and it was good, perfect even but he would never admit that. Everything was composed and edited and ready to be put into an album for review with the company and he couldn’t have been any happier with how it had gone. Now all he wanted to do was celebrate with you, go out and grab some food and then come back and do nothing for a few days since he would have some time off.

“Yn?! I finished, do you wanna go out and grab some food?” He called out as he walked out of the bedroom expecting to find you on the sofa but the house was quiet and cold and you were nowhere in sight. 

“Yn?” He tapped on the bathroom door before opening it and finding it empty and panic began to wash over him, if you weren’t in the house where were you? You should have finished work hours ago and been home long before now. Sprinting back to your shared room he grabbed his phone to check where you were and he had missed calls from unknown numbers and a few from the boys. But there was a blinking voicemail at the top of his screen.

“Hello Mr Bang, this is Doctor Kush from Seoul General Hospital, we have Miss Yln here and you’re listed as her emergency contact, please contact us again on this number.” Dread began to crush Chan like a ton of bricks and he tried calling your phone only it was going straight to voicemail, next he was calling the boys who appeared to be ignoring his calls. 

“I’m fine Lix,” You hissed trying to get out of the hospital bed but his hands kept pushing you back to lie down on the bed shaking his head at you. You'd wished they'd not called anyone but you'd been out cold so you couldn't tell them not to call anyone for you.

“I need to go to work, I’m fine.” It was a lie and you knew it but the words Chan had said to you kept bouncing around in your head and you couldn’t stop them. In a sick twisted way, your head was telling you to prove him right, that you could go it and go to work when you were sick and you couldn’t see just how wrong he was.

“I will ask them to sedate you if you don’t lay down right now.” Felix’s voice was stern and you stared at him with his unblinking eyes and knew that he was serious with his threat.

“What were you even thinking going to work?” after the hospital couldn’t get hold of Chan they’d called your second emergency contact in your phone which happened to be Felix who was a little overprotective of you. The two of you were close with one another and had been ever since you'd started dating Chan he was like a brother to you and you adored the relationship you had with him.

“I thought I felt better.” Felix didn’t believe it for one second as he noticed your top lip twitch and your nose wriggle, a clear sign that you were lying to him.

“And the real reason?” Felix stared at you and the two of you failed to notice that Chan was standing at the door and panting heavily out of breath. He'd been running from the car park and up the stairs since the elevators were taking too long for him to even get inside.

“There are people worse off than me that still go to work, so I should get over it and go.” The words drove a knife through Chan’s chest, almost as much as seeing you hooked up to an IV did and he felt as though he was going to throw up.

He hadn’t expected you to hear him and he didn’t even know why he’d said it to you, it wasn’t as though he’d meant it - not to you at least, never to you. 

Of all people, Chan knew just how bad your migraines got to you but he’d just been so stressed with work and he’d been hearing people complain about how sick they were, too sick to help him edit the album and he snapped. It was wrong and he was going to make it up to you every second of every day for the rest of his life if you let him.

“Yn, I’m sorry.” You and Felix’s heads snapped in his direction and you quickly looked down at your hands on the bed, you didn't want to face him right now or for a while at least. It pained you to think of everything he'd said back at home,

“What happened?” Chan asked you but you refused to even look at him so Felix stepped in, clearing his throat as he told Chan everything that the doctors had told him.

“She passed out at work and fell down a flight of stairs,” Felix explained and you grimaced a little. You'd just made it inside the building and got to your floor before passing out, part of you was thankful it wasn't in the street since that would have been even more embarrassing. 

“What?!” Chan's eyes widened as he stared at you, searching for any signs of broken bones or injuries but you were just laid in bed with an IV in your arm.

“She’s fine, her migraine is worse so they're treating her with acetaminophen and she has a sprained ankle but it could have been a lot worse.” It could have been, Right now you would have given anything to still be passed out so you didn’t have to face Chan but you knew it was inevitable.

“I’ll give you some time alone.” The door to your room slid shut and you slowly looked up to see your boyfriend looking at you with tears in his eyes.

“I’m sorry-” Chan tried to say but you didn't want to hear it,

“Save it.” You hissed out, staring at him as he shook his head as if he was trying to find the words to say.

“But I am, I’ve just been-”

“Stressed?” You finished with a scoff, you wanted to shake your head but any movement you made honestly made you feel as though you were going to fall over again. 

“I’ve heard the same excuse time and time again Chan and it’s getting harder for me to forgive every time,” Your voice cracked as you got the words out and Chan sat on the chair beside your bed, holding your hand in his as he ran his fingers over your skin.

“I was spiteful and rude. I took out my anger from everyone else on you and it’s not fair.” He admitted,

“True.” You mumbled as he lifted your hand to his lips and softly placed a kiss on your skin, smiling weakly as he thought about it. There were going to be no words he could even express to tell you how sorry he was,

“Everyone at work had been calling in sick when they were fine and I just snapped. It was wrong and nasty but I just-”

“Let the dame break and I was collateral damage?” You mumbled bitterly before looking at him and he nodded at you slowly.

“And I will do everything I can to make it up to you.” You smirked a little at the thought of what you could get out of him and he watched you closely,

“Spoiler for the new album?”

“Anything but that.” He groaned, you knew he would never be allowed to no matter how much you begged.

“Take me home?” You knew he was sorry for what he’d said and it was still going to take a while before you got over it but all you wanted right now was to go home and be in his arms.

“I’ll talk to your doctor.” He whispered before gently kissing the top of your head and walking out of the room to go and find someone who knew your case.

Since coming home from the hospital Chan had been a completely different person toward you, work was wiped completely from his mind and he had been caring for you every second of the day. The night you'd come home from the hospital he'd run you a bath but used a baby thermometer to check that the water wasn't too hot for you to get into and wouldn't let you bathe alone.

The whole time he'd been there, he'd washed your body for you and helped make sure your hair didn't get wet. After that, he'd taken you to bed where he got you a warm hot water bottle to place on your ankle and changed it to ice whenever he needed to.

Now was no different, besides the fact that you felt completely fine and well enough to go back to your normal day-to-day business.

“You know I feel fine now right?” You asked as Chan tucked you into a blanket on the sofa and placed a hot drink on the table that was within arm's reach of you. 

“I just want to make sure.” He mumbled as he pushed play on your comfort film and went to go and get his own hot drink.

“Chan, the doctor gave me the all-clear four days ago.” you reminded him but he pouted at you in response making you giggle at him. You knew he was sorry for the way he had treated you and this was one of the only ways he was able to make it up to you so you were doing your best to let him.

“I love you,” You told him as he cuddled up under the blanket with you, holding your hand before squeezing it softly.

“I love you too.” He whispered, holding you close to him not wanting to let you go for even a second.

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[msgexymunson]

Dr E. Munson, D.D.S

Description: praise from your dentist is the last thing you thought would stoke your passions. During another meeting, intoxicated after surgery, you accidently tell him how he makes you feel. 

Warnings: Fluff, angst and smut, my favourite trio. NSFW Minors DNI, reader mid 20s and Eddie mid to late 30s but not explicitly stated, no real time given implied 90s but written as open, reader is AFAB, no use of Y/N, tooth extraction (don’t worry it's not gory), little to no knowledge of the dental industry (please don't come for me I tried my best), fem oral receiving, overstimulation, massive praise kink, p in v protected sex.

A/N: Well, the tale of my praise kink being activated at the dentist appears to have struck a chord with you all, so as unbelievable as this is, just go with it. Eddie's a dentist. Not just a dentist, but a soft pleasure dom dentist ;) I tried to make it believable!! Also, I can't write short fics anymore. I gotta get elaborate before I get into the good ole porn. 

🖤 Comments and reblogs are my lifeblood, please reblog if you want me to keep writing, it really makes my day sweethearts. 🖤

8.8K words

Masterlist

Fidgeting restlessly with your rings, your leg shakes compulsively as you sit in the sterile waiting room. You really wish you didn't have to go through this alone, but your best friend Alex is working and you are far too old to be going to the dentist with your mom. 

Needs must, though. Yesterday, whilst you were eating one of your nieces candy suckers of all things, you bit down and shattered a wisdom tooth. Just thinking about it you can see Dr Burke's stern face, with his ridiculously bushy eyebrows and wrinkled frown, telling you off for eating too much sugar. 

When the perky receptionist calls your name and instructs you to go to room 2, you're a wobbling bubble of nerves. Walking over the cheap linoleum on click clack heels, you pause for a moment outside the door in confusion. 

The little plaque on the wooden door is different. It used to hold old Dr Burke's name on it, but it's changed. 

Dr E. Munson, D.D.S.

Swinging the door open, you see a much younger man sitting on a swivel stool looking over some notes. His hair is long and wavy, so long he's scraped it into a low ponytail, and there's a sprinkle of stubble over his face. As he looks up, you're met with the deepest, most soulful brown eyes you've ever seen. And is that, an eyebrow piercing? He flashes a grin, one filled with such mischief that for a second you forget why you're here. 

“Well hello! You must be my next patient. Take a seat right here.” 

He pats the treatment chair but you still stand gormlessly by the door. 

“You're not Dr Burke.”

Well done idiot, state the obvious.

“Seems your eyesights OK.” 

He shoots a wink at you which immediately turns your insides to jello. 

“Dr Burke retired actually. I'm Dr Munson, I just moved to the city. You can call me Eddie.” 

He extends a hand out to you. Shuffling forward in your pencil skirt you click your way over to him and take his hand. It's huge, enveloping your own, but he holds your hand with care and shakes it very gently. 

He lets go to wash his hands and put a pair of latex gloves on. 

“You know you don't have to dress up to go to the dentist, but it's appreciated.” 

Is he flirting with me? 

“I-I was at work this morning.” 

You perch on the seat and pull your legs up, sliding your handbag to the floor. 

“So, what seems to be the problem?” 

“I was, well…” 

“It's OK sweetheart, I ain't gonna tell you off.” 

Sweetheart? Oh Holy Shit. 

You found yourself clenching your toes in your heels. This guy is far too hot to be a dentist.

“I was eating a sucker and I, well, I bit down, broke my back right wisdom tooth. It shattered.”

He scoots his stool towards you and instructs you to open your mouth. As he examines you he hums, feeling inside your mouth with a gloved hand. 

“Yup, that's broken up alright. I'm sorry, that must be painful. Don't worry, I'll do my best to help. I'm gonna do an x-ray, that OK?” 

“Yeah.” 

Pulling a little plastic T instrument from his desk, he wheels back over.

“Now, this is going to be uncomfortable, and I'm real sorry. Open your mouth and I'll slide it in gently.” 

Face flickering a violent shade of red, you nod. Surely he's aware of how this sounds?

“OK, open wide, that's it.” 

He puts the little contraption in your mouth.

“OK, now bite down. I know, it's uncomfortable. It'll just take a second. That's it, just breathe for me.” 

It's not intolerable but it's not exactly nice. A moment before it would have been too much he takes it out. 

“That's it, did so good for me. Well done sweetheart.” 

Now, this is not the fucking time to have these sorts of feelings. A heat had started  spreading between your legs that you haven't felt for quite some time. 

“Hmm,” Eddie said as he looked at the x-ray, “I definitely need to remove those pieces. I'm a bit concerned about the tooth above it. That's got a cavity, it'll need to be removed, but it'll need surgery I'm sorry to say.” 

“Surgery? Oh God.” 

“Hey, it'll be alright. I'd do it now but it's too risky. Never had to go into surgery before?” 

Laughing nervously, you fiddle with your fingers. 

“I've never had a tooth removed! I'm a tooth removal virgin.” 

The words just flew out and there was nothing you could do to pull them back. Eddie leaned in a little, a cheeky glint in his eye. 

“Well, then I'll be extra gentle.” 

A stare that's a fraction too long, and he scoots back over to his desk. Not long after he's got a needle in his hand.

“Now, I'm gonna need to numb the area, and this is going to be painful. But once this is done, that's the worst of it. If you need me to stop at any point, you just raise your hand. That OK?” 

“Sure, do what you need to.”

“Atta girl, so brave for me. Open your mouth wide.” 

My good God this man and his words; you can picture yourself on your knees in front of him as he says the same things.

Atta girl, take it a little deeper, that's it, so good for me… 

Squirming hotly in your seat, you do as instructed and his gloved fingers invade your mouth once more. 

“OK, you're gonna feel a sharp scratch, it'll go on for a few seconds, doing it now… good girl.” 

As he says ‘good girl’ two things happen. He injects your gum, and you flood your panties. The pain is inconsequential at this point, you just want him to keep talking to you like that.

“OK, one more sweetheart… that's it, so brave, look at you, taking it so well.” 

He stares at you with those soft brown eyes and once again you forget entirely why you're here. 

“Now, you should start to feel your lips tingle, it'll mean it's working.” 

Your dirty mind can't help but think; which lips? 

As a numbness invades your mouth, you let him know. 

“Yeah, it's definitely working.”

“Good stuff. Now, I'm gonna feel in your mouth again, OK?”

You nod, beyond words, and he puts his fingers in your mouth. 

“Now, if you need me to stop, what do you do?” 

Sheepishly you hold your hand up.

“That's it, atta girl. Such a good listener.” 

Nothing you can do but beam inwardly at the praise.

“Now, you can feel me right here, but there should be no pain, yeah?” 

Resisting the urge to moan around his fingers, you make a sound akin to a muffled ‘uhuh’.

“Awesome, now just hold still, you'll hear some crunching and feel pressure, and then it'll be done.” 

As he pulls a shiny implement from a tray and starts working the tooth shards from your mouth, you focus on his forehead, at the look of total concentration. How the lines on his forehead furrow. How his beautiful eyes harden slightly. How his perfect pink tongue dips out… 

“All done.” 

“Huh?” 

He laughs, a rich, bubbling thing, and nods.

“Yup. You're good. Need to make an appointment at the desk for the other tooth though.”

“Will you be doing that?” 

It rushes out in a blather which you can't control. 

“Sure thing sweetheart. Just ask at the desk for me.” 

“OK. Thanks.” 

“Not a problem. Got to be there for my favourite patient.” 

He flashes another wink at you which seems to rush straight to your knees as you get up and leave on newborn foal legs. Reaching the door, you hear his voice ring out behind you. 

“And what should we do with suckers next time?” 

Turning to face him, he raises an eyebrow, awaiting your response with the most serious expression he's given you so far. 

“I should… suck?” 

“Yeah you should.” 

A mind altering grin later and he's turning back to his desk. 

I should suck? What the hell is wrong with you! You need to get laid like, yesterday.

********************

It's a couple of weeks later and you're laying in the most unflattering hospital gown known to man with your best friend Alex who is trying to distract you. 

“Honey, you'll be fine, they're putting you under! It's like, free drugs!” 

You laugh at his antics, smiling with nerves. 

“It's not the surgery, its-” 

You hear mumbling in the doorway, two nurses gossiping in what they must think is out of earshot. 

“Did you hear? Dr Munsons performing the surgery?” 

“Yeah, he's not even supposed to be here. I hear Dr Stevens is pissed.” 

As they walk away, continuing their whispering, you look over to Alex who is smirking at you. 

“Oh, so he's not even supposed to be here? Ooh he likes you!” 

You blush, thinking about the other day. 

“No! I… I asked for him, that's all. You know I don't like this sort of shit.”

“Ah, so you thought Dr Dreamy would make it bearable huh?” 

“Shut up!” 

Dr Munson walks in then, smiling that smile that held a firm grip on your panties. Alex's eyes widen as he mouths the word ‘hot’ to you. You subtly nod your agreement and then smile at Eddie.

“Well, fancy seeing you here.” 

“Couldn't stay away,” you respond, rolling your eyes. He chuckles back and looks you up and down. 

“I told you sweetheart, no need to get dressed up for me.” 

“What, this old thing?”

You share a laugh whilst Alex's eyebrows raise practically through the roof. This is clearly crossing some line, this banter between you, but he's the doctor and he started it. 

Soon, the procedure has been explained and they're wheeling you out of there and putting you under anaesthesia. 

“OK, good job, such a brave girl. Now, countdown from ten for me.”

“Ten, nine, eight…” 

********************

Blinking bleary-eyed, you look around and catch the eye of your friend. 

“She's awake! You OK?” 

You are OK. In fact, you're fantastic. 

“I'm great! M'I goin’ in surgery now?” 

“You've been, it's done! It's all fine.”

“Huh?” 

A fantastically handsome man walks in, entirely distracting you. Long hair, sparkling eyes, a gorgeous smile, and a slender tall frame. He's so hot. Wait, you can just say he's hot, right? 

“Wow, wh'ryou? You're suuuper hot.” 

He laughs, looking a little embarrassed. 

“I'm Dr Munson, remember? Eddie. The er, drugs will wear off soon.” 

“Eddie!” 

You sit up immediately, despite the hands that shoot out to keep you still. 

“Now, take it easy, the ketamine makes people act a little funny. How are you feeling?”

“M’great! All… floaty like. S’good shit.” 

Eddie laughs as Alex holds his head in his hands. 

“Good to hear. It'll wear off soon, I'm sure your boyfriend will take good care of you.” 

“Nooo he's n’my’boyfrien’. He's suuuper gay. Ya’single? I no’had- not had any for nine months!” 

Alex pipes up. 

“Honey, you know I love you, so much, but you need to shut your mouth.” 

Eddie laughs, flashing his perfect teeth. 

“He's got a point. Glad you're doing good, the surgery went smoothly, so you'll be good to go in a few minutes.”

“Thank's'much Eddie. God, you're s’gorgeous. Did I do good?” 

Eddie looks like he wants to be anywhere but here. 

“Course you did. The best. That's why you're my favourite patient.”

Holding your hand up to your mouth and doing the worst stage whisper known to man, you look at Alex. 

“See? Tol’ ya, his wors’ make me wet.” 

“...aaaand that's the line. Thanks for taking care of her Dr Munson, I'll get her home safe.” 

With protests from you, Eddie shuffles awkwardly out of the room. After a little while you're discharged, with Alex promising to look after you until you're back to normal.

********************

The strong coffee aroma assaults your nostrils; you take a massive inhale of your cup as if the caffeine could be absorbed by smell alone. The coffee shop was busy this Saturday morning but you'd managed to carve out your little comfy seat and tiny table so you can work on your writing. It was a relief after the busy week you've had to actually focus on something you love. 

The noises and chatter of the place wash over you as you zone out, thinking of how to handle the plot twist coming up. It needed to be thoughtful, but unforced, as if the characters… 

“Well, if it isn't my favourite patient.” 

“Huh?” 

You look up and see a very familiar pair of eyes. Eddie. The rest of him however, looks very different. 

Eddie's in an old Iron Maiden t-shirt, worn with age, and tight black jeans. A chain hangs low at his hip, and his large hands are adorned with silver rings. His hair is loose and unkept around his shoulders, but his signature smile still beams at you. His forearms are on display, covered in tattoos. It's certainly not what you were expecting. How did he just get even hotter? 

Remembering what Alex told you about how you made an utter fool of yourself brings you out of your revelry. The stuff you said to him after surgery makes you visibly cringe. You were torn between wanting to ask him out and wanting the ground to swallow you whole. 

Cheeks blazing with heat, you find your voice.

“Eddie! Er, hi.” 

“You mind if I sit here? It's pretty packed.”

Gesturing at him to make himself comfortable, he swings his leg over the stool opposite and sits down, mug of steaming coffee in his hands. 

“What brings you here?” 

“Well, I write. As a hobby, you know? Needed to get out of the house and get some done. And you?” 

He points a thick finger across the street and you gulp in your throat, remembering the feel of those fingers in your mouth. 

“There's a record store across the way, I was scouting for anything I've missed. Unlucky today it seems.” 

It was weird seeing him here. Like when you see a teacher in the wild. Except you're not a kid, and the teacher is fucking fine. 

You nod and share a very uncomfortable silence. 

“Listen, I'm sorry for anything I said-” 

“Hey, don't worry about it sweetheart, it was the drugs. Trust me I've heard some weird shit!”

He seems to shrug it off and you breathe a sigh of relief. The last few weeks all you've managed to think about is how much of a fool you've made of yourself. Hopefully he's chalked it all up to the drugs. No need for him to know you were speaking the truth.

“I gotta say, you don't look like a dentist.” 

Eddie laughs, a perfect deep laugh that has you squirming in your seat. 

“Yeah, I get that alot. I er, used to get beat up when I was a kid. I got punched real hard once, broke my jaw. It was wired shut for like six weeks. After that, well, you find some respect for dentistry. Thought I'd give it a shot, went to school. Seems I have a knack for it. I have an impeccable bedside manner, apparently. Or so I'm told.” 

I'll say. 

“I can- I can see that.” 

He blazes a grin at you that damn near combusts your insides. And that's what you blame for the thing that's about to fall out of your big mouth.

“Listen, I know this is crazy but can I have your number?” 

What the fuck are you doing?? Hitting on your dentist?

It seems your word vomit was indeed something that happened in real life and not just in your head. Eddie looks pained as he warms his hands on his coffee mug. 

“Listen, sweetheart, you're a very pretty girl but… I can't. It'd be wrong of me, you're my patient and-” 

“No, I get it, it was dumb, ignore me.” 

You grab your belongings at the speed of lightning and stuff everything into your bag. 

“Hey, sweetheart, wait, I literally ca-” 

Hell no. 

You've made more of an idiot of yourself than you're prepared to be comfortable with. Now, cheeks burning hotly you shoulder your heavy bag and bustle out of the store, leaving an open mouthed Eddie sitting there with his arm outstretched.

********************

Today was the cherry on top of the icing on top of the cake of embarrassment. You've never asked a guy for his number before and the first time you do you're shot down? Confidence well and truly knocked, you called around and found a new dentist, and then called your old dentist's office to let them know. There was no way you could face Eddie again after you'd made a fool of yourself three times. 

In an effort to cheer yourself up after that disastrous rendezvous, you'd dressed up, put on your highest heels paired with your shortest skirt and a red silk blouse, and went out for a night on the town. 

Now, you don't make a habit of sitting at the bar on your own. You've dealt with enough creeps in your time to know that it was a bad idea. However, when it comes to your friends, you can give a little leeway. 

Hence why you sat in your very short black skirt, heels tapping on the little rail on the bottom of the bar as you sip your Manhattan, watching your friend Alex out the corner of your eye have a make-out session with his new boyfriend. They were sitting at a table just to the right; you were on a barstool giving them a couple feet of privacy. 

It was getting a little old though. In the past half an hour three men had approached you. You can't lie to yourself, it was the reason you'd agreed to be a third wheel in the first place. Trying to manifest the right kind of man clearly wasn't working however. 

The first guy looked around twelve, with the wispiest facial hair you've ever seen. As he'd nervously bumbled a line at you, you told him you've never seen a theoretical moustache before. That saw the back of him. Contestant number two was the sleaziest douchebag in the whole bar, perhaps the entire city. He was the hardest to deal with; you'd ended up just turning away and ignoring him until he'd left. Number three was some balding, middle aged man with a pot belly and a stained tie. Exhausted by the previous two, you interrupted his practised line with one clear and concise ‘No’.

Almost certain that your date tonight would involve you with your vibrator, you order another cocktail. On your left directly next to you a guy starts leaning on the bar and calls to the bartender. 

“Hey Jack, can I get a beer please, and whatever this lovely girl is drinking.” 

Rolling your eyes and turning to look at contestant number four, ready to tell them to fuck right off, you realise its Eddie. Of course it fucking is. The universe seems to have a horrible sense of humour today. He's still in his jeans and boots, but now sporting a burgundy shirt with the sleeves rolled up. Stupid dentist and his stupid hot tattooed forearms. 

“Are you following me? I don't need a pity drink thanks, I'm good.” 

You reach into your purse to pay for the drink you ordered but Eddie already has cash in his hand. He pays for it anyway and leans on the bar facing you. 

“It's not pity, it's an apology for earlier. And I think you're the one following me, I live two floors up.” 

Lips pressed into a firm line, you stir your drink with its cocktail stick and pretend that dentists don't exist.

“You can't just ignore me, you know.” 

Taking a sip of your drink you continue to stare resolutely forward. 

“OK, you can just ignore me, but I'd like it if you didn't.” 

Another sip, and you pull the little cherry off its stick and chew it. 

“So, you got a thing for dentists or is it just me, sweetheart?” 

That's it, you turn angrily to face him and scowl. 

“That's totally unfair you can't just-”

“Ha, got ya talking.” 

He's grinning at his little victory, laughter lines creasing near his eyes. If your eyes could shoot daggers you're sure he would have died from blood loss at this point. 

“Listen, I'm sorry, OK? I would have said yes in a fucking heartbeat, but I could lose my license.” 

Your eyes soften; he's clearly telling the truth and it does make sense. His licence hadn't even entered your mind. 

“I understand. Sorry for being rough on you.” 

“Don't worry about it. I just thought I better clear the air if I'm gonna be your dentist.” 

“Oh, don't worry about it. You're not.” 

“Huh?”

Looking down at the bar and drawing circles in the condensation from your drink with a finger, you explain. 

“I couldn't face seeing you again, so I, ha, ran off to a different dentist. It's a half hour out of my way, but never mind.” 

Eddie's posture changes immediately, standing fully to attention. 

“You're not my patient anymore?” 

“Nope,” you reply, and knock back the last of your drink, “I'm not.” 

“You're not my patient anymore.” 

You risk looking back at him; he's wide eyed, nodding in your direction, as if he's just told a joke that you didn't get. Face scrunched with confusion, you blink it away as a light bulb pings on inside your head. 

“Oh. I'm not your patient anymore.” 

The grin that slowly unfolds across Eddie's face is damn right sinful. 

“You wanna come upstairs?” 

“Hell yes.” 

Leaping lightly off of the bar stool, you turn to dislodge your coat from the back of Alex's chair and wave at him frantically to tell him you're leaving. He turns to you, then Eddie, then back to you with what can only be described as A Look. If you weren't so excited you would have admonished him, but who the fuck cares. 

Eddie grabs your hand firmly and pushes through the thronging crowd with you in tow. The cold night air hits you like a blow to the chest when you escape, as does your rash decision. 

Eddie seems to sense your hesitation. Pulling you into a doorway he grabs your other hand and looks at you. 

“Sweetheart, you know you don't have to do anything you don't want to. We can just go upstairs, have a drink, or not, and chat. Really.” 

“Really?” You cock your head with the question as he licks his bottom lip with a pink tongue, dragging it to his perfect teeth to bite. He looks nervous, and for some reason, that is doing it for you right now. 

“Really. I'm just saying we don't have to rush-” 

The rest of his sentence is swallowed whole by your kiss as you tip your head up and push your lips against his firmly. Eddie grabs your waist with one hand, the other snaking into your hair to cradle your head. 

For a moment you forget about the cold, about the fact that anyone can see you like this right now. All that matters is the pounding heat of his body smashing against yours and the passion pouring from his tongue as it swipes and rolls and fills your mouth with unexpected moans.

Nails digging into his back, as if attempting to claw under his clothes, you force his body against the wall in the wanton desire to be closer. His hand massages the silk of your blouse at your waist, warmth spreading from his palm into your very flesh and seeping down between your legs. 

You'd have him, right here, against this wall, right now, if he hadn't pulled your head back softly to break the kiss. The tips of your noses rub together as you both gasp for the same air. He's smiling and biting his lip again, but this time it looks like a distraction to stop himself from devouring you. Eddie breaks the feral spell first.

“So, just a chat, yeah?” 

You both laugh, a giddy silly thing reserved for the two of you. 

“Yeah, you're probably right. Don't want to rush these things.” 

Nodding sagely, you take his proffered hand and let him lead you inside and up the stairs. 

You're not sure what you expect his place to look like, but you're pleasantly surprised at how open and spacious it is. Hardwood floors, big windows, a big black sofa, and an open kitchen area with a little breakfast bar. There's a wall of shelves with what must be hundreds of records, CDs and tapes on it, all neatly organised and displayed, and an expensive looking sound system. Two guitars sit by the couch as if they'd been played recently, along with an amp that seems to be doubling as a side table. There's a small pile of boxes over by one wall that have yet to be unpacked. And that's it.

No wonder it looks so spacious, there's nothing in it. 

“Eddie, it's a great place, but er, where's all your stuff?” 

He looks a little sheepish as he flicks a standing lamp on and shuts the curtains. 

“Yeah. Got the basics sorted; kitchen, bedroom, music. Honestly, never lived anywhere this big before, and my last place came furnished.” 

He gestures widely at the sofa with a swing of his arm and you perch on it, ankles crossed, fully aware of how short your skirt is. 

“So, you wanna drink? Unfortunately I can't make a Manhattan but I’ve got rum, some vodka, sodas, maybe a beer?” 

“What do you mean you can't make a Manhattan? What sort of establishment is this?” 

You huff dramatically, folding your arms. 

“I'm terribly sorry Ma’am, I shall have a word with the management.” 

Eddie falls to one knee in a low bow, a mock plea for your forgiveness and the sheer goofiness makes your heart do a little hop inside your chest. 

“What can I possibly do to make it up to you?” 

His eyes are open, honest and sincere. But the grin fighting to crawl over his face is naughtiness personified.

“Well I shall have a beer now, and maybe you can make it up to me later?” 

Smirking, he presses a soft kiss to your knee, then another, to the side of it. Letting his teeth drag further he playfully nips at the outside of your thigh and smooths the area with a lick. 

Breathe. Remember, you need oxygen to live. 

You take a harsh, ragged breath in as if inhaling for the first time and try to concentrate on slowing your heart rate. This is madness, you feel wrecked from a sprinkling of kisses. 

Feeling Eddie's soft chuckle as the air from it dances on your thigh, he gets back up looking far too pleased with himself. 

“You know, you shouldn't be that forward with a lady.” 

Throwing his head back and laughing loudly he walks around the back of the couch. Directly behind you, he begins talking again. 

“I don't see a lady here.” 

Whipping your head around to reprimand him, he bends to your level and whispers in your exposed ear. 

“I see a very good girl.” 

Words die in your throat having never reached your tongue. There's no witty repartee, just an odd noise that blurts out of you, halfway between a whimper and a squeak. 

Eddie walks away towards the fridge to grab your drink, no doubt with a very smug look on his face. In his absence you fan yourself to try to quench some of the raging heat within, but at this point it's like throwing a water bomb at a house fire. Undoing one button on your blouse, you let the girls have a little air at least. 

He returns, drinks in hand, and offers one to you with a bow of his head. 

“Milady.” 

You take it and sip as Eddie sits next to you. 

“I thought I wasn't a lady?”

“You are right, absolutely right,” he responds, shuffling closer to put an arm around you, and nuzzles your neck teasingly, “and I am not a gentleman.” 

You reach out to the side, and realise there's nowhere to put your beer. 

“Eddie, you need a coffee table or something.” 

“Just, put it on the floor.” 

Placing it gently on the floor, wincing as you do so, you mumble half to yourself, “if my mother could see me now…” 

“I'm sure she'd have more important things to say than about the lack of coasters, sweetheart.” 

“You have a very good point.” 

Eddie holds your jaw, softly turning your face to his own, and presses a kiss to your cheek, then your jaw, and finally to your lips. It's more gentle than the searing heat of the last one; a languid spell of tongues finding their way against each other. 

As you both break away, Eddie strokes your bare thigh, whispering in your ear as he does so. 

“God, when you walked in my office, I thought I might have to switch professions. I just wanted to hike that tight skirt up and bury my face right here.” 

His hand moves up your leg, a finger ghosting over the top of your panties that makes a shiver work all its way to the tips of your toes. It's a bold move, and one you wouldn't stand for usually, but this is Eddie. You've been fantasising about this for the last two months. Hell, this scene has played in your brain so long it was almost like it didn't feel like the first time.

So, if he's going to be that bold, then bold it is.

“Well, I gotta confess, it took a lot for me to not moan around your fingers in my mouth.” 

Eddie groans loud, throwing his head against the back of the couch. 

“Fuck that's so hot. C'mere.” 

He's coaxing you into his lap and you follow his lead, swinging your leg across him and most likely giving him a choice view of your lacy underwear. His large hands wander over your frame, mapping out your curves with his eyes as well as his fingers. 

“Eddie.” 

You breathe it out, your hands resting on his shoulders. He's getting hard beneath you, you can feel it as your hips start to move back and forth of their own accord. 

“Hmm?” 

He doesn't look up, busy stroking your sides, thumb brushing your breasts with each pass. Every nerve feels like a live wire, feeling more needy than you think you've ever been. 

“Eddie, please, just kiss me.” 

“No.” 

“No?”

He does look at you then, giving you a cheeky smile.

“I think I've got the hottest girl in the city on my lap right now, let me savour it a little.” 

Rolling your eyes, you reach to the front of your blouse and start unbuttoning it slowly, letting the silky fabric fall off your shoulders and away. The fates seem to be in your favour for once; this is your best bra, adorned in satin and black lace.

“Well, someone's eager. Were you looking to get lucky tonight?” 

Eddie says as he smirks at you, a hand stroking up, over your laced covered chest, coming to rest on the side of your throat. 

“It's been a while Eddie, forgive me for being keen.” 

“Oh yeah, what was it? Nine months, right?” 

Cringing at his words whilst he chuckles, you rest your forehead on his shoulder to hide your face. 

“Technically no.” It's muffled into the fabric of his shirt.

“No?”

Still unwilling to look at him, you reply, “that was a few weeks ago. It's ten now.” 

Pulling you upright again, he playfully pouts, a little mocking face that's making your insides pulse. 

“Aw, poor, poor baby. Guess I shouldn't tease so much. Why don't you take this ridiculous skirt off and sit for me sweetheart.” 

It's comical how quickly you follow his directions, shuffling your skirt off and laying back on the sofa, ass near the edge, as he drops to his knees on the floor in front of you. 

“That's it, right there. Such a good listener.”

As he runs his hands up the inside of your thighs, you spread your legs to make room for him, breath quickening in anticipation. 

“I suppose I better check,” he says as he looks up at you with a serious expression, pierced eyebrow arching. 

“Check what?” 

“How wet my words made you.” 

‘Oh God!” you squeak, hiding in your hands, “I can't believe you remembered that!” 

“Remembered it? I can't think of anything else.” 

His thick rough fingertips reach higher and higher; he slips two under your panties, hooking them to one side as his digits glide through your wetness. 

“Oh sweetheart, you're soaked. That must be uncomfortable. Don't worry I'm gonna do something about that.” 

You're thinking of something clever to say back but your mind empties entirely as his touch moves to your clit and rubs slow, deliberate circles. 

The relief of him finally stroking just where you need it has you near tears, breathy gasps pulling from your chest and rushing out your mouth. 

His fingers leave you suddenly and you resist the urge to stamp your foot like an impatient toddler, fists tight at your sides. Eddie raises up on his knees, leaning toward your chest. 

“I'm gonna take this off first, that OK sweetheart?” 

He runs a finger between the valley of your breasts as he speaks, making your back arch into the hint of a touch. 

“Y-yes.” 

“Atta girl.” 

He reaches behind you and flicks your bra clasp, opening it with such ease that it makes you question internally how many times he's done that before. Then, he pulls the straps down slowly and with such reverence that you forget your thoughts. 

“Jesus Christ, you are just perfect aren't you.” 

Solid knuckles rub gently over a pebbled nipple making you whimper and bite your lip. Leaning in, his mouth is wet and warm, almost leisurely massaging your nipple, then giving the same amount of care and attention to the other. 

When his teeth graze you an unfiltered moan shoots out from you, entirely unbidden. 

“Wow, you're really sensitive,” he says when he unlatches his mouth. He pinches one abruptly and you cry out, hand grasping at his bicep in pleasurable shock. Licking his lips, he grins at you. 

“Oh we are gonna have a lot of fun sweetheart.” 

Running a finger just under the hem of your panties, he pulls them down as you assist him, lifting your ass to give him room. He shakes his head, biting his lip as he takes all of you in with his eyes now that you're entirely exposed, as if he can’t believe his luck. 

Kissing down your quivering form, he finally slips that overbold tongue of his between your folds, running it back and forth over your sensitive nub. His tongue searches you, taking care to leave no spot untouched. It's deliberate; a slow and intense exploration of your sex, as if mapping out every sweet spot, spurred on by the moans spilling from your lips with ever increasing frequency. 

Each sound you make is echoed, mirrored by Eddie, as if he was taking as much enjoyment in eating you out as you were in receiving it. The build up is as slow as his movements, but that certainly isn't a bad thing. Far from it. The feeling fizzing in your very blood is deep and profound, and it keeps building. 

Until Eddie does this twirling thing with his tongue that makes your eyes cross, that sets each one of your nerves on fire, fingers desperately grasping at his soft waves as you moan even louder. 

“Fuck, Eddie! Right there!” 

His words are muffled, a hint of amusement in them, but you're sure he says “yes ma'am.”

Then he does it again, and again, tongue twisting like it's independent from his body, swirling you into a deep pool of overwashing ecstasy. Back leaving the soft confines of the couch you clutch at his hair as your hoarse moans pound out of you, until you flop back down, a glistening panting mess. 

Eddie's still kissing your delicate parts, leaving soft, almost innocent kisses. He presses his lips to your clit again and you squirm, trying to get out of his gentle, grasping hands. It's a soft touch, but his hands are immovable, like velvet wrapped around a steel bar. 

“Eddie, fuck, I-I'm really sensitive-” 

“Oh I know sweetheart,” he says, pressing his mouth against you over and over, “but we're not done.” 

Staring at him wide eyed, he lifts one hand, ring and middle finger outstretched, and brushes the tips of them to your kiss bitten bottom lip. 

“Can you get these nice and wet for me sweetheart?”

Parting your lips slightly, he slips the fingers inside and you do as instructed, licking and suckling on them, surprised by how fiercely you wanted to. They felt rough and heavy on your tongue. Eddie's staring at you with a burning admiration in his eyes, still pushing his lips to you. He suckles softly at your clit making you writhe and moan around him. As he pulls his fingers out you call to him. 

“Eddie, I can't it's too much-” 

“Shhh, princess, do you really want me to stop?” 

A little drop of shame trickles down your throat at the thought. 

“No,” you whisper. 

“That's what I thought,” he says as his fingers circle your silken entrance, “be good for me sweetheart, good girls come twice.” 

You're not sure if the heady moan that you release is due to his fingers slipping inside you, or his words. It could be a combination of both. Stroking at you incessantly, his fingers drive into you, perpetually caressing that soft spot inside that makes your toes curl. 

Your release creeps up unsurprisingly fast. It's all force and pressure, a tightening, full feeling that's gripping your insides in its strong claws. One minute you're holding on to reality and the next, you're gone, floating away as the pressure melts and cascades from you like stardust. 

Your vision unblurring, you realise what's happened when the sound of it reaches your ears. That squelching, soaking noise of Eddie's fingers working you through the last throes of your pleasure. 

As you look down Eddie's staring at your dripping pussy with awe, having to pull his fingers out of you with a bit of force since you don't seem to want to let go. He sits back on his heels with a smile that could rival the Cheshire cats, absolutely coated in your juices. It's covering his face, his hand, and it's even darkened the front and sleeve of his shirt. 

An apology nestles on the tip of your tongue, but it stays there when Eddie speaks. 

“Atta girl, did so good for me. Fuck, I kinda want to see if you can do that again.” 

Opening your mouth for a witty remark, it escapes you. Your usually sharp mind is now the consistency of spray cheese. All that comes out is a soft little noise, a cross between a hum and a thank you. 

“Stay right there, I'll be back.” 

You giggle a little as he runs off. Where on earth does he think you'll go? And more importantly, how? 

When he returns his face and hands are clean, and crucially, he's shirtless. Lean muscle gleams in the low light, decorated with a dozen or so tattoos. He's got a cloth in one hand, and a glass of water in the other. 

“Here, drink up sweetheart, you need it.” 

You search for a hint of playfulness or smugness in his face and come up empty. In fact, he's staring, waiting for you to take a sip. When you do, he smiles, and goes about wiping the tops of your thighs. The cloth is even warm. You've never been given a warm cloth before, the closest being a handful of scrunched up tissues. 

“Eddie, where have you been all my life?” 

Laughing loudly, he sits next to you, stealing a sip of your water. 

“I came as quickly as I could.” 

It was a cheesy line, but you're beyond caring, a goofy grin smeared all over your face. 

“Can I take you to the bedroom?” 

You nod and before you can get up he's scooping you into his arms. 

“Eddie, I can walk you know,” you say as you drape your arms around his neck. 

“Oh I know, I just want to take care of you.” 

Fuck. You could move in tomorrow. 

The only things you notice about the bedroom are the soft blue of the duvet as he places you gently on top of it and the bedside lamps he flicks on that bathe the room in a warm glow. The rest doesn't matter, not right now. Your eyes are on him as he stands at the edge of the bed, looking at you as if you were a beautiful sculpture carved from the finest marble. 

Getting up on your knees, you smile cheekily up at him as you hook your fingers into the worn denim and pop the top button. 

“And what do you think you're doing?” He asks, hand moving up to cradle your face. 

“I was going to return the favour.” 

You unzip the fly and pull them down, eyes widening at the swollen bulge in his trunks. They're tight, leaving little room for the imagination, but anything you may have imagined couldn't possibly compare to the real thing. 

“Not tonight sweetheart. Like I said, I want to take care of you.” 

He turns to the nightstand and rummages around, pulling out a packet of condoms. It's new, you notice, as he unwraps the film and takes one out, placing it on the side whilst he rolls his underwear off.

As he's putting it on you gawp shamelessly, truly wondering if it's actually going to fit. No wonder he's so confident. 

“Did you actually just turn down a blow job?” 

He smiles, crawling between your legs and caging your head between his arms. 

“What can I say, I'm a giver.” 

He stops for a moment, knuckles stroking your cheek. 

“You sure you wanna do this?” 

Smiling gently, you reach down and grasp his solid member making him jolt, and rub the tip through your slick. 

“Yes.” 

You line him up and his smile turns into an open mouthed groan, eyebrows knitting together as he starts slipping inside of you. 

“Eddie, holy- fuck.” 

“You're OK sweetheart, doing such a good job for me.” 

He pushes in further and you realise why all the foreplay was necessary. Clearly, he enjoyed it too, but you're not sure you could have taken him without it. When he's finally sitting flush inside you wince a little, hands tight on his shoulders. 

“You feel incredible, so tight for me.” 

Whimpering, you can feel your cheeks heat with the praise. 

“God you really do like my words don't you?” 

Grinning mischievously, he plants a soft kiss to your lips. It weirdly feels more intimate than him being inside you. 

“Y-yeah, it's really sexy Eddie.” 

His cock kicks up inside you, making you gasp a little. 

“You're really sexy. The little sounds you make, your moans.”

As if demonstrating that, he pulls out a little and thrusts in gently, forcing a quivering sigh from you. 

“See? Fucking perfect sweetheart.” 

He begins rolling his hips into you, never pulling out too much, as if he couldn't stand to be any further apart. 

One of his sinewy arms snakes its way underneath you, holding you close as he playfully nips your earlobe and breathing whispers into your ear. 

“How many times?” 

“Huh?” You respond, utterly lost in the feel of him dragging against your gripping walls. 

“How many times do you want to come?” 

You giggle, despite the situation, or maybe because of it.

“I don't usually, oh, get t-to choose, is there a- oh fuck- there a menu or something?” 

He chuckles and slows down just slightly, pushing into you devastatingly deep. 

“What's the most you've managed?” 

He's so thick, and the feel of him is otherworldly; it had you wondering how it'd feel without the layer of latex between you. 

“I can't- fuck- I can't think- like two?”

He stops, looking at you incredulously  with a furrowed brow.

“Two? We can do better than that.” 

He speeds up, leaning on one arm as his other hand finds its way down your torso and begins to rub your clit. That pulse inside you is sent into overdrive, mouth open and panting as you cling to his back, nails digging into his skin. 

Your release swells inside, growing, and intensifying, until it suddenly pops, showering you in pleasure. Tears spring in the corners of your eyes as you moan out your release an inch from his face.

“Atta girl,” Eddie says as he nudges you with his nose, “do that again.” 

Your clit feels a little sore, swollen and sensitive after so much pleasure. His touch is gentle, but it's still overwhelming. 

“Eddie, I-I can't, please-” 

“You want me to stop? I'll stop if you want that sweetheart.” 

The sharp feeling begins to dull, making way for another wave of euphoria that washes over your whole body. Legs twitching uncontrollably, you whine long and low, a flood of noises bursting from you that no damn could ever stop. 

“That a no, sweetheart?” 

“Don't stop don't stop don’t stop - oh!” 

You'd be embarrassed by the crazy noise you made as you come again, if you were even aware of it. A screeching loud moan, eyes scrunched as your body leaves the bed and your nails drag across his bare back. 

“That's it, knew you could, so good for me. Fuck, nearly lost it.” 

He does stop then, biting his lip to stop himself from unleashing his own orgasm as his breath comes in short huffs. 

“Eddie, you don't have to- ohmygod!”

The last of your sentence evaporates on your tongue as he hooks his arms under your legs and pushes your thighs flush to your chest. It seems even Eddie has lost the power of speech, dirty moans pouring from his mouth that rival your own. 

He's so deep, impossibly deep; as if he were in your guts at this point. You've never felt so full in all your life. Your third release is almost there, a tightening string wound around you, pulling and twisting and contorting your body into a writhing sweaty shambles. 

You're clenching and convulsing around his pumping length as he twitches inside you, his groans and grunts spurring you on. It's faster now, his thrusts becoming more erratic. Sweat clings to the very air, the heat in the room creating this cloying humidity that dampens each breath out, making hair stick to skin and creating loud slapping sounds of your conjunction. 

Eddie's face is red with effort, teeth gritted and lips tight. 

“Are you gonna come again? I can feel you. Please, sweetheart, please- fuck- I need it, I need it, come with me!” 

You let go. The tight string breaks and your orgasm spreads through your very soul; it's so profound and savage that tears spill out and down your cheeks with its intensity. Eddie joins you, coming as one with a drawn out groan that borders on feral. 

For a moment, you both revel in it, just panting, feeling sticky skin against skin, heartbeats slowing, muscles unwinding and relaxing. 

He finally unhooks his arms from your legs and you lay them shakily on the down as he clambers off, collapsing next to you on the bed. 

“You OK sweetheart?” 

“Hmm.”

It's all you can reply with, a little satisfied noise. Scooting closer to him, you place your hand hesitantly on his chest. 

“Hang on a sec.” 

He gets up and disposes of the condom, slowly padding out the room. Returning again with another glass of water for you, he hands it over with a raise of an eyebrow. This time you take it gratefully, chugging half of it before passing it back. 

A moment of panic grips your chest, followed by shame. You barely know him, yet you'd gone to his place with hardly any hesitation. 

As he lays back down next to you, scooping his arm around your back, you clear your throat. 

“I just, er, wanted you to know I don't usually do this.” 

“Hey, it's alright. Neither do I.”

Feeling slightly less trampy, you stroke his chest with delicate fingers, wishing for the moment to last but knowing it can't. 

“I don't think my legs work anymore, I think you'll have to call me a taxi.”

Eddie sits up suddenly, looking at you with anguish written all over his face. 

“You're not leaving, are you?” 

“Well, I don't fancy doing the walk of shame tomorrow in that outfit.” 

He pouts, looking much younger than he is. 

“Oh. Well, you can always borrow something to wear?” 

“That's even worse!” You laugh, hitting his chest softly. 

“Fine, then I'll go out in the morning and buy you something to wear.” 

Staring at him wide eyed, you realise he's not joking. 

“Really?” 

“Sweetheart, I'd buy you a whole new wardrobe if it meant you’d stay.” 

Heart beating just that little bit faster in your chest, you fight the tears that want to build up. 

“I just thought, you know, well, we don't know each other that well and that you might think this was just, a thing.” 

“You mean a one night thing?”

You nod, not trusting your voice. 

“C'mere.” 

Melting into his open arms, he kisses the top of your head.

“I want you to stay. I'll take you home Monday and-” 

“Eddie, tomorrow's Sunday.” 

“I know.” 

“Eddie, I have to work Monday. So do you!” 

You laugh, trying to break free of his arms but he doesn't let up. 

“Fine, I'll take you home tomorrow. Late. Then see you Monday night.” 

Face hurting from smiling, you settle into the cuddle, the swell of feeling in your chest almost too much for you right now. 

“Eddie I can't stay. I don't have a toothbrush.” 

You say it jokingly, and he squeezes you. 

“It's fine, I've got like 20 of them from work.” 

“Thief.” 

“I prefer to think of it as resourceful.” 

Suddenly he pulls you on top of him making you squeal. 

“So you gonna stay?” 

“Yeah, fine I'll stay.” You try to say it in a mocking manner but your silly grin belies your rolling eyes. 

“Good.” 

Holding you close, Eddie breathes such a sigh of relief; a deep one, one that sounds like he's been holding in for some time. A sigh that makes you feel special. 

Permanent Taglist (couple of these are assumed, if you want off let me know! Same if you want to be added sweethearts)

@liminalpebble @eddies-puppet @rip-quizilla @micheledawn1975 @vanilla-demon @millercontracting @roanniom @josephquinnsfreckles @leelei1980 @mrsjellymunson @usedtobecooler @eddiesprincess86 @ali-r3n

[jjkamochoso]

Nobody Got You the Way I Do

Angst, Fluff

Soshiro Hoshina x gn!reader

No matter what problems you run into, big or small, you and Soshiro are always there for each other :)

Inspired by the Kaiju No. 8 outro song “Nobody” by One Republic

Warnings: light cussing, violence, mentions of blood, dead bodies, and people getting eaten by a kaiju

It's a bit of a long one so buckle up and enjoy! <3

[I'd take the fall/I got you covered when there's no one at all]

“There’s one more report that someone failed to turn in last night. Does anyone here have an explanation? Officer L/n?”

Your heart sank in your chest as you desperately tried to keep the internal freak out you were having from showing externally. You had forgotten to finish the last report of the night—well actually, morning, since it was 5 am when you finally left the office. You had written 10 other reports in a record time yesterday, somehow being on the recieving end of the Operations team’s grunt work even though you were a seasoned officer. You wanted to grip Captain Ashiro by the shoulders and force her to get a good look at your sleep deprived face so she understood that your forgotten report was a complete accident, brought on not by carelessness but by exhaustion, and then you would gladly grovel and beg for forgiveness so you wouldn’t get written up for your mistake. Before you could even move a muscle, though, Soshiro spoke up in your defense.

“My apologies, Captain, I had Officer L/n occupied as they helped me recount the details needed for my own reports. By the time we were finished, it was daybreak and I released them from their duties. You’ll have their report by noon today.”

Captain Ashiro gave a curt nod of acknowledgment before moving on to the next topic. When her back was turned toward you, you mouthed a thank you to Soshiro, who, in turn, shot you a wide smile.

[Oh, yeah, and I'd stay through the night/When you got demons tryna break through the walls]

You yawned, putting your feet in the slippers by your bed as you got up in search for a late night snack. You were having trouble sleeping and you figured a little walk and some food might help you relax. You padded through the quiet, dim hallways of the Defense Force base, your muscle memory taking you straight to the dining area without giving it a second thought. To your surprise, there was somebody already in there. You recognized the figure as your close friend Soshiro, but his body language was unlike anything you’d seen from him before. He had his arms outstretched in front of him, his fingers gripping the sides of the communal kitchen sink like it was a buoy in the open ocean. His chin was hanging low against his chest and you tried to make your footsteps a little louder so you didn’t sneak up behind him and accidentally scare him while he was in such a fragile state. You debated just leaving him be and heading back to your room so as not to bother him, but it seemed like he really needed someone there for him and you’d be damned if you let a friend suffer for no reason.

“Soshiro? Are you… is everything alright in there?”

You called out as softly as you could, but you saw the way his shoulders tensed up at your voice and your heart broke a little. The seemingly unshakable man you admired was seriously hurting and you were determined to help him get through whatever it was.

“Yeah, I’m fine. Thanks.”

He flashed you a grin and a thumbs up to prove he was alright but his shaky breaths and dark circles under his eyes were telling a whole different story. Both of you knew you weren’t going to fall for such a blatant lie—you were much too observant and knew him well enough to know something was wrong. That didn’t mean he wasn’t going to keep trying to push you away, though.

“Are you sure? No offense, but you don’t look it.”

“Really, y/n, I’m okay. Go back to bed, every good soldier needs their rest.”

No matter how long he kept up this act of nonchalance, you wouldn’t believe it for a second. Whether he wanted to fess up an explanation for his distress or not was his choice, but you were content to just give him company for a little while so he wasn’t alone.

“I think an impromptu hangout session would do us both some good right now since neither of us can sleep. My room’s a mess so we’ll have to go to yours if that’s cool.”

Soshiro’s eyebrows raised in a playful manner. “You want to go to my room after hours? If anyone sees us… they might get the wrong idea. People talk, you know.”

“So?” you questioned, grabbing a bag of chips from the cabinet. “Let them. I just want to talk with a friend and if that bothers someone, I couldn’t care less.”

He was too exhausted to argue so he let you lead the way out of the common area. When you made it back to Soshiro’s room, you both sat on his bed and munched on the food you brought. You kept the conversation lighthearted for a while before diving into the whole reason why you were there with him as the moon shone outside his window.

“So, do you wanna talk about earlier?”

“I do, but… it’s silly. Juvenile.”

“Who’s to say? I certainly won’t judge you,” you told him.

A few seconds passed, silence washing over you.

“I had a nightmare. Another one. They’ve been nonstop all night.”

That explained his jumpy demeanor and tired gaze.

“I’m sorry that’s happening to you. You deserve a time where you can escape all the shitty things you deal with in real life. It’s not fair you’re haunted at night, too.”

Soshiro was quiet as he nibbled on a chip, lost in thought.

“It’s the same one over and over again,” he continued after a bit, “the nightmare. I train, I fight, I lose, people die. It’s an endless cycle of my failure.”

You leaned in a little closer, sitting up on one arm while you rested a hand on his shoulder. “You’re hard on yourself for no reason and that stress is probably what causes the bad dreams. You’ve been a wise vice captain and a fierce fighter, taking down every kaiju you’ve come in contact with. I know you can’t will the nightmares away but just know that they couldn’t be further from the truth. The division puts its trust in you for a reason.”

Soshiro met your eyes as you sent a small smile his way.

“I put my trust in you for a reason, too, as you trust in me,” you explained. “There’s no one else I’d rather have by my side during hard times and I hope I can be that person for you as well.”

You gave his shoulder a final squeeze and moved your hand back to the soft comforter. His hand was ready to dash out and find purchase on your own, as a sign of comfort or something deeper he wasn’t sure, but he hesitated. The call of your bare skin wasn’t his to answer; he didn’t deserve your softness. He didn’t deserve this kindness and selflessness you were showing him as you listened to his foolish woes without judgement. What made him special enough to think he ever had a chance at seeing your enchanting figure at this hour every night for the rest of his life? If you weren’t in the room, he would’ve scoffed out loud. He was delusional. He was overly tired and emotionally drained, that’s all. There was no way he’d find himself as head over heels for you in the morning. You two were just close friends, that’s all. That was enough for him, wasn’t it? Why did he feel the burning desire for something more?

[There ain't no, no kinda line/That I wouldn't cross if you need me to/You're out here searchin' for signs/So I think it's finally time that you knew]

“There’s nothing I wouldn’t do for you, you know.”

“That’s kinda hardcore considering we’re talking about a bottle of water.”

“Way to ruin the moment, L/n.”

Soshiro handed you your drink and you gulped it down gratefully. Actually, now that you’d given it more thought, you hadn’t even asked him for the bottle in the first place. Rather, you had made an off handed comment that morning during breakfast about wanting to be more hydrated throughout the day and Soshiro must’ve taken on the responsibility of making that happen.

“While I very much appreciate this gesture, aren’t you supposed to be in training?”

“I wanted to see you instead,” he said, a playful glint in his eye. “Besides, we can’t have our best operations officer wither away from dehydration. I’d be too lonely without you.”

He jutted out his bottom lip, making you laugh as you went back to work.

“Whatcha working on?” he inquired, spinning around in a chair.

“Strategic planning and city evacuation plans.”

“How thrilling.”

“S’not so bad,” you murmured, deep in thought. “And actually I’m glad you’re here because you’re the perfect man for this question.”

“You could’ve stopped at ‘perfect man’ and I would’ve suggested to the brass you needed a raise,” Soshiro teased, instantaneously on his feet to peruse the papers you had sprawled on the table.

“You could’ve omitted everything in that sentence except for the part about the raise,” you shot back, Soshiro sticking his tongue out at you. When you got to talking about work, it was like a flip of a switch with Soshiro. He immediately turned from joking to serious, listening intently to your question and helping you find the most logical solution. As he pored over the map in front of him, you noticed he was standing close to you so you took the time to observe the finer details about your friend. His violet hair was hanging loosely and framing his face perfectly. His toned arms were on full display from where the short sleeves of his tight training shirt ended. Speaking of tight shirt, it was ridiculous the way his broad, muscled back was having you almost gasp for air. However, it certainly wasn’t only his physical appearance that left you breathless. It was the way he made plates for you at meals when you were running late. It was the way he encouraged you to try your best during physical training, even if you were nowhere near having the prowess of soldiers on the front lines. It was the way he sought you out at any given moment. It was the way he was always there for you no matter what. You groaned inwardly. Your life would be so much less complicated if you didn’t realize you had caught major feelings for your close friend. Relationships were strongly discouraged in this line of work due to the danger you were constantly in and the lack of a promised future for any members of the Defense Force, but there was a nagging voice in the back of your mind saying that it was how you felt in the present that mattered, not what the future may or may not bring. Still, no matter if you thought about Soshiro romantically or platonically, there was one undeniable truth he needed to hear from you.

“There’s nothing I wouldn’t do for you, either.”

Tearing his gaze from the map, Soshiro turned to you, mouth opened in surprise at your admission before quickly closing it again, his eyes softening as his heart swelled in his chest. You said the words with such conviction that it made him want to marry you on the spot.

“Vice captain!”

The wheezing voice of Kafka Hibino rang through the room, breaking the eye contact between you and Soshiro.

“Y-you’re needed… at the training grounds… right away.”

Kafka looked like he was a second away from passing out with the way he was clutching his chest and gasping for air. You quickly came to his aid by dumping the contents of your bottle into his mouth as he drank it greedily. Spilled water dribbled down his chin as he thanked you profusely, looking at you like you hung all the stars in the sky.

“Hibino!” Soshiro’s eyes were narrowed more than usual as he addressed his soldier. “Go refill Officer L/n’s bottle. If you take longer than 20 seconds, you don’t get any more water breaks for the rest of today’s training.”

“Yes sir!”

Kafka ran with the speed of a cheetah and you swatted at Soshiro’s arm lightly.

“The poor guy was on his deathbed, cut him some slack. I could’ve refilled the bottle myself.”

“I know.” His lips curled up slyly. “But it’s fun to mess with him and I like taking care of you.”

You wanted to explore that sentiment a LOT further but your moment with Soshiro was over as Kafka burst through the door again, your water bottle filled to the brim. You thanked him and the men were on their way out, Soshiro sending you a wave that you gladly returned.

“You’re always happy but you look more smiley than usual, sir. Was it because of y/n?”

Uh oh. Did I say that out loud? thought Kafka.

“15 laps around the building for being nosy and 100 push ups for referring to a superior improperly.”

“But-”

“20 laps and 150 push ups. Or does 25 laps and 200 push ups sound better?”

“N-no, Vice Captain! I’m sorry!”

Kafka took off at full speed, not wanting to incur any more punishment as Soshiro just shook his head, laughing to himself.

[Nobody got you the way I do/Whatever demons you're fightin' through/When you need somebody to turn to/Nobody got you the way I do]

You were having a really, terribly, horribly shitty day at work. Nothing was going right: all of your coworkers were in a bad mood, the computer system kept crashing and losing your saved data. You were beyond ready to clock out as soon as time allowed, but you were ordered to stay behind and go through computer files to double check none of the information had been compromised. You didn't know what divine figure you must've upset because there could be no other explanation as to why you were always being punished like this. Competency was truly a curse, and since you were the best at your job, along with everyone else's, you continuously got the task of making sure the Operations team didn't fall apart. It was an honor to be seen as responsible and irreplaceable in the eyes of the higher ups, sure, but not at the expense of your mental health. By the time you were finished, it was another late night at the office for you, but at least it was over. You gathered your things and trudged toward your room, eager to lay down and give your tired eyes a break. You rounded another corner of the building but stopped in your tracks when the light of the training room practically blinded you from down the hall.

"Waste of electricity," you grumbled to yourself, walking over to turn off the light. To your surprise, you heard footfalls and grunts from inside. Who would be up training this late? Your question was answered as you observed Soshiro fly around the room, swinging his practice swords with precise movements.

"Y/n!" he greeted when he spotted you in the doorway, ceasing his training, "I missed you at mealtime. Don't tell me you found another table to sit at."

He wore a fake frown that was replaced by his signature smile in an instant, his canines peeking out of his mouth.

"I'm glad you came away unscathed today. I heard it was brutal in the office."

"Brutal is definitely one word for it," you said, sitting on a weight bench. "I want to cry for hours on end but I think my body's too tired to let go of the tears."

Soshiro set his swords down and took up the spot next to you, his leg brushing against your own.

"You wanna talk about it?"

You would've loved nothing more, but you didn't want to bother him with nonsensical babbling about how sucky your day was. His work was vital and you refused to be the one preventing him from continuing it.

"I appreciate the offer," you said, standing up and already missing the feeling of his leg on yours, "but I should let you get back to training. Ranting about my work annoyances aren't crucial to humanity's survival like your training is, so I'll see you later."

You turned away, ready to walk to your room, when the vice captain hurriedly took hold of your hand to stop you from leaving.

"Wait," he said, his tone affectionate yet pleading, "let me be there for you like you were, and always are, there for me. I want you to know you can turn to me at times like these. I won't push you away."

You stared at each other in silence before he spoke once more.

"Please don't go."

Your dam of tears burst.

You didn't know who pulled who in first, but it was of no importance--the only thing that mattered was that Soshiro was offering you a safe space to let go of the misery you'd been holding in for much too long. Your tears were easily escaping down your cheeks, soaking the back of Soshiro's shirt.

"It's okay, I'm here, I'm here," he soothed. The feeling of safety and security in his arms was something you hadn't felt in a long time and was almost too much for you to bear, making you cry even harder. As more tears fell, you felt his grip on you tighten and you returned the favor, hanging onto him like he was your lifeline. His nimble fingers slowly worked their way up and down your back, sliding around in a comforting manner. His familiar scent wafted up your nostrils, doing wonders to calm you down after your outburst.

"Shh, you're alright," he cooed, his voice as warm and gentle as a summer breeze. "Today was a bad day but they don't last forever. Tomorrow will be better, I promise. You'll get though it. And if you can't get through it on your own, then we'll get through it together, okay?"

You sniffled and nodded your head, making Soshiro relieved that his comforting skills weren't as bad as he thought they might've been. You didn't know how long you stayed with your arms wrapped around each other but you wished it could be forever. You finally pulled away from Soshiro's embrace when you felt like you were about to fall asleep on his shoulder.

You let out an awkward laugh as you wiped away a stray tear. "Soshiro, I... I'm sorry you had to see that. But thank you."

He was completely unbothered, it seemed, as he brought you in for one last hug. The temptation to press a chaste kiss to the top of your head was strong, but his will was stronger, opting to leave you with some final words from his heart instead.

"Don't worry about it, y/n, you know I always got your back. Nobody's got you the way I do."

[When you go dark and the night gets so cold/I'll be on my way to you/You know I ain't tryna lose you, oh, no/If you're in Hell, I'll go there too/There ain't no, no kinda line/That I wouldn't cross if you need me to/You're out here searchin' for signs/So I think it's finally time that you knew…]

"Vice Captain! The kaiju is exhibiting strange behavior! It's headed for the train stati-"

The communications line went dead.

"Operations, do you copy?"

No answer.

"This is Hoshina. Is anyone there?"

Static crackled in Soshiro's ear and he growled in frustration, fighting the urge to rip out the useless earpiece and trample it. Did they say the train station? This kaiju was being a real piece of work. Their kind is usually predictable and easy to understand, but this one just had to be unique, didn't it? Soshiro sighed, running to catch up to other members of the Third Division to regroup and strategize.

"Nakanoshima! Do we have eyes on the kaiju?"

"Yes, sir!" the pink haired woman said, "it's like Ops said, headed toward the train station. They're trying to evacuate right now."

"Right. Thanks."

This was NOT good. A kaiju, especially the honju they were dealing with, could kill a lot of people in a short amount of time and the stations was always jam packed at in the evening. Since comms were down, Soshiro figured cell service was too, but it didn't hurt to check. He pulled out his phone and glanced at the screen. Nothing. However, he had one unread message from earlier that must've come through before the signal cut out.

Y/n: That meeting was sooo boringgg :((( but my train got here earlier than expected so I'll get to the station around 5:15! When I'm back on base I'll treat you to dinner... at the dining hall lol

He felt the air leave his lungs when he spied the current time: 5:20.

Soshiro was desperately trying to do the math in his head to see if you were still at the station. The kaiju attack started 10 minutes ago, you've would've been here 5 minutes after that, but if they just began evacuations from the trains...

He hauled himself on top of the nearest building, desperately looking into the distance for an answer to quell his worries. There wasn't a train stopped in the middle of the tracks anywhere so that meant the train you were on made it to the station and was probably the one that people were currently pouring out of in a mad dash to escape from the monster headed their way. Soshiro cursed under his breath as he jumped back to the ground, now surrounded by his soldiers.

"Vice Captain! We figured out the kaiju seems to be attracted to huge groups of people, more so than usual! That's why it's going to the station!"

"Good work, Reno," replied Soshiro, his face hardening as he addressed everyone. "You guys heard him. We work together as a group, got it? Nobody goes off on their own. We have to get this thing interested in us instead of civilians."

The Third Division set off in a hurry, making their way toward the rampaging Kaiju.

Well, this was new.

As you heard the announcement about a kaiju barreling toward the train station you'd just arrived to, you thought about how you'd somehow managed to never see one up close-- until today, most likely. The screams of the passengers around you got louder as you all heard the kaiju's steps hit the ground in a frenzied state, emboldened by the prospect of a large meal, and you found yourself getting jostled in a sea of bodies as people desperately tried to escape the train and underground station. You decided to hang back for a moment, not wanting to risk getting trampled. You looked out the train window, trying to stay calm.

"Kaiju ahead! Prepare to engage!"

Soshiro, for once in his life, was nervous to fight a kaiju. When he found you, he'd have to scold you for making him worry like this.

Yes, that was a when, not an if. He will be finding you, alive. He couldn't lose you. Not today, not ever.

"Vice Captain! Yoju are headed this way!"

Soshiro followed where Kafka's finger was pointed. The little kaiju were running toward the Third Division while the honju was still dead set on terrorizing the train station.

At least some of them took the bait.

"You guys take care of the yoju. The honju is mine," snarled Soshiro, running as fast as he could.

When the train eventually cleared enough for you to make a run for it, your chance to escape the station was getting slimmer by the second. The honju's steps were making the ground shake and you could barely stay upright. You and a few other passengers were the only ones left below the surface and were now following the emergency signage, hoping the kaiju wasn't overhead. You were feeling better about the distance you had put between you and the kaiju when all of a sudden, the roof of the train station began to rumble. You knew immediately that it was about to collapse so you yelled out a warning and ran as fast as your legs could go, heading above ground. Sure enough, as soon as you got up the stairs, the pavement next to you caved in and left a huge gaping hole in the middle of the street. Along with the other passengers you made your escape with, you put your hands on your knees, panting and trying to catch your breath. You were lucky you didn't get caught up in wreckage because it was a certain death sentence, much like the kaiju licking its lips in front of you. You wanted to scream in frustration as you realized you had run right into the trap it set. Somehow the kaiju had known hordes of people would run from the station and right into the area it was using as a plate. You had to give this thing credit for its intelligence as you were at a loss of what to do next. Most of the people you had boarded the train with were dead, save for the lucky few who evacuated the station right away. You knew this because of the numerous bodies and bones strewn about around you. The only thing left of the people you ran up here with was their blood soaking the street as the kaiju dined on their corpses. You were resigned to the fact that you were about to die and you just hoped it was quick. In a blink of an eye, you were picked up in its claw, the smell of blood overtaking your senses and making you want to puke. The kaiju growled at you in a mocking manner as you were raised to its lips, its razor sharp teeth about to bite down on your head.

"No you don't, you greedy piece of shit."

Soshiro's voice rang out, echoing in the bloodied remains of the street. The kaiju roared, upset at the intrusion of his meal. The big beast threw you down in a tantrum, intending to end your life on the pavement, but a flash of purple and two seconds later, you found yourself safely on the ground with minimal injuries.

"Soshiro," you breathed out, "how did you..."

"I thought I told you," he stated firmly, but with his ever present boyish grin, "I always got you."

He then addressed the kaiju directly. "Looks like you had enough dinner, hmm?" He pulled out his swords, the light reflecting off the sharp edges as he made a glorious display of his specialty weapons. "What do you say to me giving everyone a show?"

Soshiro was in the air in an instant, engaging in the ferocious clash between beast and blade. You could only watch with awe as Soshiro's lithe movements easily evaded the clunky kaiju. At certain points, it almost seemed like he was toying with the large monster to prove the point that he was superior and you would've felt bad for the kaiju if you hadn't just watched it devour humans a few minutes ago. Soshiro then brought the battle to a close, laying the final blows, and the defeated kaiju fell to the ground.

"Are you alright?" he asked, giving you a once over as he extended a hand to help you up.

"I'm perfectly fine thanks to you. Seriously, Soshiro, you saved my life. I don't know how to thank you."

"Thank me? No need for that, it's my job to keep people safe." His voice dropped low, indicating he was about to tell you something serious. "But I knew I couldn't lose you. You mean much more to me than you could ever know. Y/n, I..." He didn't finish his sentence, afraid of telling you how he truly felt for you. It wasn't that he was afraid of rejection so much as he was afraid of the emotional vulnerability that came with telling someone you loved them. Thankfully for him, you understood perfectly what he was trying to get at.

"You always got me?" you suggested, wearing a cheeky smile.

"Yeah," he said, a mix of determination and pure love present in his features as he looked upon you. "I always got you."

[whatsnewalycat]

SURRENDER

Part Two of Ruthless | Stepdad Joel Miller x f!Reader

Rating: Explicit (18+ ONLY)

Word Count: 6.2k+

Warnings: non-canon, Boston Joel, dub con, step-cest, sneaky sex, use of the word daddy in a sexual context, dad kink (that’s a thing right?), age gap, degradation, praise kink, avoidance, silent treatment, sneaking into bedroom at night, angst, collective grief, mentions of explosions and gunshots (nothing graphic), *it’s about the yearning*, hair pulling, no physical descriptions of reader aside from hair can be pulled, reader is 18-19, Joel being a bad dom and a bad caretaker, hot shower, food mention, mentions of religion, unethical D/s dynamics, dry humping, anal sex, physical restraint, face fucking, sub-space unlocked, dirty talk, dd/lg maybe i think, masochism, like a lick of fluff if u squint 

A/N: Heeeey buddy. As stated above, this is a second part to Ruthless. Big thanks to my love @frannyzooey for the help and hype, you're the best. Please be mindful of the warnings and tell me what cults you think exist in post-outbreak tlou.

[ my masterlist ] [ taglist ] [ AO3 ]

———

As the 19-year anniversary of Outbreak Day draws near, unrest festers in the streets of Boston.

Whenever August ticks over into September, residents of the QZ seem to divide into three distinct categories: people who want to forget, people who won’t let them forget, and people who are too young to remember. 

Born post-apocalypse, you fall into this third category. 

Which doesn’t mean the ripples of loss don’t touch you, contrary to what some may think. You still lost something. Everyone did. 

This fact is apparent when you take the scenic route home from your job posting at the distribution center. 

Rubble crunches under your shoes as you walk down the crowded sidewalk, passing by a message spray-painted over the battered brick building: WE’VE BEEN FORSAKEN. 

Graffitied sentiments like these pop up constantly this time of year. Overnight, almost. Your mom and Joel mostly blame Fireflies for the vandalism. The bombs, too. Apparently they stir shit up to make people uneasy, then recruit those who seem susceptible. That’s what your mom thinks, anyway. ‘Leveraging their grief against them,’ she says. 

You think it might be more than that, though. 

Yesterday you saw three separate arguments break out in the streets. When you were taking inventory of k-rations this morning, an explosion went off so close-by that boxes rattled off the shelves. It was the second bombing this week, and you don’t foresee it getting better until October. 

Sure, the Fireflies lay claim to the lion’s share of vandalism and destruction, but their activity is consistent year round. They are the baseline. But this? This is different. 

You attribute the excess chaos to this heavy, static feeling in the air. It clings to your skin and gets stuck under your nails like a thick cloud of invisible dust or spores. Microscopic particles embed themselves in the cracks and creases of each person inside the QZ, fertile ground for clusters of violence to sprout up at every turn. 

If you had to guess, you’d say this phenomenon probably spans the globe. All of you felt the loss of Outbreak Day, the whole human collective. Echoes of what humanity lost will likely still be heard a thousand years from now. 

Some people refuse to accept this. 

Like the guy a few strides ahead of you, who walks by an orange spray-painted message that reads REMEMBER WHAT YOU LOST and sneers, “Almost twenty goddamn years, fuckin’ let it go and move on.” 

You watch him. See his neck get all red as he mutters to himself and clenches his fists at his sides. He looks around like he expects someone to challenge him. Nobody does. 

This doesn’t seem to satisfy him. 

Further up the sidewalk, he encounters a memorial made up of candles and wilting flowers hugging the side of a residential building. He kicks it over and repeats his earlier sentiment, this time louder and directed towards the brick wall. 

“It’s been twenty fucking years, get the fuck over it already!” 

Of course, a passing spectator indulges him. 

“Hey—watch it, asshole!” 

The two men puff up their chests and start yelling back and forth, so you cut right down an alleyway to avoid the situation completely. 

When you arrive home, you find Joel at the dining room table, hunched over a map, holding a glass of whiskey like it’s a lifeline. 

Neither of you say hello, but when you glance up while untying your gritty shoelaces, you catch him staring at you. 

A jolt of electricity shoots through you. 

He corrects himself, returning his eyes to the map as he takes a big swig from his glass. 

“Mom home?” 

“No.” 

Nodding, you rise to your feet and slip out of your shoes, squirming with the excitement that one syllable brings you. 

“When’s she gonna be home?” 

He doesn’t look at you. Just shrugs and takes a sip of whiskey, too engrossed in his project to spare you attention. 

For weeks, he’s been trying his hardest to pretend you don’t exist, which would be typical behavior if he didn’t fuck you dumb a few weeks ago. Sometimes you’re not even sure that what happened between you was real. 

But, then again, sometimes… sometimes you feel him staring at you when he doesn’t think you’ll notice. Sometimes he touches your waist as he passes by. Sometimes at night you hear him pacing the hall outside your bedroom, the faint squeak of the warped floorboards giving him away. 

When this happens, you stare at the door and will him to do it. Aching with something stronger than want, you pray for him to cross the threshold. But he never does. 

You exhale through slack lips and wrinkle your nose at the canned goods. 

“Hungry?”

He grunts in response, which is Joel for ‘I could eat.’

Tilting your head at the handwritten labels, you present the options, “Stew or… meat and beans?” 

Another grunt, roughly translating to ‘Both options are fucking terrible,’ a sentiment with which you wholeheartedly agree. You grab the stew and empty it into a saucepan on the gas stovetop. 

While it heats, you steal glances at Joel, noticing the rigidity in his demeanor. His set jaw and tense muscles. The deep creases in his furrowed brow. 

You’ve coexisted with him long enough to understand he’s not immune to the heady thrum of anguish in the air this time of year. Like you said, nobody is. 

Joel distinctly falls into the “people who want to forget” category of the forsaken, but carries whatever or whoever he lost on Outbreak Day like a ten thousand-pound weight on his broad shoulders. He white-knuckles his way through the season of chaos and mourning and tries to act like it doesn’t affect him, but it does. 

You can tell, not just from the way he holds the grief captive in his body, but also from the obvious indulgence in his favorite coping mechanism: planning. 

Joel is a meticulous planner. 

Between smuggling runs, he comes home after a long day of manual labor at some job site and unwinds by plotting logistics. Drinking, too, but he clearly has a favorite. 

Hours will go by while he pours over reference material, maps or blueprints, making addendums of any notable changes he and your mom discovered. After this, he deliberates. Joel could chew up weeks with this step. He plots out each possible route, taking into consideration all the penciled-in shortcuts and caches they’ve stashed within a 30-mile radius, then determines the most beneficial path for their next big adventure. 

Given FEDRA’s current paranoid state, with the increased patrols and surveillance and whatnot, your mom and Joel won’t be making a trip outside anytime soon. But still, he drinks and plots and winds himself up into a tight obsessive knot. 

You divvy up the simmering stew into two bowls, placing one next to his glass of bootleg booze while you take a seat across the table from him. He ignores your presence, just flicks his eyes around the map like it’s supposed to give him the answers. 

When you’re halfway done with your bowl, you gently prod him, “It’s gonna get cold.” 

Sitting up in his chair, he sighs and scrubs his face with his hands, then folds up the map and sets it aside. 

The two of you eat in silence. Each wordless second twists hot beneath your skin. Your mind wanders to the dig of his fingertips in your soft flesh. The sting of his flattened palm. The stretch of his thick cock. The things he said to you—fuck.  

You’re tempted to tell him to do it again. To tell him that you’re still abiding by his rules. That you don’t sneak out anymore. That you haven’t felt the sweet bliss of release for weeks because you don’t fucking come without his permission. 

Over and over, you rehearse it in your head. You imagine yourself telling him, ‘I’ve been so good for you and you haven’t even noticed.’

The sound of him clearing his throat pulls you from your thoughts. 

He shifts in his seat a little, studying you, “You still seein’ that boy downstairs?” 

Your heart stutters. Heat floods your veins as you shake your head. 

“Why not?” 

All you can do is stare at him while trying to verbalize an answer. For weeks, you ached for his attention. And now that you have it? The words are stuck in your throat. 

You shrug, pushing your empty bowl away to lean your elbows on the table. When you look up at him again, he blinks. Waiting for a response. 

A rush of adrenaline makes the world around you buzz. 

“Why do you care?”

He clenches his jaw for a moment, then parts his lips to respond. 

The apartment door swings open. 

Both of you start at the intrusion. You jump to your feet to collect the dirty dishes while Joel turns to greet your mother. 

“It’s a fucking madhouse out there,” she grumbles, then pulls out the seat adjacent to him and starts telling him about her day. 

———

You step into the shower and hiss in reaction to the scalding hot water. 

The fact that it's warmed at all surprises you. Not an unwelcome surprise, even if it hurts a little. Most days the water comes out tepid at best, and you’d gladly accept a third-degree burn over a lukewarm shower. 

Besides, the sting feels right on your skin, as weird as that sounds. You relish the pain while washing yourself, thinking, ‘this is what I deserve for feeling this way.’ Hell fire, if the sidewalk preachers are right. If there is such a thing. If you’re not there already. 

Only once the water runs cold do you turn it off and go back to your room, leaving the door cracked open behind you. After putting on a big t-shirt and some underwear, you turn off the lights and climb into bed. 

For a while you stare at the water-stained ceiling and listen. You hear the roar of FEDRA’s armed vehicles patrolling the streets. Far away, gunshots ring out into the night. Some kid starts crying next door, then his mother lulls him back to sleep. 

Closing your eyes, you try to tune it all out and focus on the noises within this unit. Concentrate on the drip-drip-drip of the bathtub faucet. The ripping sound of your mom’s snores. 

Then, you hear it. 

A creak from the floorboards. Footsteps. 

Their bedroom door squeaking open. 

Everything goes silent long enough for you hold your breath and scream inside your head, please please please—

It starts again. One careful step, then another. 

His presence hovers there at the door for six restless seconds before he opens it and steps inside, closing it behind him. 

Your pounding heart squeezes your breath ragged. It comes out this shallow, shaky push and pull that broadcasts your consciousness. 

Still, you pretend. 

You keep your eyes pinned shut and listen to the advance of his footsteps to your bedside. 

Down by your feet, the mattress shifts under his weight. He doesn’t touch you for a while, only watches you, his gaze burning into your skin. 

Then, he murmurs, “I know you’re not sleepin’.” 

You blink your eyes open to look at him, in boxers and an undershirt, all hunched over at the foot of your bed. Always carrying that weight on his shoulders. The glow of the street lamp outside your bedroom window casts this perfect golden light on him that makes you kind of hate how good he looks. 

“What are you doing?” you ask in a whisper. 

Over the blanket, he rests his hand on your calf, then takes it back and shakes his head. 

You roll onto your side, swinging one leg over the blanket and tucking it between your thighs, a wordless plea for him to touch your hungry skin. Joel shifts further onto the bed, turning his body to stare down at you with a straight spine. His gaze drifts up your exposed skin, fingers twitching in his lap. 

This faltering self-discipline compels you. 

Joel is nothing if not self-disciplined. That much is true for all the forsaken, yourself included. 

Your working theory is that nobody wants after the world ends, they just need. Need to sleep, need to eat, need to fight. Anything to survive one more fucking day. It’s all any of you can ask for. 

So do you want him, or do you need him? 

And what about him? Joel fucking Miller, with his reinforced concrete walls and heavy heart. Was he ever capable of wanting? 

“Joel,” you reach out to touch him, beckoning him to meet you halfway. 

His eyes flick to your outstretched hand, then back to your face. He shakes his head, as if declining the offer, but you don’t retreat. You sit up and crawl across the bed to him. 

The column of his throat bobs, head rocking back as he watches you come to a stop. He almost lets you touch his cheek when you try again, but snatches your hand away before you can make contact. 

“Don’t,” he warns, the tone of his hushed voice deadly serious. 

He squeezes your fingers while you study his stonewalled expression, tilting your head at him, “Why did you ask me that earlier? If I’m still seeing Bert?”

“I was curious.” 

“Curious why?” 

His lips part, then close, gaze dropping to your mouth. 

Heat pulses through every inch of your body. You drop your voice to a breathy whisper. 

“Were you thinking about what you did to me?” 

Something flickers behind his eyes when they snap onto yours. It draws you in, urging you to scoot so close your knees butt-up against his jackknifed leg. 

“You fucking loved it, didn’t you?” you ask quietly, smirking a little when his stern face twitches, “You loved how it felt to make me surrender—” 

The dull throb of his tightening grip around your hand makes you gasp. A rumble slips from his chest, which could be read as a warning if you had an ounce of self-control left. If you didn’t need him to combust. 

You let your gaze drift from his burning gaze down the slope of his nose to his lips, “Do you think about it every time you see me, like I do with you? How fucking good it felt?” 

“It was wrong—” 

“Then why are you here?”

Your question comes out louder than you expected. It ricochets through the charged space between his body and yours, popping the bubble of awareness around you. 

All the little sounds you picked up on earlier seep back into the foreground. FEDRA patrolling. The whiz-pop of firecrackers going off maybe a block away. A faint murmur of conversation in the upstairs unit. 

He holds your stare, but doesn’t make a sound until a snore rips from your mom’s chest, signaling crisis averted. When he speaks, his words come out hushed and calm. 

“You need to be quiet. Understand?” 

The command liquifies your bones. 

You lick your lips and nod, “I understand.” 

“Good.” He studies you as if deep in thought, finally releasing your hand to pinch your chin and assert, “You know why I’m here. Stop pretendin’ you don’t.” 

It’s hard not to fall in line when he’s looking down at you like this, all hot-blooded and self-assured. Cocky, almost. But you try to push his buttons anyway. 

“I thought it was wrong.”  

“Don’t get cute with me. Yes or no?” 

Your pulse flutters. Tongue goes numb. All you can do is nod. 

He jostles your head a little, “Say it.” 

“Yes.” 

“Say yes please.” 

“Yes please.” 

He works his jaw back and forth, studying you, then tugs your shirt.

“Take this off.” 

While you pull the offending garment over your head and toss it aside, Joel moves further onto the mattress, leaning back against the wall. 

You follow him, swallowing the static buzzing in your throat as he ushers you onto his lap. The scrape of his rough hands on your waist may as well be a live wire crackling across your skin. He pulls you closer and closer until your belly presses into the worn cotton of his shirt. The heat between your legs settles on his stiff length. When he twitches against you, a heady electric current courses through your body and coaxes a whimper from your lips. 

It seems too intimate to look at him, so you cast your gaze downward. Your shaky hands lay flat against his chest, absorbing the rhythmic thud of his heartbeat beneath your palm. 

Being with him like this feels strange. Not strange how it sometimes is with a new partner, that clumsiness before you know how your bodies work together. 

It’s strange in a fucked up out-of-context sort of way. Of course, growing up around him never conditioned you to think of him like this. Joel fucking Miller, with his scarred-up knuckles and unending apathy. The only man who could make big brown eyes like that seem cold. 

All those years, you never considered him anything more than an obstacle. 

Even then, if there was some tiny shimmer of attraction lingering under your skin, a piece of you that wanted more from him, you never thought he could feel so solid and soft and alive. You never dreamed he could make you feel so fucking good.

“This stays between us,” he tells you, more of a command than a request. 

“I won’t tell if you don’t.” 

The tips of his fingers dig into your hips, and he purrs, “You’ve been good for me, haven’t you?”

You preen at the warm timbre of his voice, body arching into him as you breathe, “Yes.”

Under your touch, his muscles tense. He exhales hot against your cheek and guides your hips in a rocking motion, slow and steady, rubbing all those aching nerves hard against him. 

“You liked it, too. Didn’t you? How I fucked you last time?” 

A low-frequency hum throbs deep inside you, amplifying every sensation tenfold. You nod, rolling your hips faster, “I did, I liked it.”

“Yeah, you liked it? Or did you fucking love it?” he hisses, “Dirty little slut like you. Bet you loved getting fucked in the ass, didn’t you?”

“Oh my god, Joel—” 

“Tell me.”

“Yes yes yes I fucking loved it—” 

Too loud. 

He ceases all movement, locking you in place with a steel grip. All ten of his digits bury themselves in your skin. The exquisite pain makes you gasp. 

“Hush.”

You clamp down on your lips in an attempt to stifle yourself. Each heaving breath wiggles down to your core and back. 

“Look at me.” 

If you do, you’ll dissolve at the edges. You know it. You are sugar paper and he is a humid room and you are so incredibly fucked. 

Pinching your eyes shut harder, you shake your head and whisper, “I can’t.”

“Why not?” 

“I’ll come if I do.” 

The confession makes him throb underneath you. He husks, “Do it, look at me.” 

You do. 

Even in the shadows you can make out his features, his parted lips and hooded gaze. The desire etched into his face as he stares at you, looking mystified in a way you’ve never seen before. Heat percolates beneath your skin, sending your heartbeat racing. 

His hips arch into you just so, then he pulls you in and pushes you back, rubbing your body against his, “Do you wanna come? Come for me just like this?” 

“Please—please,” you whine, feeling pleasure branch out from your middle as he slides you back and forth, “Please I wanna come for you it’s been so long—” 

“Will you be quiet?” 

Swallowing a moan, you nod frantically. 

His eyes flicker around your face and he breathes, “Go ahead.”

You’re not sure if it’s the flames in his eyes or the fact that you haven’t had an orgasm in almost two months, but the second he gives you permission, the ecstasy you tried so hard to contain spills over the edges and floods your body. It pulses through you hot and hard and makes your mind go white. You have to clasp your hand over your mouth to muffle the guttural noises that try to escape. 

“That’s it,” he coos from far away, still grinding your twitching body against him, “There we go. That’s my good girl, hmm?” 

“Oh my god—” you whimper at the sharp aftershocks that shoot through you, “It feels so good, Joel, fuck—” 

“Do you wanna come again?” 

Nodding, you link your hands behind his neck and set yourself in motion, rubbing against him a little faster than his set rhythm. His eyelids flutter as he throws his head back, the muscles under his shirt going taught. Beneath the thin fabric of his boxers, he’s hard as a fucking rock. 

Releasing the tight grasp on your hips, he roams up your sensitive skin to your breasts and tests their weight before squeezing. It shoots through you, the pleasure and pain indistinguishable, just a throbbing rush of need. Your breathing comes in heaving gasps and you pinch your eyes shut again, tilting your head towards the ceiling as you once again find yourself struggling to keep quiet. 

“Eyes on me,” he reminds you. 

You snap them open and meet his. 

“Good girl.” 

And—god, the way he looks at you, his gaze hungry and wild. Fucking maddening. Simultaneously, you wish he would stop—the contact too intense, too intimate—and pray that it never fucking ends. 

Heat bubbles up inside you. You bury your fists in his hair and roll your hips faster, chasing the scorching need for more. 

He hisses and pushes back against your thrusts, murmuring, “That’s it, grind that pussy on me, make yourself feel good.” 

“Fuck—fuck yes, it feels so fucking good—” 

“I can feel how fucking wet you are, leakin’ all over me. You do love it, don’t you, baby?”

You start to tremble and nod, trying your hardest to whisper when you tell him, “Yes yes yes I do I fucking love it—I wanna come again, can I please come again, please please—” 

“Listen to you. So good, askin’ for permission.” He brings a hand to your face and brushes his knuckles against your cheek, “Such a quick learner.” 

“Joel—” 

“Do it. Make yourself come again.”

Something untethers inside you. Heartbeat pounding behind your ears, you work your body against him in jerky movements, each one more delicious than the last. His eyes burn into yours, all heavy-lidded and lust-blown in the darkness, watching your face twist up with pleasure as the hot gooey feeling between your legs stretches wider and wider, then overtakes you completely. 

You give in to it with a shattered breath, burying your face against his shoulder to muffle your moans. He holds you down, making sure you smother your cries in the damp cotton of his t-shirt as wave after electric wave washes over you. 

When your spasms start to peter out, and your rolling hips come to a stop, he releases his stronghold to pet your hair. Your heaving chests meld together, breath syncing up into a steady ebb and flow as he smooths his palm up and down your spine. 

For a moment, it’s just this. Just the soothing motion of him rubbing your back, calming your boneless body. Soft and quiet with everything else stripped away. 

Emotion swells in your chest and tingles up your throat, behind your eyes. You try to hide it, the fact that you’re crying, but it becomes obvious when a sob escapes you. 

Joel shifts a little, then tilts your chin up to meet his eyes. He searches your face and frowns, furrowing his brow. 

“I’m sorry,” you wipe your tears and cast your eyes downward, “I—I don’t know why this is happening, I’m sorry. I’m stupid.” 

“No—hey, no,” he assures you, “It’s fine.” 

You shake your head. 

“Look at me,” he commands, and when you do, he cups your cheek and holds your gaze, “It-it’s normal to feel… emotional. Really, it’s ok.” 

The warmth and sincerity of this—his touch, his eyes, his words—makes your heart stutter. It curls up inside you and sedates your jumpy nerves. 

You sniffle and nod, “Ok.” 

His adam’s apple bobs in his throat as he studies you, bringing his hands to your waist. The longer you stare at each other, the more all the subtle signs of his lust come back into focus. How his tongue peaks out to wet his lips when he looks at your mouth. The heavy thudding of his heart. His strained breath and throbbing cock. 

Your gaze drifts to his lips. A needy, aching desire simmers at the base of your spine. It seems wrong to kiss him. More sensual than sexual, rooted in something he will never have for you. But still, you wonder. 

You wonder how soft his plush lips would feel against yours. How he would taste. Whether or not he would use tongue, or teeth, or both. 

Your fingertips twitch hesitantly towards his mouth. He doesn’t pull away or admonish you, even though you give him ample time to protest. When you make contact, smoothing your touch over the pillow of his bottom lip, he murmurs against your fingers, “I’m not your boyfriend. I’m never gonna be, either, I wanna make that clear. That’s not what this is.”  

“I know you’re not my fucking boyfriend, Joel.” You scoff at the thought, “Boyfriend. I don’t want that. I don’t need a boyfriend. What I need…” you watch your touch drift from his mouth to his jawline, where you scrape your nails through his scruff, “What I need is someone to fuck the thoughts out of my head.” 

“Fuck the thoughts outta your head,” he repeats, almost a chuckle, “That’s what you need, huh?”

“That’s what you need, too. Isn’t it?” 

Something smolders behind his gaze as he searches your face. 

“You can use me, you know. Take whatever you need from me. Use me like a fuck toy, Joel, I fucking need it.” 

His whole body reacts to your request, muscles flexing taught as he clenches his jaw.

You bat your lashes at him and pull yourself close enough to feel his breath on yours when you ask, “Don’t you need a little fuck toy like me, daddy?” 

“You’re a sick girl, you know that?” 

“You like it.” 

Neither of you can deny the other’s accusation, resulting in a stand-off that tingles beneath your skin and makes your heart pound in your throat. 

Subconsciously, you rock your hips forward and suck in breath when his cock throbs against your clit. He pushes back, flooding your veins with fire, “Are you gonna keep quiet if I fuck you?” 

“Are you gonna shut me up if I can’t?” 

He lets out one single amused chuckle, then asks, “Are you really tryna test me right now?” 

Suppressing a smile, you shake your head. 

“That’s what I thought.” 

Something in the way he says it blooms heat in your chest. His tone teasing, almost playful. 

He gives your ass a light smack, then tugs at your underwear, “Take these off.” 

You roll off him onto the mattress and slide them down your legs while he stands to strip naked. Seeing his cock makes your body hum. It stands at attention, bobbing a little when Joel catches you staring. 

Sidling up to the bed, he beckons you closer, so you follow his silent guidance and crawl over to him, wrapping your hand around his thick length. You glance up at him, licking your lips as you await further instructions. 

“Get it nice ‘n’ wet for me.”

Nodding, you bring your mouth to the head of his cock, exploring first with your tongue, licking up the salty dribbles of lust. You taste a hint of yourself on him too, arousal that soaked through his boxers and marked him yours. Temporarily, at least. At least for tonight, or at least for right now. 

A pleased rumble erupts from his chest when you wrap your lips around him and start to slide up and down his shaft. He feels solid and warm and fills your mouth completely. The first time he hits the back of your throat, you gag and pull off him, working him with your hands as you catch your breath. 

“Do it again.” 

You take him in your mouth, rutting up and down a few times before sitting up taller to drive him down your throat. He buries his fists in your hair and thrusts his hips forward, “There we go, that’s it—fuck, you’re so fucking good at that.” 

His praise sparks at your core. You whine around his cock and bob against his thrusts. It doesn’t matter that you can’t breathe. You don’t need oxygen, you just need this. The sting of his grip prodding your movements, the raw stretch of him fucking your airway, the wet squelch that fills the room. 

When he yanks your head back and unclogs your throat, you gasp for breath and stroke him with both hands, churning his slick length. Fire roars in his eyes when you look up at him. 

He grabs your chin and husks, “Say thank you.” 

“Thank you.”

He smacks your cheek and grabs your chin again, “Say thank you for fucking my face.” 

“Thank you for fucking my face, I fucking love it—”

“Say please can I have some more.” 

“Please can I have some more, daddy?” 

Stifling a groan, he crams it back in your drooling mouth, down your throat, snapping his hips in sharp, quick thrusts that make you gurgle with pleasure around him. Far away, you hear him panting, “Take it take it take it—”

The chorus makes your body tingle. You think about your mom sleeping in the other room, how there’s just a wall between her and this. How she could wake up at any moment and follow the muffled, hedonistic noises. How she would find Joel balls deep in your mouth and you giving him something she never could: control. 

This time when he pulls you off his cock, he uses his white-knuckle grip on your hair to make you flip over and turn around, ass in the air towards him. 

The head of him nudges up against the tight ring of your asshole. You hear a wet splat, then feel the heat of his spit trickling down between your cheeks. Your body clenches with anticipation as he smears it around. 

“Remember, you gotta relax,” he murmurs, releasing your hair to smooth a palm against your spine. 

You inhale a deep breath and exhale the tension from your muscles, letting your heart melt into the mattress. 

“Good girl,” he arches forward, breaching your entrance. 

The sharp sensation splits you open. It pulls a wanton moan from your lips that rings through the silent apartment like a siren. 

Yanking you up by your hair, Joel secures your back to his humid chest and clasps a hand over your mouth. Stars invade your field of vision as he drives his cock deeper and deeper, only stopping when he can’t go any further. You sob against his palm, so he pulls it down harder, muffling the noise until you stop. 

Everything goes silent and still, but you can’t even bring yourself to worry that you woke her. Not when all you can hear is your thudding heart and his ragged breath, coarse with what you assume is rage or lust or both. Not with his lightning rod cock vibrating hot up your middle. 

It doesn’t matter that she could walk in to find her common-law husband fucking your ass, or that this discovery would burn all your lives to the ground. All you care about is more. More stimulation, more attention, more Joel—more more more—

You try to move your hips in an attempt to create friction, but his vice grip renders you immobile. So you stay in place and try not to make noise as the flames lick at your insides. You squirm and ache and claw at his arms while he muffles your whimpers. 

Then your mom snores in the other room. 

He pulls his hand from your mouth and you gasp for air. 

Thinking you can get ahead of the inevitable scolding, you plead, “I’m sorry—” 

He drags his cock out of your body, then plunges it back inside, all the while hissing, “If you’re gonna be my little fuck toy—” 

“Holy fuck—”

“—You have to be fucking quiet. Do you understand?” 

Nodding, you gasp, “I understand, I’ll do better, I promise—please just fuck me, please please—”

You strangle a moan in your throat when he slips a hand between your legs and draws tedious circles on your clit. 

“Try ‘n’ breathe through it,” he coaches, “I’ll go slow for you this time, ok? Just remember, shut the fuck up and take deep breaths.” 

You suck in air until your chest is full, then release it, restricting its flow through a narrow space between your lips. You do it again. Tension begins to melt from your bones. It has a clarifying effect, allowing you to relish in the heat of his touch. You take another deep breath, only hitting a snag when Joel starts to rock his hips. 

It feels fucking unreal. Rough and raw, the steady drag of his cock fills you with static electricity over and over. 

“Oh fuck—”

“Shhh…”

Your inhale stutters, but you regain control on the exhale. Everything disappears except him. His heated skin sticking to yours. How fucking full he makes you feel with each thrust. The thick swell of pleasure that accumulates every time he flicks his wrist. You surrender to all of it, to Joel, entrusting him with everything except your breath. 

“That’s it, baby, let go.” 

“It feels ssso gooood,” you whisper, head rolling back onto his shoulder, “Nothing’s ever felt this good, holy shit—”

His lips tickle your ear as he purrs, “Such a good little fuck toy, aren’t you, baby?”

You gasp a little when the velvet of his tongue rolls against your pulse. Nodding, you reach back behind his neck to scrape your fingernails through his curls. He does it again, this time sealing his lips to suck on the sensitive skin. Your heart pounds thick and hot through your body. The edges peel back at the corner of your mind. You push back against his thrusts, panting out subdued whimpers as the fire in your belly begins to spread. 

“Do you wanna come?”

“I do, I wanna come—oh my god I wanna come, please make me come, daddy—”

His hand covers your mouth and holds you down so he can fuck you harder, stretching you out wide and filling you deep. He works your clit faster. The bed frame thumps against the wall in a frantic rhythm that matches the wet slap of his thrusts. Tears prick your eyes and heat swells beneath your skin, pressure building more and more until you think you can’t fucking take it anymore—

His palm smothers your moans as you fall apart, breaking into a million pieces and coming back together again with a choked sob. Joel buries his face in the crook of your neck and groans as his hips snap forward, then stutter to a stop. 

The two of you go slack propping each other up, too loose-limbed and lethargic to peel yourselves away at first. He makes the first move to separate, though, uncovering your mouth to brush the damp hair from your forehead, “You ok?” 

“Yeah,” you tell him instinctively, then second-guess yourself and look up to meet his eyes, “I mean, I don’t know. I think so.” 

He studies you, nodding. 

Hesitation buzzes in your chest when you contemplate whether or not to return his question. It seems unlikely he’d cooperate even if you wanted to know the answer.  So instead, you give him his out. 

“Is this goodnight, then?” 

“Suppose it is.” 

A flicker of something passes between your bodies as you stare at each other. It feels so hot to the touch that you chicken out, glancing away as you whisper, “Will you do something for me before you go?” 

“Hmm?” 

“Tuck me in?” 

The noise that comes out of him is half-grunt, half-chuckle. Joel for, ‘You’ve gotta be fucking kidding me.’ But he obliges, pulling his soft cock from your body at a mercifully slow speed before allowing you to make yourself comfortable. He sorts out your blanket and drapes it over your body, then starts fishing his clothes off the floor. 

Tugging his shirt over his head, he asks, “Need anything else, princess?” 

You’re sure it’s a dig, but choose to ignore it as you snuggle into the covers and hint, “Don’t make me wait so long next time.” 

He sits down at the edge of your mattress and threads his legs through the boxers, “I’ll make you wait as long as you need to. What else?”

“Mmm. Goodnight kiss?”

“Goodnight kiss,” he scoffs to himself, then looks back over his shoulder at you, “Fine, then I’m goin’ to bed.” 

He turns to face you more directly, folding a knee onto the bed as he leans in and tilts your head to the side, pressing a gentle kiss into your cheek. Even though you wish he had kissed your lips, you close your eyes and savor the affection while you can. 

After murmuring goodnight, Joel leaves. He crawls back into bed with your mother while you memorize the sound of his retreating footsteps.

[saursoob]

OK HEAR ME OUT!! RIKI X READER WITH THIS PROMPT: "I know it was a dream, but I felt you here."

A/N: AAA THANK U FOR THE REQUEST SORRY FOR THE WAIT HERE IT IS!! (i made this before the fate tour ended so just imagine 😁)

synopsis warnings: niki is exhausted and misses you, crying, sobbing, sad, comfort, fluff

word count: 708

niki slowly awoke to see you only inches away from his face with a faint smile as you admired him, “good morning” you said as you kissed him on his forehead. he backed away quickly, his widened eyes in shock, “w-what are you doing here y/n?” you laugh at his question like it was a silly thing to ask. “niki what are you talking about?” his eyebrows tightened, “but y-you’re at home? you’re not here with me...” his eyes became watery as his confusion shifted into sadness. he was aware you weren’t actually with him. “i- i miss you so much y/n” he said as he pulled you into a hug, tightly wrapping his arms around you as he began to sob. “i want to go home but i cant. you’re home”

niki awoke in his hotel bed with dried tears in his eyes. that dream was too real, too cruel.

-

niki’s day went on and finally ended after another draining concert. exhausted, he sat on the hotel bed resting his head against the headboard, he sighs deeply as he restrained himself from crying. it was all crashing down, all the feelings he pushed aside towards the dream he had this morning all coming back to him.

unwillingly tears trickled down his face, he couldn’t handle it anymore. his heart ached, he was so physically and mentally exhausted and you. you weren’t here to make it better. he missed your touch, your kisses and cuddles.

he thinks that ultimately it could be worse. you do call and text after every concert but— its not the same.

shit. you always call after a concert.

his phone next to him lit up as the words on the screen illuminated “incoming facetime from y/n <3”

he quickly wiped his tears before answering and made sure his face wasn’t showing on screen to prevent you from seeing his puffy eyes.

he only showed the ceiling of the room as he picked up. “h-hey y/n.” he stuttered and his voice came out shaky. you look at your screen took aback, it was obvious something was wrong. you softly asked, “niki, is something wrong?” you could hear faint sniffing coming through your end of the phone as he responded, “no nothing.. i just— really miss you y/n” his voice sounded dejected, it broke your heart to hear. “me too.. i miss you too niki” he slowly showed his face to the camera, the room was darkly lit with only the lamp on, his cheeks a pink hue and had tears streaming down his face. “but- it’s different, i- i cant do this without you.”

you sighed as you quickly adapted to the situation you have to be strong for him and for you, but being honest seeing your boyfriend in this state made you want to cry as well. be strong. you have to find out what happened for his emotions change so significantly in only a days time. “‘ki- what caused this, i swear you you fine yesterday? did something bad happen?” he shook his head, “no, nothing bad happened..” “is that really true niki.” his lips turned into a slight pout, “its just i ..i had a dream last night that you were here. it felt so real and i knew it was fake. i knew it was a dream but i felt you here. it was such a cruel dream.”

trying your best to shift his mood you put on a smile, “i know its been hard for us but we can push though it, we have before yeah?” he nods his head to that, “yeah we did.” you giggle, “and we will again.” he wipes his tears, sighing dramatically as he rolls his eyes, “i do miss your kisses though” you laugh, “ill make sure to give you tons of kisses when you get home” he moves the phone extremely close to his face, “you better, i’ve been deprived enough” you suddenly come up with an idea, “niki get closer to the camera” he lowly chuckles, “uhh okay” as he approaches to get closer you rush to quickly kiss the camera “there a kiss” he lets out a surprised laugh before saying, “wait i didn’t get to kiss you back”

[kingkat12]

unbearable (roman godfrey x reader)

WARNINGS: 18+, handjob, alcohol, graphic imagery, angst, mention of drugs, physical violence (almost), asshole teenage boys

summary: Roman had heard your no, respected your wishes, but now you were wondering how big of a blow it truly was for him to get his sexual advances rejected-- why was he blowing this so out of proportion? was something else maybe going on in that brain of his?

word count: 11,053 (am i on the brink of insanity maybe)

PART 1, PART 2, PART 3, PART 4, PART 5, PART 6, PART 7, PART 8, PART 9

a/n: sorry for the wait!! school is driving me nuts... BUT SO IS ROMAN!!! GRRR, enjoy!!!<333

Vladimir Nabokov, the author of Lolita, once wrote to his wife; "I love you, I'm waiting for you unbearably,"

... Waiting for Roman was unbearable, too.

Shatteringly unbearable. Images of wanting to ball up into a contortion of nothingness haunted me, and the need to become a single entity of anger and despair clawed wounds into my skin. I kept imagining I would grow extra arms to help my body become a circle, an ouroboros, but not stopping at the tail-- a snake eating itself to death.

If I could eat myself, I would. Not like an apple, not with gentle nips-- no, I would sink my teeth into my flesh and tear, rip, pull with all my might. Pull, pull, until I nothing but a gushing wound. 

This is what Roman was driving me to. 

Is this a bearable state to be in? Constantly?

If I were to ask myself that question once more, I would answer that I no longer thought anything at all. I refused to. My brain stopped working properly the first time I saw him, anyway. Therefore none of my actions actually mattered. They had no consequence. No consequence at all, just like Roman probably saw his actions.

I should've listened to him the night we got together; "I shut down," he'd said. "I retaliate when I'm angry." Maybe I needed to be diagnozed with selective hearing? It was starting to seem as though I shut my ears whenever he spoke, only listening to the muffled sound of his voice as my pupils formed into pulsing hearts. 

Still, it seemed I wasn't the only one with selective hearing. If I closed my eyes, I could live through the moment I tried to tell Roman I wasn't up for having sex with him last night. It was like he didn't hear me, didn't register it; but in hindsight, it didn't feel like it was with ill intent. 

... Maybe this hearing thing actually needed to be addressed. Maybe we both needed a trip to the doctor's office to tell them we couldn't hear or think properly.

While we're there, I think I'd also like to have him referred to a therapist of sorts. Maybe he could learn how to communicate properly and not run off into the night when he doesn't get laid?

Oh, well-- a girl is allowed to dream. Get a little lost in her head. Sometimes, that's necessary. Especially in moments like these;

I spotted Roman beneath the bleachers with some of his friends, leaning against the metal structure. His hair was styled in the usual heartbreaker style, and the two upper unclasped buttons of his shirt allowed me to glance at the small area of exposed skin-- I spotted the vial of my blood around his neck, and the longer I stood here, I remembered how soft he was to the touch; especially when he was shirtless and on top of me. I hated how I was thinking about him like a dumb cat in heat. Still, I couldn't take my eyes off him; Roman seemed so carefree, laughing with his friends, unaware of how ridiculously handsome he looked. 

He should be jailed for walking around looking like that. For life, preferably. 

My eyes focused on the way he lazily balanced his cigarette between his fingers, taking slow, careful drags as he listened to his friend talk in the heat of the weather. Now, Roman was as different from yesterday as humanly possible-- I could still see the quiet, retreated version of him he had become last night after the rejection. The one that had practically thrown a fit about not getting laid, which quickly spiraled into what I could only categorize as a mental crisis. Had he been so shocked by getting a no that he had shot himself into existential dread? 

And why was his first conclusion that I didn't want him at all?

For a girl who just said she refused to think, I sure did a lot of it. I decided that enough was enough-- I needed to talk to him. Roman was my boyfriend after all, I should be able to do so.

Still, I couldn't remember the last time I felt this small as I made my way towards him, anxiously clearing my throat before I tapped Roman's shoulder. I hadn't managed to put much strength into the tap, and I was almost worried he wouldn't notice me--

One of his friends chimed in with a nasty grin, motioning for Roman to turn around; "Pretty girl, six o'clock," 

Roman turned his head to me, and it was clear that he hadn't expected to see me. His smile fell a little as he pulled his cigarette away from his lips, making sure to exhale upwards and away from my face. I spotted my hair ties around his wrist-- knowing he still wore them gave me a sense of ease. "Hey, sweets," Roman teased, casual as ever. "The catwalk ain't here, you gotta go down to the city center for that."

I rolled my eyes, watching the smug smirk form on his face as the rest of his friends snickered. Why was he acting so... normal? "Rome, we need to talk,"

"Well, fuck," he mumbled, turning to his friends with a playful shimmer in his green eyes. "It seems I'm in trouble, guys." It was as though he was egging them on as they all collectively ooh-ed, his loyal spectators, his royal servants. 

I didn't like this side of Roman. Jock-Roman. There were many sides of him I didn't like, actually. Or was it maybe that I didn't like myself for liking him at all? This was becoming more of a mind-fuck than expected. And if we were to play mind games, I knew where to strike; "Roman, either you fucking talk to me like a grown man, or I sit down in Daniel's lap during lunch today. Your choice," 

His head turned towards me with nearly inhuman speed, no trace of any humour on his face anymore. The sudden change was chilling-- I would've shivered, had I not expected it. The oohs only got louder from the group of boys, and I watched Roman's eye twitch as he threw his cigarette down to the floor, stomping it. Still, I didn't break eye contact; I had read somewhere that dogs battled for dominance this way. Since when were Roman and I no better than dogs? 

Roman turned to his pack; "Scram," he said, nodding for them to leave. 

They were gone within seconds. 

He turned to me, a tired look about him. "Talk, then,"

"No," I placed myself before him, watching his green eyes follow me. "That's not how a conversation works. One person says something, and the other one responds. Would you like to try that out, maybe practice a little? It seems you didn't do enough of that in elementary school."

Roman scoffed, rolling his eyes as he stuffed his hands into his front pockets. "How sweet of you,"

"What can I say? I'm patient like that,"

"You'd be good with kids,"

"How great that you're acting like a child, then," I sighed, realizing that I needed a different strategy if I wanted to get anything out of this conversation. For now, Roman remained silent, probably holding back a long string of curses. I took another step forward, and I was immediately embraced by the scent of his cologne. Fuck, how I loved the expensive smell of Roman. Still, I knew I had to get myself together; I let my eyes soften as I looked up at him. "You haven't answered any of my calls or messages... I don't get what's going on in your head. I'm simply trying to understand, but you're just running away. Again."

Roman's eyelids hung heavy over his eyes, lashes fluttering lazily as he met my gaze. He let out a loud sigh; "Maybe I just need space? Did you ever weigh that option?" 

"... Do you want space?" This was so damn confusing. "You wanted to be as close as humanly possible last night, though?"

Roman scoffed again-- was it a laugh? He didn't say anything as he looked away, possibly to think. Like this, I spotted the vial again; I let out a relieved breath. To be honest, a part of me was worried he'd take it off. 

Finally, he spoke; "I need some time. Time to think,"

"Think about what?" This was making my heart speed up. "Roman, you're worrying me."

He shrugged, still not meeting my gaze. "Just... time. Is that so damn hard to give?" 

God, how I hated his tone. Hated the way he spoke to me right now, hated it all. It pushed me to say my deepest fear out loud; "If you're seriously breaking up with me because I didn't want to sleep with you with my parents on the other side of the wall, I sure hope you think very, very carefully,"

"What?" Roman seemed to snap out of it, finally looking at me. His brows were drawn together, confused; "I'm not breaking up with you. Aren't you breaking up with me?"

"What?" 

"... What?" 

We both looked at each other with bewilderment. It seemed we had both come to very, very different conclusions. 

"Roman, I'm not breaking up with you?" 

"... Why not?" 

"What?!" It felt like my brain was actively melting-- I groaned, rubbing my temples. "What on earth do you mean, why not?"

"I don't know!" Roman's brain seemed to be malfunctioning as well. He kicked off the metal of the bleachers, his mouth opening and closing as he frantically tried to find the right words. His hands were pulled out of his pockets, flailing; "Fuck, I'm confused! I'm gonna-- gonna hyperventilate, so I need to go. Need to-- Yeah, I'm leaving."

I couldn't believe how fast he took off. I hadn't seen anything like that before. Roman wasn't even running, he was simply walking with very, very long steps, and that was enough to be out of reach for me within seconds. 

I wanted to scream up at the sky-- what even was that conversation just now? The urge to drive my head into the bleachers became overwhelming, unbearable, but I opted to simply kick the structure instead. 

That was a miscalculation on my part. I hissed as the blow to my foot sent jolts of pain up my spine, and I winced as I suppressed the need to jump around on my other foot and look like a clown in the process. I cursed, leaning against the cold metal as I tried to steady my breathing.

This day was not going very well so far.

And it certainly didn't get any better when I heard the shuffling of small footsteps along the grass nearby. 

I should've known-- Letha stopped a few steps away from me, her blonde hair moving away from her face with the passing breeze. I blinked through the pain multiple times to make sure it really was her, that she actually had the nerve to walk up to me again. Sadly, I didn't have Roman to hide behind this time. But she looked so sweet with her hands clasped behind her, along with the unsure little tilt back and forth on her feet; "That didn't look very pleasant," Letha mumbled.

I didn't want to entertain this, yet I did. "What, the kick?"

"Well, that too," Letha's trying smile nearly broke my heart. I hated that we didn't know how to talk to each other anymore. "I meant the fight. Is he acting out?"

"... He's not a child, he's not acting out,"

"Didn't you just call him a child?"

"... He's my boyfriend, we're allowed to fight!" I gnarled. "And who the fuck are you to talk to me about this? How much of that conversation did you hear?"

Letha looked like I had just kicked her. "I always do my homework on the bleachers. You guys chose to fight right beneath me,"

Fuck. "You should've moved, then!--"

"It usually helps to dig into what set him off. And then, when you think you have the answer, rip it apart and look through the pieces," Letha's green eyes bore into mine, shimmering with traces of dimmed hope. "I have no idea what you're fighting about, but I've known Roman my whole life. That's how he operates, and... that's all I wanted to say. Hope I can be of some help."

An awkward silence fell over us like a damp blanket-- this was uncomfortable. Nonetheless, I stilled. A part of me recognized that Letha would've been the first to know of my problems with Roman, had we not had a falling out. Had she not iced me out, made me an outcast, turned all my friends against me, and practically shoved me down into the dirt. I would've confided in her, asked her for guidance, support-- I grieved our bond all over again. I gave in, shrugging; "Okay. Thanks,"

That seemed to take a weight off Letha's shoulders. As we stood in silence, simply gazing at one another, until her eyes slowly landed on my necklace. Roman's blood. It dawned on me that it was too late to tuck it beneath my shirt, and I awaited some sort of grief from her about it if she recognized what it was--

"Oh," she breathed. "It makes a little more sense, now."

"What does?"

"If he wears your blood around his neck as well, then it all makes perfect sense,"

"What does, Letha?"

The look she gave me sent a cold set of shivers down my spine. It was ominous, like I had been marked by death. Letha shrugged; "Of course he's... on edge, then,"

The chase was getting frustrating. "Care to go on, or are you just going to keep saying cryptic shit?"

"I can't!-- It's hard to explain!" Letha's shoulders slumped in defeat as her inner turmoil streaked her face. "Just imagine you're really, really broke, but you have a hundred dollar bill hanging around your neck... and under no circumstances can you use it." Her eyes nearly drilled holes into mine. "Would it not drive you crazy?"

Why did it sound like she was insinuating that Roman was a?--

No. 

No.

I didn't want to hear this. I didn't bother to give Letha a proper answer before I kicked off the metal of the bleachers, glaring at her as I passed her. "Stay away," I hissed, harshly nudging her shoulder. "Fuck off back to Barbieworld or wherever it is you came from."

As I marched back to the main building, I found it nearly impossible to steady my breathing. My heart was beating rapidly in my chest as I grasped the vial of blood around my neck, rubbing it between my fingers as my mind raced. 

It was only when I finally got to class and slumped down on the last free seat that I could think back to last night with a clearer vision than before.

The Avoidable Vampirism - The Upir had kept me up long enough to see the sunrise. I wanted to blame it on the author for writing such a captivating book. 

Still, the one thing I hated about literature such as this, was that it never actually said anything straight-forward. It always had to be a nonsense passage with lots of filler words and even more dancing around the actual message;

"Blood's effect on a upir is as much psychological as it is physical. Upirs tend to escalate small arguments in hopes of an eventual physical struggle, a battle that may wound, without properly understanding why. This may lead to a strong sense of insecurity which often settles in the upir's mind and festers, only drawing them forth to the dark road the curse wants them to venture."

That's what was written in the passage about upirs and blood. Nearly impossible to understand, and even further confusing, right? The worst must've been the passage that was written like a self-help book. Did the author seriously think upirs were real?

... Did I?

"And what happens when a upir is exposed to blood, you may ask? There are levels of control which range from person to person. Some may have gotten accustomed to the smell from having cut themselves in earlier years, and some may go into a spiral which is often misdiagnozed as mania in urban psychological trials. But some upirs are so assimilated, they can do experiments with blood or carry vials of it with them wherever they go— which is an inclination that should not be encouraged. The more the upir is around blood in a constant flow, the more the irritation festers, the anger boils, and the innate aggression settles."

And this is where I had to stop. I remember putting the book down to stare at the moon in the distance, wondering why on earth I had fallen into a loophole like this. I couldn't believe how many similarities I could draw between these supposed upirs and my boyfriend-- what did that say about Roman? He was possibly edgier than I had initially thought.

The more I thought about the similarities, the more insane I felt. 

... I needed to return this book to the library. 

｡ﾟ•┈୨♡୧┈• ｡ﾟ

"The both of you are like two rabid raccoons fighting over scraps in the New York City sewers," Peter grumbled, lazily sweeping the floor with his broom. 

I blinked, no longer rolling up cables as I turned to him. "... Do you have to use the craziest metaphors? And why is it always an animal?"

We had been assigned to clean up after an assembly later that same day, a task I had been able to evade up until now. So, when I spotted Peter also being forced to do this, we both huddled up in the corner of the auditorium backstage and started doing the most mundane tasks with the least effort to pass the time. However, it seemed he had been informed of my petty fight (or whatever the hell this was) with Roman, which was why he was back to making animal metaphors again. "Rabid raccoons..." I mumbled, reaching for a new cable to roll up. "Why the New York City sewers? Why raccoons?"

Peter shrugged; "Uh... Because raccoons are cool?"

Well, that's the thing with boys, isn't it-- there's pure static noise in their brains. I sighed, suppressing a chuckle as I continued my task. I glanced over my shoulder to make sure the teacher wasn't catching us slacking off before I turned back to Peter. "Did Roman maybe mention that he thought I was going to break up with him over this?"

"Yeah," Peter also looked over at the teacher just to double check. "I told him it was nonsense, but he's spiraling. He's also gotten obsessed with the idea of joining a raw meat eating contest."

It was impossible not to roll my eyes. Boys. "Seriously, what is up with him these days? Please, bro-code aside, what the fuck is happening?"

I was sure the stupid upir book was the reason my heart jumped when Peter's gaze went straight to my necklace. It almost felt like he was wordlessly trying to hint something-- no, I needed to get this out of my head. 

Still, it chimed in my mind like an old clock;

There are even some upirs that are so assimilated, they can do experiments with blood or carry vials of it with them wherever they go— which is an inclination that should not be encouraged.

Should not be encouraged.

Should not be encouraged.

Peter's voice snapped me out of it-- "I think he's just going through withdrawal,"

"Withdrawal?" I echoed, turning my full attention towards him. That didn't sound good. "What do you mean, withdrawal? From what? He hasn't stopped smoking, if that's what you're talking about."

It seemed to dawn on Peter that he had said something he shouldn't have. His brown eyes widened and he cleared his throat, no longer sweeping the floor as he stopped in his tracks. "You don't know?"

"... You're killing me here,"

Peter sucked in a sharp breath, nodding to himself in defeat. "I would make you promise not to tell him I told you, but I bet you'll want to talk to him about this, so I won't even bother," His grip around the broom tightened; "So... Roman and I used to do coke together. A lot." When he didn't get a reaction, Peter grew visibly nervous. "It used to be the usual thing at parties. Roman always had a stash, and I'd join in from time to time... And he hasn't had a hit for a while, probably since you two got together, so all of this is probably just a part of the withdrawal."

Oh. I had forgotten about this. I blinked, tilting my head to the side as I gazed up at Peter with furrowed brows. Was that supposed to be a big reveal of sorts? Did he seriously think I didn't know that they used to do drugs? That I hadn't seen the both of them leaning over tables, snorting lines as I passed the room to check whether Roman was in there with a girl or not? This confirmed that they didn't notice me that one time I walked in on them in a bathroom while Roman was making the lines neat with his credit card. "Ah, so that's what that was?"

Peter's eyes widened; "... What?"

"The stuff you two were always snorting," Shrugging, I watched the look on his face distort into one of shock. It hit me that he hadn't known the true depths of how obsessed I used to be with Roman, and that I needed to get myself together before I revealed anything further damning; "Peter, I have a little something called vision. And a brain, for that matter. You guys aren't slick."

"We... aren't?"

It was impossible not to laugh, and I reached forward to nudge his shoulder. "Not in the least," To be honest, I was relieved to hear that Roman was coming off drugs and that my ridiculous upir-suspicions had been untrue. Maybe I could finally put all of that behind me and return the stupid book?

... Please. I was afraid I was going crazy.

He scoffed, moving away to continue sweeping the floors with a grumpy look on his face; "Anyway. That's the only explanation I have for you concerning what's up with him, but it's only an assumption. Maybe you should take a step back and let him come to you when he's done freaking out?" Peter glanced at me, almost as though he was plotting something. "Actually... I think I have the perfect thing to take your mind off this."

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I regretted it the second I said yes, and I regretted it even more right now.

I had never been the biggest fan of parties, mostly because I was used to constantly getting smacked in the face with the truth that Roman was a bit of a whore (an understatement). So as I stood on the front porch with Peter later that night, surrounded by his friends as I listened to them talk about football (I wasn't paying attention, so I wasn't actually sure of the subject), I couldn't help but feel that same dread as before. I knew that Roman was my boyfriend now, that he wasn't upstairs with some random girl at this party, but the smell of alcohol yanked me right back to the memories. Actually, he wasn't even here at all.

Clutching the empty can of my finished drink, I gently yanked at the hem of Peter's sweater to catch his attention. "This isn't helping," I mumbled, meeting his big, brown eyes. "I feel bad being at this party without Roman... If he finds out, he's going to think I'm here to cheat on him or something. He's insane like that."

Peter sighed, rolling his eyes as he pulled me aside from the group. "Look, you need to relax, okay? I have it all under control,"

"You... what?"

His mouth pulled into a straight line, realizing he had said too much. Again. "Remember what I said about Roman not being here?"

Oh no. Peter had watched too many rom-coms. "For fuck's sake," I breathed, feeling my heart speed up. "Please don't say you told the both of us to come here?"

As annoying as the situation already was, Peter only made it worse by grinning in my face. He shrugged, brushing the severity off; "Last time I saw him, he was playing beer-pong,"

I was two seconds away from wrapping my fingers around Peter's neck and strangling him to death. "So Roman is running around this party drunk, and maybe also high on coke again while he's ignoring me?" Now, I was even closer to ripping my hair out of my follicles; "Oh, what an amazing idea this was, Peter! What a genius you are, this is just fantastic!"

Peter huffed, placing a condescending hand on my shoulder, squeezing it. "He's not high, okay? Just go find him, preferably before he falls over in the pool. I've let him marinade for long enough."

I grimaced-- "Marinade?" I needed to learn to stop trying to decrypt whatever Peter was saying. It never made sense, anyway. "First of all, fuck you. And second..." I took a deep breath, realizing what I was about to do; "... Wish me luck."

My head started pounding to the same rhythm as the song blasting through the speakers when I made my way inside and waded through the crowd. I hated that I was in this situation in the first place, hated that I hadn't spoken to my boyfriend in about twenty-four hours, but most of all...

I hated Roman Godfrey.

I hated the way he made me feel, hated how crazy I had become in my pursuit of him, hated, hated, hated him. However, amid my rage storm, I got a whiff of the scent of cinnamon cigarettes-- that brought me out of the inferno. I could recognize that, mixed with Roman's cologne, anywhere. I instinctively turned, realizing I had passed by the door to the kitchen, and I could be sure my eyes nor sense of smell were deceiving me as I now stood frozen, staring up at my boyfriend's broad shoulders. 

Roman's back was turned to me, but I could see that he was playing another round of beer-pong with a couple of friends scattered around the table. He hadn't noticed me, and I made sure he wouldn't. Still, the one person that caught my eye, was the girl by the counter next to where Roman was standing. I hid my body around the corner, peeking in past the door to catch another glimpse of the girl--

Fuck. It was Jessica. The girl Roman had flirted with to make me jealous the same day I told Letha I had feelings for him. Everything about her made me sick; the way she was dangling her long legs off the counter, staring up at him with literal hearts in her eyes, and how she twirled her blonde hair around her pinky as she tried to catch his attention with multiple calls of his name.

Roman seemed calm, unbothered, until he finally acknowledged her with an annoyed hum. It was only when he turned to face her, having just finished his turn in the game, that I saw that he was now pulling a cigarette out of his signature red box. I let out a shaky sigh of relief as I spotted my hair ties still hanging around his wrist, but I didn't get much time with my comfort before Jessica spoke up. 

Her voice was so painfully nasal; "So are you really seeing her?"

Roman's brows drew together as he balanced a cigarette between his slender fingers. God, how I missed his hands on me. "Who?"

Jessica said my name, followed by a pout. "If it's true, then that's really fucking unexpected. I have English lit with her, and she doesn't seem like your type,"

Had I not been desperate to hear Roman's answer, I would've grabbed the nearby lamp and bashed her head in-- alcohol didn't seem to have the best effect on my thoughts tonight. Still, Roman didn't react much, now patting down his pockets for his lighter. "Yeah, I'm seeing her. She's my girl,"

She's my girl. It echoed in my head over and over. My girl.

However, Jessica didn't seem too pleased with this revelation. She rolled her eyes, letting go of her hair; "She's not even a cheerleader," 

"And? I'm tired of you lot," 

"Romie, come on!" The nickname nearly made me puke in my mouth, effectively wiping my smile off my face. I watched as Jessica proceeded to reach out and put a hand on his arm, pursing her lips like a dumb fucking bimbo-- "I don't think a girl like that could handle you... sexually."

Ew! I wanted to slam my head against the door. Would that relieve the pain of hearing this conversation?

But Jessica continued; "Everyone knows she's been crazy about you for some time now. Everyone except Letha knew, actually, but that girl is more gullible than a lamb! But you must be aware that your girlfriend thinks you walk on water? You're dating the epitome of your fucking stalker. But does that turn you on, maybe?"

Roman blinked twice before brushing Jessica's hand off with a silent scoff (finally). He found his lighter in his back pocket, lighting his cigarette as he rolled his eyes. "Shut your filthy whore mouth," he grumbled, cig sitting between his lips. When he was done lighting it, he held the lighter out dangerously close to Jessica's face-- "I'll burn your disgusting extensions right off."

She didn't seem too phased by it on the outside, but I could see the slight tremble in her hands as she now gripped the counter. Was this how Roman talked to other girls? How had I not noticed this before? "No need," Jessica said, gulping. "I can see you're taking her... seriously." She cleared her throat, letting out a shaky breath as Roman moved away. Jessica didn't have much time with her usual clean air before he blew the smoke from his cigarette in her face, and she quickly fell into a coughing fit.

I realized what I was watching when Roman smiled with evil glee at the sight of her pain. The version of Roman he used to be. It felt like I had opened a portal back to two months ago, before anything between us had happened and he was running around stabbing people with needles to get a rush.

"Of course I'm taking her seriously," Roman said, letting the cigarette rest between his lips. "I actually like her this time, unlike anything I've ever felt for you. She's sweet, and you're like... maggots crawling out from the depths of hell compared to her."

... Ouf. 

Jessica didn't seem to be taking this very well. Her blue eyes hardened, traces of tears welling up in her eyes as her grip on the counter tightened to the point where her knuckles started to whiten-- "You're lovely tonight, as always," she mumbled, hurt. Her voice grew bitter; "But where is your girl, then? Did you leave her at home to come here alone? 

Roman exhaled the smoke through his nose with one quick breath, turning to his friends when they called his name. He was thrown the beer-pong ball, and he effectively ignored Jessica's questions to play his turn in the game.

His lack of answers seemed to give her hope that he might stray. Jessica sat forward on the counter, drying any traces of welled-up tears as she lit up. "Oh, Romie," she purred-- I nearly threw up in my mouth again. "It's nice to see you don't change."

"What is that supposed to mean?" Roman turned to her, brows drawn together. 

Jessica sighed, once again reaching out to rest her hand on his bicep. The worst part was when she gave it a little squeeze and her eyes locked on him-- fuck. "One girl will never be enough for you. You're aware of that, right?" She moved further to the edge of the counter (could she not fall off already?), batting her lashes; "If you're here tonight because you're not satisfied, I know a few ways to... satisfy you."

That was it. This was sickening. Had I not been so nervous to hear Roman's response, I would've lunged forward and slammed her empty head down to the floor. However, I could only press my body against the wall I was hiding behind, listening to the dampening of my breath as my heart thumped harshly against my ribs-- this was torture. This was complete and utter torture. 

I'm waiting for you unbearably.

Unbearably. 

This was unbearable.

It felt as though my chest was caving in on itself, threatening to make me a ball of nothing again, until Roman finally moved; gripping Jessica's hand with two fingers, he removed her off of him as though he was disgusted to even be touching her. "Are you maybe a little hard of hearing? Perhaps you hit your head really hard when you were younger, I have no idea, but I'll make it nice and comprehensible for you, okay?" He exhaled another cloud of smoke, fogging up Jessica's face as he leaned in dangerously close, lowering his voice as he spoke; "I don't want you or your cheerleaders, and I never will again. Never."

I was two seconds away from fainting out of sheer happiness-- my cheeks reddened. This was everything I had ever hoped to hear from him, and my anxieties floated out of my body with my next sigh of relief. I was ready to step into the kitchen and save Roman from this situation, hoping he'd be happy to see me now that he'd had this conversation about his feelings for me, but my plans were abruptly stopped when I heard a familiar voice call out my name.

My anxiety zapped itself right back into me as I froze to my spot, waiting for the wall to swallow me whole, never to be seen again. No, no, no!

I could only watch as Daniel approached me, giddy as ever with a beer in his hand. Were the Gods above playing tricks on me, perhaps? It was clear that he was drunk, and he tried to get his blonde hair out of his eyes repeatedly as he now stood before me, a broad grin on his face. "Well, don't you look nice," 

Why was he speaking so loudly? I was afraid Roman would hear and come out to check if his suspicions were correct. "Thanks," I mumbled, anxiously wavering back and forth on my feet as I pondered whether to flee or not. "Look, Daniel, you shouldn't--"

"What, talk to you?" He leaned down a little, his mood immediately shifting as he said my name once more like venom. It was clear in his eyes that he had come up to me with an argument in mind. "Don't tell me the rumours are true and you're actually with that guy?" 

Oh, how little I wanted to have this conversation. I so desperately didn't want to. Not with Roman at hearing distance. "Yeah, I am,"

Daniel snorted, rolling his eyes as he pulled back with a pretentious chuckle. With the way he was swaying, I could see that he'd had at least five beers or so. It explained the disgusting ramble of words that ensued; "Shit... Didn't think you were brainless like that. You're just a dumb fucking slut just like the rest of them, aren't you? Can't believe I ever thought you were different... Nice guys truly finish last, don't they?" 

Nice? I grimaced. Did this guy genuinely think he was nice? I was shocked to realize I even thought so of him at one point. My lips parted in shock; I hadn't heard him talk like this before. This was nauseating. Still, I knew I had to snap back-- I was about to speak up, protect myself unlike how I had handled myself during the whole Letha-mess, but I didn't get a chance to. 

I didn't even have to look to know who was now standing in the door to the kitchen, leaning against the frame with his arms crossed over his chest. Roman's eyes narrowed, locking in on Daniel's with a chilling look; "What did you just say to her?" he said, voice low, dangerous.

Daniel's smirk was immediately wiped off his face. "Fuck-- Fuck off, Godfrey. This is none of your business," 

"None of my business?" Roman echoed, tilting his head to the side as he feigned confusion. "Nah, that's not how this is gonna go down." He stepped away from the door, nearing Daniel with threatening steps. "You get a little drunk, and suddenly forget you fucking crumble at the sight of me? You're shaking, Goldman, but you have balls enough to insult my girl?" 

Now that Roman had pointed it out, I immediately saw it. Daniel's hand had a slight tremble as he clutched the can of beer harder with his next words; "You know she could do so much better than you, right?"

I held my breath, watching Roman's every movement. At this point, I was scared Daniel had hit too big of a homerun on that insult. 

I wondered when Roman would-- oh, there it was. With one last step forward, he managed to yank Daniel forward with a choking grip around the collar of his shirt. I felt my breath escape me with a gasp, unsure whether to intervene or not. "Roman, don't!--"

It was too late. Roman wasn't hearing me. Selective hearing. "If you wanna go, Goldman, then we're gonna go!" he raged, tightening his grip as he yanked Daniel forward like a ragdoll. "Don't be a fucking pussy, fight me if you're so keen on walking around with a black eye!"

I was both mortified and scared as I watched Daniel's face turn a peculiar shade of purple. I had never seen such a prominent look of fear in my life. His hands were clawing at Roman's as he sputtered incoherent squeaks, and after five seconds too long, Daniel was let out of the death grip. It took even less time for him to sprint out of our sight. 

Roman turned to me, brows still drawn together in fury. He was catching his breath, and he was not yet out of fight mode when he practically barked at me; "And since when have you been at this stupid party?!" 

"Ask Peter!" I squeaked. "It was his plan, all of it! He wanted us to talk!" Watching the confusion spread in Roman's green eyes, I cleared my throat before I continued; "Actually, I want us to talk as well... Could we please just?--"

Within a split second, he was gone. Gone. I stood by the wall, lips parting in complete and utter confusion-- how had he managed to disappear like that? Run off like that? Suddenly, my mind shot in a passage from The Avoidable Vampirism;

The classic traits of a upir:

Enhanced strength

Heightened senses

Mesmerization

Unnatural speed

-- No, stop it! I had to physically smack my head to snap out of it this time. Roman wasn't a fucking upir, he was just in withdrawal as Peter said! 

... Right?

The alcohol was certainly not helping my state right now.

As I stood glued to the wall like the biggest wallflower known to man, I pondered the question that had haunted me all day; why was Roman so scared to talk to me? After I had heard how he spoke of me to Jessica, and how he had just called me his girl to Daniel along with the whole fight for my honour, it surely couldn't be a question of his feelings towards me?

This seemed to be an evening of many flashbacks; Letha's words were suddenly ringing in my ears-- "It usually helps to dig into what set him off. And then, when you think you have the answer, rip it apart and look through the pieces,"

... Fine. Let's start.

What had set him off? It was clearly that I didn't want to sleep with him last night, right?

Okay-- Now I had to rip it apart and look through the pieces.

"Aren't you breaking up with me?" he'd asked earlier today. Roman seemed genuinely confused that I wasn't there to dump him. Had he really expected me to discard of him so quickly over a simple miscommunication? 

Then it hit me that Roman might be crazy enough to have avoided me all along because he thought the next conversation would be the one where I'd finish the job. 

With a loud groan, I started my search around the party. Idiot! I was going to find this man no matter what. If I had to pin him down and scream some sense into him, so be it.

He wasn't downstairs— I could exclude that after a quick swipe of the floor. I somehow managed to make my way through the dense crowd on the stairs, now checking every room. To be honest, I was terrified of walking in on something I didn't want to see, but a tiny part of me thought it might even be good for me to see just a snippet-- I didn't know much about real sex, anyway. Still, I let out a relieved sigh when I scoured all the rooms without having violated my vision. 

But my relief didn't last long. I allowed my shoulders to slump as I came to a halt, realizing I had circled the upper floor with no trace of him. The deafening music was starting to hurt my ears, and I was about to cover them when I suddenly heard a loud bang coming from the closet to my right followed by a breathy, angry shit. 

Oh my. Gotcha. I approached the door with careful steps, holding back a beaming smile as I knocked twice; "Roman...?"

I heard him shuffling around, a short groan following; "... Nope," 

It took a lot of concentration to not burst out into a fit of laughter. It felt as though all my anger left my body, unable to concentrate on anything other than how ridiculously cute he was when he was drunk like this. "Can I come in?"

"... That's what he said,"

"Come in? I think you might've gotten it a little twisted,"

I could almost hear him rolling his eyes; "Who are you to argue, virgin?"

Enough was enough. With a small creak, I opened the door to the closet--

Oh.

This was certainly not the sight I expected to see. Roman's green eyes immediately found mine, big with embarrassment. There he was, splayed out on the floor of the tiny closet with a hot pink crop top on his head. I assumed it had landed on him after he fell over, and I tried to take a mental image for later amusement. 

I was about to laugh-- However, as I closed the door behind me and stared down at Roman's flushed face, almost the same colour as the ridiculous pink crop top, I just melted. Easy as that. All the pent-up anger, all the frustration I wanted to take out on him, it all liquified into molten lava and became one with the earth.

What a mess he was. What an absolute, utter mess. Roman's green eyes were big, huge even, as he stared up at me, his breath coming out in small, ragged heaves. He looked terrified of my next words, like he was bracing for a good verbal beating--

I crouched down, making space between his long legs that practically took up the whole closet. With careful movements, I pulled the crop top off his head and cupped his pretty face; "Rome," I cooed. "You thought I was going to break up with you?"

It felt like I was talking to a child. I was aware I risked Roman exploding on me for taking that tone with him, but I figured he was too drunk to really sense it. "Yeah," he breathed, keening against my touch. "Makes sense that you'd want to."

Fuck, he was unbearably cute, like a lost little puppy. "No, it doesn't," I murmured. Why was it so hard for him to understand? "I'm not breaking up with you. Is that why you've been avoiding me today? Were you worried I was going to do that?"

Almost like a child, Roman nodded. "I just... don't want to lose you. But I fucked up again," he whispered, practically pouting. "I was so mean. Last night and today."

I stroked my thumb over his cheek, watching his response to my attempts at comfort. Something told me he hadn't been held like this before. "Roman... You're not losing me any time soon, and you were obviously a little hurt too. I guess it's a... vulnerable thing to initiate. You're allowed to feel what you feel,"

"But it was wrong,"

"What was?"

"My feelings," he mumbled. "It's just-- I'm not used to caring about a girl like this. Previously, if I didn't get my way, I could leave with no repercussions. But this time, it hit me about ten minutes later on the highway that this was you and not some random girl. You. And I was just so consumed with the urge to... ugh, I don't want to say it out loud, but you know. It gets unbearable at times. I haven't wanted anyone like this before, I just don't know how the fuck to behave!"

I was sure my cheeks were burning. Holy fuck. "Ah... I see," My knees got tired from crouching, so I sat down on the little free space left on the floor. "Look, your feelings aren't wrong. They never are. Your feelings are your feelings. But what I don't get is that I told you I wasn't up for... sex simply because my parents were on the other side of the wall. I would totally be up for it if they weren't. Did you not register that, maybe?"

"I don't know, but... it's not really about the sex. I guess it got me wondering whether you're just a little shy, or if you secretly don't want to be with me anymore," Roman took my hands into his before his gaze shied away. His voice lowered into a barely audible whisper as he closed his eyes and leaned his head against the nearby wall; "You didn't once say you wanted me too. I guess I just concluded you didn't want me at all."

I fought the instinct to freeze. I saw his point, recognized his anxiety (and severe attachment issues), yet I needed to point out one very simple truth;  "But... I'm crazy about you. You know I want you,"

"No, I don't," he breathed. "You make me feel like a fucking rapist."

"A... What?!" I gave his hands a harsh squeeze-- "Roman, what are even you saying?"

He scoffed, eyeing me with his head still leaning against the wall. Hiccuping from all the alcohol, he spoke; "I'm always on you like a fucking dog in heat. You never initiate, and I'm constantly worrying whether I'm taking advantage or not. And to make that clear, that's not what I want to do,"

All of this was beyond shocking to hear. Was this maybe also the supposed withdrawal speaking? "Rome, you're not taking advantage. Not at all! I'm just... shy, I guess?" I brought one of his hands up to my mouth, pressing my lips against his knuckles. "I never thought you needed to hear me say it too. I'm sorry."

Surprisingly, Roman pouted-- "Say it, then," he whined. Had he been standing, I was sure he'd stomp his foot like a toddler.

I couldn't help but smile. I liked whiny-drunk Roman. "Say what, Rome?"

"Spit it out,"

"Would you stop running away from me then?"

"... Yes,"

I took a deep breath, suppressing a nervous giggle. Roman's green eyes drilled into me, holding me still as I tried to find the courage to say it to his face. It was nearly impossible, and I felt my cheeks flush a rather peculiar shade of pink, similar to Roman's alcohol-flush. And also the hot pink crop top. I was definitely stealing that one.

I let go of Roman's hands, crawling over to straddle his lap. My arms draped around his neck, and he shifted as he looked up at me with those gorgeous, green eyes of his. My Roman. "You already know I'm crazy about you,"

"Yeah, you tree-carving freak," 

"Hey!" Now, it was impossible not to laugh. Thankfully, he laughed with me. "But sure, I'll take it. I carved our initials into a tree, and I'd do it all over again. And you know why?"

Roman's eyes practically sparkled; "Why?"

I lowered my face to hover right above his, feeling his hot breath against my parted lips. "Because I crave you. Carnally," I whispered, watching his pupils rapidly widen. "What am I if not yours? Yours to take, yours to claim, yours to... fuck."

Roman's signature smirk was back, shinier than ever. "Now, now, don't be shy with it," he purred, his arms snaking around my waist to pull me flush against him. "Say more."

Fucking hell. There was certainly no space to hold back any longer. "Yeah, you want more?" I had to bite back a smirk of my own. "Don't be a fucking brat, then. Kiss me if you do."

Roman's eyes widened, not expecting me to say anything remotely close to that. Still, his lips parted as his smirk morphed into a blinding grin. With one smooth move, he ran one hand up into my hair, pulling me in for the shortest, sweetest kiss known to man. "I'm impatient," he said. "Go on."

"Brat," It felt nice to finally say that out loud. From the first time I had a proper conversation with him, that word had been stuck in my mind. 

Roman rolled his eyes, letting me laugh into the needy kiss that followed. It didn't take long before I melted, relishing in the soft pillows of his lips against mine, the feeling I had longed for ever since he stormed off my roof last night. "I want you," I said, mouthing my words into the kiss. "So bad. So, so bad."

Roman moaned-- "More,"

My hands went up into his hair, fingers reaching for the tips of his dark locks to press him further against me as the kiss deepened. I had never felt this desperate before in my life. Still, I somehow found the strength to pull away; I got an idea. "No. We're playing a little game first,"

Roman groaned, glaring at me as he rested his head against the wall. "For fuck's sake," he mumbled. "Now?"

"Now," I placed my hands on his chest, unable to hold my laugh. My little idea was genius. "Have you noticed where we are?"

"... At a party?"

"Where?"

"In a closet?--" Roman's words came to a halt as his eyes widened, and a knowing grin spread across his plush lips. "Oh my."

I hummed, pressing my fingers into his chest. Right now, I was sure I had adopted the classic Roman-smirk; "Up for a round of seven minutes in heaven?"

"... Isn't it a little blasphemous to play without the bottle?" Roman proceeded to laugh, rubbing circles into my thighs. "Actually, fuck yeah. I’m up for it.”

"Seven minutes," I purred, grabbing my phone and putting on a timer. "You once said that seven minutes with you were enough to show everything I needed to know about being with you in that way..." 

To be honest, I had no idea what had come over me. Was it perhaps the alcohol? But the intrigue shimmering in Roman's keen eyes told me all I needed to know-- I watched his pupils expand as the hands I had rested against his chest started traveling down his body. And Jessica thought I couldn't handle him sexually? Hah! "It seems it's my turn to show how it would be with me, no?" 

Roman's lips parted, staring up at me in disbelief; "If you're just teasing me now, I'm going to die on the spot. I swear. My death will be on your hands,"

I could only laugh, biting down on my lip to lower my voice. "Don't you dare," I said, slowly reaching for the clasp of his belt. 

Watching the widening of Roman's big, green eyes never failed to amuse me, especially not now. "Baby," he breathed, his lips curving into a smile. "Don't fuck with me, I swear--"

"Am not," After unbuckling Roman's belt, I decided to tease him by trailing my hands away from the zip of his pants, my fingers ghosting over his hard-on. It seemed the excitement was getting to him already, and to my surprise, I could feel him hardening beneath my palms. 

The loud music was so far away now, just as everything else was-- My mind was even further away, possibly residing on the planet Neptune, because how the hell had I managed to convince myself I knew how to do this? 

Fuck it-- it can't be that hard, right?

Certainly not harder than Roman was now, anyway. 

This was an enigma to me, all of it. I could only go off instinct; and just as I was about to slide my hand beneath the band of his boxers, Roman grabbed my hand. "Hold on," he breathed, bringing my palm to his lips. "Step one is to never go anywhere dry." His green eyes locked on mine, not breaking eye contact as he placed several wet kisses against my palm, slicking it. Shivers ran down my spine as I felt his tongue swipe along my skin, because fuck, this was intense-- my breath hitched. Roman's soft laugh rang in my ears as he let go of my hand, giving back the control. 

Fuck. My heart was pounding. Were my hands shaking? I had no idea-- it felt as though I had blacked out for a few seconds, and when Roman pulled me into a heated kiss and brought me back to my senses, my fingers were gently brushing against the hard tip of his cock. 

I could feel Roman's breath hitch just slightly against my lips, and it immediately made my cheeks burn. What the fuck was I doing? I so desperately hoped no one would walk in on us like this, me straddling him with his dick in my hand. That would certainly only taint my reputation further-- no, actually, fuck that. I wanted to stay connected like this forever, Roman's soft lips moving against mine with a need I didn't remember in him. 

It took a lot of willpower to break the kiss even just for a second, but it was too damn fucking dark in this stupid closet. I watched as Roman's lashes fluttered, how his chest raised in heaving motions, how the vial of my blood rested against the peak of his sternum-- I decided to go for the wish to kiss him right there. 

Roman's skin was so unbelievably soft. There was no flavour to it as I swiped my tongue against his collarbone, not even a trace of alcohol from his perfume, and this was the moment it dawned on me that this might be my favourite place to kiss him. I didn't often have access, but when I did, I could feel the soft raise of his shoulders with his every breath-- and fuck, how I loved his shoulders. I finally wrapped my fingers around his length, deciding not to toy with him any longer. 

He let out a shaky breath just as I sucked down on his collarbone to leave a mark; Roman was long gone now. His head lolled to the side, his breath escaping him with a short huff. "Fuck," he whispered, bringing his hand up to twist into the nape of my neck, pulling me away from him to press the soft pillows of his mouth against mine in another hot, needy kiss.

This was certainly a big difference to the last time we had played this game. We had barely kissed properly, and our lips had only grazed each other compared to whatever this was. I couldn't believe how unbelievably scared I had been the first time.

I smiled into the kiss, remembering our first. 

Roman cursed against my lips, his hips bucking just slightly into my grip around his cock. With his free hand, he placed his on top of mine, guiding me to pick up my pace.

I realized my heart was almost thumping to the exact same pace as the music downstairs-- "Is this okay?" I whispered, relishing in the short breaths of pleasure spilling from his mouth.

Roman shot me a look, although it didn't look as intimidating as he probably intended; with his lids halfway closed, the hunger for me shone through. "You know damn well,"

It was impossible not to smile. God, I was so crazy about this man. "Rome?"

A hum.

I leaned in closer, pressing a sweet kiss against his ear; "I want you so bad," I whispered, feeling his breath hitch as I kissed down his jaw. "I need you to know that. Rome, I always want you." Never in a million years did I think I'd ever see him like this, panting beneath me, pre-cum spilling from the slit of his cock. Never in my wildest dreams. But he had driven me near mad with his stupidity these past twenty-four hours, so I had no problem bringing him down to the depths of vulnerability with me-- finally, we had switched places.

Roman's hands traveled up my thighs, giving my ass a proper squeeze as he groaned just slightly; "Want you too," he breathed, letting his head rest against the wall as I worked my digits around his length. His lips parted, his eyes shut as his lashes fluttered just slightly; "Always. Always want— hah, want you. You know me."

Had I not been so taken with the sheer beauty of him right now, I would've swooned. I was shocked I hadn't fainted from how hard my heart was beating, anyway. "I adore you, Rome. Do you know that?"

A small yeah was Roman's only reply, his head rolling back and forth, thighs clenching, cock twitching. He was close. His next words were rushed, quick; "Fuck, where do I...? Fuck--" 

"Don't think about it," I murmured, my free hand running gently through his hair. Slowly, I reached for the pink crop top nearby; this was my only solution at the moment. "Just enjoy."

Roman practically whimpered; "Shit, shit, gonna--"

I watched as he threw his head back, panting hard as he spilled into the top. I felt his warm cum running down the inside of it as I stroked him through his high. "Fuck, fuck--" Roman was rambling at this point, failing to steady his breath through it.

My lips parted, feeling as though I had bitten into the forbidden fruit. The image before me gave me a high, unlike anything I had ever had before. It was probably similar to the feeling Roman used to achieve through cocaine use. I took another quick mental snapshot, knowing this was a sight I wanted to keep for later-- only in case of emergencies, of course. I couldn't help but feel a little proud that I had figured out how to do this stuff to him.

Roman blinked twice, his mind slowly returning to his body. He laughed a little at the sight of the hot pink crop top, shaking his head. "Damn," he breathed. "I'm a little horrified I didn't last seven minutes."

Oh, silly boy-- "Nah, I'm glad you didn't. My hand would be cramping up," I leaned forward with a soft giggle, kissing the tip of Roman's nose as he let out a sigh of relief. "And I also proved my damn point."

He blinked up at me as I pulled away. "Which was...?"

The timer rung-- "Seven minutes are more than enough," 

"Right. That's my line," Roman tucked himself back into his jeans with a huff, laughing softly in a state of denial. "Definitely didn't expect this tonight... Good job." The corners of his mouth slowly curved upwards as he placed a sweet kiss against my cheek. "I'm just so damn glad we're not breaking up."

I had forgotten about that situation for a few minutes, and being reminded of it again was like being slapped out of a nap. "Of course we're not, Roman," I kissed the tip of his nose as I rolled up the crop top-- that felt wrong on all accounts. "If you get all manic about something like that again, please don't shut me out. I nearly went mad."

Roman's pupils dilated further as he reached for the vial of my blood around his neck, twirling it around his finger. "Yeah, we can't break up... Or else that poor tree would've been vandalized for nothing,"

I rolled my eyes. He was never going to let that go, was he? "Alright, that's enough," I mumbled, watching as Roman brought the vial to his lips to press a short kiss against my blood-- it felt odd but intimate. Was he maybe still a little drunk? "Let's get you home, okay? I'll drive your car." With shaky steps, I got up from his lap, bunching up the crop top in one hand. 

Roman hiccuped-- drunk. It was confirmed. "I don't want to," he whined. 

"Come on, Rome, we can't stay in this cramped up fucking closet all night!--"

"Well, what are you gonna do? Throw me over your shoulder and carry me downstairs?"

For fuck's sake. It was impossible not to laugh at that mental image. "We can't stay here any longer! Peter's gonna think we're fucking somewhere, and I certainly don't want to be known as the girl that has sex at parties!--"

"My mom is out of town," Roman said, effectively cutting me off. "Sleep over."

My eyes widened. I knew what that meant. Clutching the damp crop top in my hand, I felt the green of his gaze swallow me whole; "Come on. It'll be fun," Roman got up from the floor, tilting his head a little as he slowly inched forward, making my back hit the wall with the two only steps there were possible to take in this closet. He continued; "Nothing has to happen, but I just... I want to roll around in bed with you in the morning. No interruptions, no parents, nothing. Just us."

I was shocked I didn't become a puddle of mush on the floor. "Just us?"

"Just us," Roman breathed, leaning down to press a short kiss against my lips. But what came next was unexpected; "... And my pet tarantula."

"What?!"

Roman only laughed, his pupils widening with pleasure at the sight of my terror. Some things never change. "Just kidding, baby," he purred, placing a hand on the small of my back as he opened the closet door. And before I had the chance to properly step out of it, he leaned down to whisper against my ear; "It's actually a giant centipede. Lovely pet."

I nearly squirmed out of his grip, shivering. "Please tell me you're joking!" 

Seriously, when will I ever learn? Roman continued to laugh, waving to a few people who passed us by in the corridor as we walked down the hall. "Of course I am,"

"I'm not leaving with you if you have some creepy animal there, I swear!"

"Fine, fine!" He kissed the top of my head, and I felt him smile against my hair. "There are no scary animals there... Just me."

Before I had the opportunity to answer, Roman groaned loudly as he glanced at the crowded stairs when we approached, rolling his eyes. "Ugh, why do people always crowd the goddamn stairs?" He turned back to me; "I just need to find Peter and swipe my keys--"

"Why does he have your keys?"

"... I was threatening to jam them into the side of this guy's head earlier, but that's not important," Roman shot me a charming smile as though he hadn't just said that. "But just hold onto me, okay? I'll wade us through." 

So that's what I did; I clutched onto Roman's hand, feeling his long fingers wrapping around mine as he made way through the crowd, occasionally turning to greet a few people he knew. I was so damn ready to get to his place, to lie down on a bed, and get away from this loud music. Still, a part of me knew we wouldn't be able to stay away from each other tonight, and I felt my chest swell with warmth at the thought of what might happen. What would happen.

But just as I was finally relaxed again and the two of us almost made it down the stairs, I felt another hand on my shoulder the same second Roman turned away to say hi to a friend of his. I turned, gasping just slightly at the shock of a cold touch, and the rest of my breath followed as it dawned on me who I was facing. 

Letha's green eyes were wide, almost as though she had seen a ghost. For a second there, I thought she could read my mind and understand why I was clutching onto a damp crop top. It was still warm-- why was I finding that hot right now? God, I was going insane. But I knew that the sight of Roman and I together would never be a pleasant one for Letha, so I stared back at her with the same bewilderment-- why had she stopped me? 

Letha's following words were almost icy to the touch, hollow to the ear; "Was I right?" 

It felt as though my world stilled. Time stilled. Just for a second, I felt as though I could wade my free hand through the coldness of her phrase, and I could wave away the mirage. She was concerned, curious. Had she genuinely wanted to help me get through this fight with Roman? 

I realized that tonight might be a night of many firsts. My first handjob, my first... time (possibly), and my first step of forgiveness. "Yeah," I breathed. "You were. Thank you." 

Letha's face softened as a relieved sigh escaped her, nodding her head slowly. It had been a long time since the last time she had heard those words from me. "Any time," 

Had Roman not squeezed my hand, I was sure I'd continue standing there, just staring into the eyes of my previous best friend. They looked so, so similar-- Had Letha not been blonde, I would've mistaken them for siblings. Snapping out of it, I turned to my boyfriend who was too busy scowling at his cousin to notice how calm I was about meeting her. "Let's go," he mumbled, repressed jealousy dripping from his voice as another squeeze of my fingers ensued. 

"Yeah... Let's,"

(a/n: thank you so so much for reading!!! here's PART 1, PART 2, PART 3, PART 4, PART 5, PART 6, PART 7, PART 8, if you're interested<333 mwah!!)

tagging those that seemed interested!!<333

@mentallyscreamingsincebirth @putherup @corawithfanfiction @vladsgirlxx

@iamaslytherin0 @sexualparkour @the-universe-is-complicated @heavenly-bratt

@lafemme-nk @namiusedbubble @useyourwandbro @strmborns @literally-lani

@virgosapphire79 @star-girl-04 @veyzus @ddipotassium @pecxiebu

@mil88691 @iloveyoutodeathbutimdrowning @katifefe @sn0wybowie-blog

@moochiester @zizuras @blackbluerose666 @rosecoloureddudez

[arminsumi]

Sleepyhead — 五夏

NOTE: idk if writing this made me sadder or was therapeutic either way let's cry together :')

SUMMARY — During your youth, you, Geto and Gojo made a magic charm that would reconnect the three of you in a different reality one day by a golden silk thread.

WARNINGS — not proofread, "just a dream" trope but really u just shifted realities and forgot your other life, angst, implied death / crossing over, based on the latest chapter bc i'm in pain and when i'm in pain i write 👍 sooo just in case: jjk manga spoilers (major char death, chapter 236)

Gojo caressed your cheek and muttered " You're such a pretty crier, but don't cry for me. Sh, I'm right here, baby, I'm right here. ", keeping his other hand intertwined with yours.

. . .

Your two eyes blinking out of a dream, coming back to reality. Or was it the other way around? Maybe you were awaking into a lucid dream.

At first it's a white space. A void. There's nothing but neutrality and emptiness. Then a golden silk thread is sewn across your chest. It leads down a corridor of white, one that stretches so far it almost feels like you're taking an infinite walk.

There's a door at the end, you open it. And all there is behind it is your old classroom, just as it was. There's Gojo Satoru, smiling that wide toothy smile like nothing in the world is wrong. And there's Geto Suguru, shaking his head and sighing a laugh over his best friend's ridiculousness. And there's Shoko Ieiri, peering over her folded arms as she rests her chin on the desk sleepily.

Walking obliviously into this memory while the real world continues on outside, you completely detach from reality and cross over. Why is it this memory ? It was such an ordinary day.

But it wasn't an ordinary day, you're mistaken; that day you wove a golden silk thread and imbued it with something, magic is a good word but no — it was an otherworldly "magic", something that's not sorcery.

You drift through this classroom memory, Gojo says hello and Geto smiles. Before you realize, you're floating past the exit door and enter another room — another memory.

It's then that you realize you're just drifting along the silk thread, hopping across each memory that you wove into it; their purpose to carry you over into another reality entirely.

More memories. More. And then some more. You're travelling through them, looking at them as if through a dream lens, half-detached, in a state of limbo. Not between life and death, but between realities where you're alive.

Maybe it was cruel.

The three of you leaving the world behind, shifting into different realities at your death, just so you could be happy and peaceful.

Final memories roll by, and you shift over; and in an instant, that whole journey seeps out of your mind.

You wake up just like any other day. Nothing is out of the ordinary. Gojo is crushing you with his weight, forcing you to blink awake and mumble groggily.

That was a long dream.

" Wakey wakey, sleepyhead — full body attack ! Okay, seriously, wake up. I want breakfast and I can't eat it unless you're with me. You know that. Why are you crying ? Did you have a nightmare ? Oh really ? What was it about ? "

Gojo follows you like a puppy throughout your morning routine. Though really, it feels like a mourning routine this time. Your chest feels so heavy, and you keep hugging him as if you haven't seen him in years.

" Hey, Suguru listen to Y/n's fucked up dream. It's insane, like a manga plot or some shit. Wish I had dreams of that. You should write it. "

" Oh ? Do tell. I'm curious. Aw, why the hug ? Y/n ? You okay ? Come on, let's make some pancakes. "

You watch the two of them in this ordinary habitat; Gojo lazing at the kitchen doorframe, talking about the awful ending to his favorite story.

" Y/n, you're zoning out. "

" Are you crying ?! "

" Sorry. I just missed you guys. I don't know why. "

" But we saw each other yesterday. We spent the whole night together. It was my birthday. "

" Yeah, and that's what's freaky; I feel like I just travelled for years. It feels surreal to look at the two of you. "

" Don't cry, come here. Satoru, take care of the pancake it's gonna burn. Y/n, wanna talk about it ? "

" No, I just want to hug you two. "

" GROUP HUG. "

" Satoru you're suffocating her. "

" Good group hugs are suffocating ! "

You stay with them in a long group hug. Everything feels alright.

" . . . the pancake is burning."

Suguru tends to it.

Satoru looks at you. " Cryin' ? Still ? Come here. You're so sensitive. "

He engulfs you in a hug again. Warm, soft, nice-smelling; this is definitely your ordinary reality. What a bizarre dream, though. Truly a bizarre dream.

" So how'd I die in your dream ? " he asks curiously.

" I don't want to talk about it. I just want to cry. " you choke, crying more into his chest. Suguru scolds him from the stove, while he scrapes burnt pancake batter off the pan.

Satoru looks down at you, cupping your one cheek, and says something that you swear you've heard before.

" Such a pretty crier. But don't cry for me. Sh, I'm right here, baby, I'm right here. "

© arminsumi

Do not plagiarize / repost / translate / copy layouts / etc.

Do not steal what I've worked hard to create.

[mphoenix-7]

Bitter Allies [Soap x Reader]

Chapter 6: The Cabin: Day 2

Summary: You suffer through yet another day in hell with Soap. Near the end though, you also come to learn that he is also human.

Word Count: 5,830

Warnings: NSFW, 18+, swearing, angst, strong language, arguing, suggestive language, suggestive scenes, mentions of trauma, PTSD, slight nudity

A/N: I added almost 1,000 more words while editing. Story is about to get realllyyyy good! Enjoy :)

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Bitter Allies • Part 6

You wake up the next morning with sunlight pouring through the windows. The air inside the cabin is still a little chilly, but the inside of the liner Soap gave you last night is now too warm. You stretch your arms, pushing the liner down in the process, and look over to Soap's cot. It's already empty and neatly remade.

You're not sure what time it is, but after last night, you're sure you've slept in more than you normally would. Slowly sitting up, you rub your face a bit, thoughts going to yesterday. You still couldn't believe Soap had apologized to you and that he'd given you his liner. It didn't seem real. You would have thought it was all a dream if it hadn't been for you waking up in said liner.

You wonder if things will be different today or if it'll be like nothing happened.

Not bothering to get dressed just yet until you know exactly where Soap is, you head to the kitchen. He's not in there. The pot and your plates from last night are still sitting in the same spots, and you make a note to yourself to wash them later.

The next place you check is outside by the lake. Soap might have just been on the porch or out by the water. You step outside, wrapping your arms around you slightly, and walk down the two steps. Looking around though, you still don't see him anywhere. The fear that he's left again begins to simmer in the pit of your stomach, but he could just be in the bathroom. You're not going to go check there though.

Instead you just wait outside for a few minutes to see if he'll come out of the outhouse and take a moment to enjoy the morning air. It's so beautiful outside, and you definitely wouldn't mind going for a walk later. You also wouldn't mind taking a bath today. Your skin feels sticky with sweat from the liner.

After a moment, with Soap still not showing his face, you decide that he must have went for a walk or a morning run. So much for your rules.

Sighing, you head back into the cabin. As long as Soap was going to be gone, you figured you might as well take that opportunity to get dressed, do the dishes, and start breakfast. You would have bathed too, but you weren't going to risk Soap coming back while you were out there.

Back inside, you make your way to the bedroom and push the door open. Instantly though, you're regretting it. You are one step into the room before you instantly freeze. Your eyes are wide, your cheeks are burning, and your jaw drops as you're met with a butt naked Soap MacTavish.

"States!" He shouts in surprise, his gaze having snapped over to yours the second he hears you push the door open. He reacts instantly, using the underwear he was about to slip on to cover his front and then frantically grabbing more of his laid out clothes to do a better job. "What the fuck?! Get out!"

His voice snaps you out of your state of shock, and you're quickly trying to apology, run away, and shut the door all at the same time.

"I-I'm sorry! I'm so sorry!" You babble, trying to back up and hitting your back on the doorframe in the process. You quickly turn and leave, slamming the door shut as Soap continues to shout at you.

"What the fuck! What happened to knocking!" He shouts through the door, as you start to pace in the kitchen, hands on your burning cheeks.

"I don't know! I didn't think you were here!!" You shout back at him, embarrassed beyond belief. Soap had been quick to cover his junk up, but you'd still caught a glimpse of it. You were going to be scarred for life.

"I shut the fucking door! How the hell did you not know I was here?!" He continues. He sort of had a point there. You had left the door open originally.

"I just thought it shut by itself! I don't fucking know! The door doesn't exactly stay wide open!" You just weren't thinking. You thought he was gone. Surely you would have heard him if he came back inside. The front door wasn't exactly quiet when you opened or shut it, and you'd only been outside for maybe a minute.

"Steaming Jesus! If the door is shut, you knock!" Soap swings the door open and steps out, but you can't look at him even if he's fully dressed now.

"I get it! Noted!" You yell back at him. "It's not like I did it on purpose! I'd never want to see that in a million years! And where were you exactly? I didn't see you anywhere this morning, and I didn't hear you come back! I figured you just left again!"

"I got up early and went for a run! Some of us are trying to keep with our normal schedules!"

"Don't call me lazy!"

"I'm not calling you lazy!"

"You're implying it! But that's not the point! The point is you left without telling me!" You finally bring yourself to look at him. His face is red, and his eyes are burning with a mix of embarrassment and anger.

"You were asleep! What, you wanted me to wake you up and then deal with your pissy ass cause I interrupted your beauty sleep? Plus last night, if I remember correctly, you said I only had to tell you if it was for more than an hour. I was gone for thirty minutes! Forty at most!"

"Yes! You should have woken me up! A heads up would have been nice! I didn't know how long you'd been gone or when you'd be back. I thought you were still gone when I came in! I didn't hear you come back!"

"That sounds like it's your problem then! I came through the loudest fucking door! I saw you in the back, you should have heard me!"

"You could have said hi? Done something to make sure I was aware that you were back instead of just assuming I knew!"

"See there ya go again! Pushin' the blame onto someone else! No one is as fucking perfect as you, aye?"

"That's not what I'm doing! You're trying to blame all of this on me! I'm just saying there are things you could have done too!"

"Like left the door open? That way you couldn't be blamed for opening it cause it was already open?"

There was no winning with him. He'd find any way to twist your words and make it seem like you were being the unreasonable one. Rolling your eyes, you decide you've had enough. It seemed yesterday changed anything.

"You want to act like child then fine! Fucking act like a child! I don't know how the task force even deals with you."

You try to leave. You want to go into the bedroom, get dressed, and then leave for a bit to cool off. The second you try to pass Soap though, grabs your arm and forces you back against the wall. Your jaw is tight as he pins you. He's holding your wrist tightly, keeping it pressed firmly against the wall above your head. Your hand that's not being pinned quickly presses into his chest in an attempt to keep some distance.

"My task force was fucking perfect until you came along." He says to you in a deep and dangerous voice. "And then Price just had to bring in one more. He just had to bring you in. Our name doesn't even make sense now. One-four-one. Suppose to only have us four. Not five." He seethes. "We don't need you on our team. Not some fucking bonnie lass from the States, yet here you are."

You keep eye contact with him the whole time. Even in the position he had you in, you don't feel like you're in danger. He's holding your wrist tightly, but he's not excessively squeezing it or cutting off circulation. You're not going to have bruises. And he is letting you push him back. His chest is pressed against your hand, but he's not trying to crowd you. Applying more pressure to his chest makes him back off slightly.

Still his eyes are dangerous as they bore into your own. They’re filled with disdain as he towers over you, dominating the space between you. You’re trying to match his gaze, fight back against him and not let him win.

Then, for some messed up reason, you think about this morning and seeing Soap naked. You’re shocked as the image enters your mind, and you’re cheeks start to get rosy. You know your glare is slipping as you become flustered, and you need to break away now before Soap can figure out what you’re thinking about. His gaze is already turning slightly confused as he begins to notice the shift in your behavior.

"Why do you hate me, Soap?" You blurt. It’s the first thing that comes to mind to ask him.

Your question successfully throws him off. You swear you see his eyes soften for just a moment when you ask him that, but it's hard to tell with your mind racing. He's silent for a moment, just glaring back at you. The tension between you is palpable, his breath warm against your face, his proximity sending an unexpected shiver down your spine.

Finally, he drops your wrist and takes a step back. "I don't need to justify my reasons." He scowls. "I'm going to the lake. Just fucking learn how to knock."

You watch him leave and slam the door, massaging your wrist slightly as you do. Now that he’s gone, you can feel your heart racing in your chest, the pace matching the phantom thumps still felt in your finger tips that’d been pressed to his chest.

You shake your head, taking a deep breath to calm your pulse. The first time you run into him today, and you manage to blow up at each other. It shouldn't surprise you really, but you truly had hoped things would be different this morning after last night.

You slowly make your way to the window and peek outside. Soap is over by the lake, sitting against a tree by the waters edge. He’s running his hand through his hair and then burying his face in both hands, looking like he’s trying to calm himself down. It doesn’t look as though he’s going to be leaving anytime soon.

When he doesn't get up, you go into the bedroom and shut the door softly behind you. Soap's clothes he'd taken off this morning were on the floor. You kick them more over to his side of the room and then go to get changed yourself.

As you strip out of your pajamas, the cool air brushes against your skin, a stark contrast to the lingering warmth from Soap’s body when he had pinned you against the wall. Your cheeks start to flush again, and you feel a strange mix of emotions that you can’t quite decipher.

You pull on a fresh set of clothes, but your mind keeps drifting back to the way Soap’s eyes had locked onto yours, the way his chest had felt under your palm. There was something there, something you couldn’t quite put your finger on, but it left you feeling unsettled and oddly warm.

Once you’re dressed, you sit on the edge of the bed, trying to make sense of your feelings. The intensity of the encounter lingers, a confusing blend of anger, frustration, and something else you can’t quite name. Soap has never made you feel this way before. You’ve never left an argument with him feeling his… odd. And you sure as hell have never imaged him naked.

You sigh and get up, moving into the kitchen. You hope making something to eat will take your mind off everything.

You glance towards the window again, catching another glimpse of Soap by the lake. Despite the distance, you can almost feel the tension that still hangs between you, a thread pulled taut, waiting to snap or be cut. You don’t understand it, but you can’t deny it’s there.

Looking away from him, you focus on breakfast. Your plate was still dirty from last, so you were forced to make food that didn't necessarily require a plate. You'd planned on cleaning it before you started breakfast, but Soap being outside deterred you from that. You ended up just putting peanut butter on a slice of bread and drinking some water.

You ate slowly, making a list of things you wanted to get done today. The plates needed to be cleaned, you wanted to take a bath, and more fire wood needed to be collected. Unfortunately all those things required being outside, right where Soap was.

After what felt like an hour of waiting around, waiting for Soap to move on and go somewhere else, he’s still sitting by the water's edge. You eventually got impatient and decided to just get it over with. Soap had proven yesterday he could sulk for hours and hours, and you didn't want to wait around all day for him to stop. Tension or not be damned.

Gathering up the plates, utensils, and the pot you used last night, you step outside and make your way to the water's edge. However, you'd left Soap's dishes inside. If he was going to treat you the way he currently was, you saw no reason to do his dishes for him.

You eye Soap as you approach the lake. He'd decided to sit a few feet away from the only spot where you had easy access to the water. As you get closer, he looks over to you, a very familiar scowl on his face. The second his gaze turns to you, you stare straight ahead, trying to pretend he simply isn't there. Your skin prickles though, a constant reminder he’s there.

You kneel at the water's edge and get to work on rinsing off the food from your plate. Of course this wasn't all you were planning on doing to clean everything. You would boil water and disinfect everything once all the scraps were rinsed off.

"You're joking right?" Soap comments from where he sits. He'd been watching you rinse the plates off, arms crossed over his chest.

"Don't talk to me." You warn, not in the mood right now to get into something else with him. To make that still lingering tension build back up again.

Soap huffs at you. "You better not be cleaning my stuff." You hear him move a bit to try and get a better look at all the things you'd brought to clean.

"Relax, I left all your shit in the cabin. Wouldn't dream of ever doing anything nice for you."

"Well good. I don't think contaminating the plate and utensils I use to eat is doing anything nice for me." He settles back against the tree, but you can still feel him watching you. His gaze makes your skin boil.

"I know how to properly clean dishes." You grumble, setting the plate aside and moving on to the pot. "I'm going to boil water once I get all the food washed off. Is that fine with you?"

"I don't fucking care what you do. Make yourself sick, I don't give a shite."

"Ok great, so stop talking to me." You snap, trying to scrub off some of the residue on the side of the pan with your nail. You hadn't packed any sponges or other cleaning supplies, and Price didn't provide them.

Soap rolls his eyes as you snap at him. “Away an bail yer heid.” You hear him grumble, not understanding his Scottish drawl, but you know he’s most likely said something insulting.

Glancing over your shoulder, you watch as he gets up. He was heading back to the cabin, which you were fine with for now. It allowed your shoulders to relax and let you finish your cleaning in peace.

Once you were done, you filled the cooking pot with water and carried it back to the cabin to boil it. The door to the bedroom was shut, telling you Soap was most likely in there. Unless he was being childish and shut it before leaving the cabin. All to just make you knock for no reason.

After the water boils, and you use it to finish sterilizing your dishes, you want to do the next thing on your little to-do list. Bathe. Of course you need to go into the bedroom briefly to get things to bathe with.

Standing outside the door for a long moment, you try to psych yourself up a bit before tapping softly on the wood. Your heart is pounding in anticipation like you’re getting ready to enter a war zone.

"You have pants on in there?" You ask, crossing your arms as you wait for his response. 

"She does learn!" You hear Soap's muffled voice say through the door.

You roll your eyes and repeat your question, wanting an answer before you walked in and scarred yourself again. "Do you have fucking clothes on or not?"

"Of course! Otherwise I would've said 'give me a second' or 'hang on, still getting dressed' now wouldn't I?"

You growl under breath and push the door open, flipping Soap off as you walk in. He's on his cot, back against the wall, and one of those black journals he brought opened and propped against his knees. You can't see its contents, but you don't really care to look.

"Oh that's very ladylike." He scolds, turning back to looking at his book.

"You're no gentleman yourself." You throw back, pulling open your drawer to get your towel and shampoo out. "I'm going to the lake to bathe. I swear to God if I catch you looking at me-"

"Quit your whining. I'm not some pervert. I don't try to go looking for people when they're naked, unlike some people who enter a shared bedroom without-"

"Don't even finish that sentence! I didn't want to see you naked! I wish we had bleach cause I would have poured some into my eyes by now." You finish gathering what you need and head for the door. "Do not come outside. I am dead serious. I will drown you if I see you looking." You threaten before shutting the door.

"Don't flatter yourself! No one wants to see you naked!" He shouts as you leave the cabin.

You set your towel down in some grass to keep it from getting dirty and then look around one last time. Mostly just back to the cabin to make sure Soap wasn't looking through the windows or on the porch, but also the surrounding area. It felt very unnatural to be getting naked outside. As much as it bothered you Soap was around, you feared someone else might be too.

Stripping down quickly, you leave your clothes in a pile and rush into the water. You would like to have folded them nicely, but you just wanted to get into the water and feel little more covered up again.

The water was cold. Despite the sun being out and shining on its surface, it was still a lake. The first few minutes of bathing is very tense. You keep watching the cabin, fearing Soap is going to come out, or you’re going to see his face in one of the windows, but there is no sign of him. After a while, you start to relax. You wash your hair, the scent of your shampoo providing a little feeling of home. It's when you're scrubbing your body with your loofa that the peace is disrupted.

"Oi, States!" Soap's voice has you quickly sinking into the water and covering your chest. He's walking across the yard (if you could call it that) with his eyes trained on the ground. "Hey, there's-"

"What did I tell you?! I'm fucking naked, go away!" You shout at him as he just keeps getting closer.

"I'm not even looking at you!" He exclaims, and it's true. He's not looking at you. His eyes as on the ground, looking off to the side, or covering the side of his vision the entire time.

"I don't care! I don't want you here! Go!" You keep shouting.

"Fucking listen! There's a storm coming. You need to get out, and we need to get some wood and make sure the cabin doors are blocked. If it gets windy it's going to blow those doors open."

You glare at him, staying where you are in the water. There was a bright blue sky above you, birds were singing, and it was warm. It did not look like it was going to storm out. You thought he was just making stuff up to interrupt your bath time.

"Yeah right." You roll your eyes.

"States, I'm telling you, get your ass out of the there now. There's pitch black storm cloud coming from that way," he motions off behind the cabin, gaze turning upward while his hand is busy. "We probably only have about fifteen minutes before it hits us."

"Are you serious? Cause if you're not-"

"Of course I'm bloody fucking serious! You think I'd be out here, risking seeing your ugly naked ass, if I wasn't?!" He shouts. "Come on! Move your ass!" He starts to walk towards you, his eyes still on the ground.

"Soap I swear if you come in this- what are you doing? Hey!"

He'd grabbed your clothes and was walking back to the cabin. "Come on, States! I don't have time for this! Get out of the water!" He shouts over his shoulder at you.

You're quickly scrambling to get out of the water and get your clothes back. He was kind enough to leave your towel behind, and you grab that and wrap it around your body as you stumble after him.

"You fucking jerk! Give me my clothes!" You catch up to him and grab a handful of the back of his shirt, yanking it hard to make him stop.

He jerks back slightly and turns to you, his eyes automatically drifting down your figure. "Oh good, you're wearing a towel." He shoves the lump of clothes at you, almost making you drop said towel in the process. You'd only been using one hand to keep it wrapped around your body. "Go inside, get dressed, and come help me get wood." He instructs you, brushing past you to head towards the trees.

You stare at him in utter shock and confusion. At this point you knew he wasn't joking. For whatever reason, he thought there was a storm coming. Still, you would have gotten out if he just went away. He didn't have to steal your clothes to make you come out.

You head to the cabin, get dressed, and try to dry and comb your hair the best you could. Before you go out back to help Soap gather wood like he wanted, you peak out the front door, looking for these pitch black storm clouds he'd been so stressed about. You didn't see any, and there were too many trees in the way to see far off into the distance. Frowning to yourself, you go out to look for him.

Soap is gather tons of sticks when you find him. He even managed to find a small log or two. He was on his way back by the time you came outside.

"Great, you finally decided to come help. Start getting wood. And maybe some large rocks if you find some. We can prop them against the doors to keep them shut." He tells you in passing, pulling the cabin door open and going inside.

You check the sky one more time in case you'd missed these rain clouds. Still nothing. When the cabin door opens up again, you look back to Soap as he comes out.

"Soap, I don't see any storm clouds." You wanted to believe him, but you honestly felt like this was all some trick to just get you to help him get wood.

"They're all over there," Soap repeats in a frustrated tone, motioning once again off in the direction you'd looked earlier. "What the fuck is so hard to understand?"

"I didn't see any!" You frown, getting an annoyed look from Soap.

"Can you just fucking trust me?! If you don't want to help then just go back inside, sit on your lazy ass, and let me fucking get wood!" He yells, storming off to keep gathering sticks.

You roll your eyes, letting out a frustrated growl as you stomp after him to help him collect wood. This was ridiculous. If there was no storm, you might just kill him.

***

It was about ten minutes later that you fully believed Soap. The sky above you seemed to darken instantly, and suddenly, you could hear thunder rumbling in the distance. You managed to get tons of sticks and decent sized logs. You also found some rocks to roll in front of the doors to keep them shut in case there was wind.

Now inside, looking out the window, you watch as fat, heavy raindrops start to splatter against the wooden deck. It starts with only a few before turning into an all out downpour. It's accompanied by wind shortly after, which does make the doors shake a bit.

"How long do you think this is supposed to last?" You ask, flinching as a bright flash of lightening momentarily blinds you before a loud crash follows it. It makes the glass windows rattle a little.

"Hell if I know." Soap mutters, shouldering the front door to try and make it close better. You roll your eyes.

"Well I just figured I'd ask the guy who magically knew it was going to rain and predicted there would be wind." You grumble.

"I'm not some fortune teller who knows the future, I'm just not fucking blind!" He growls at you.

"I didn't see storm clouds!"

"We've established you're pretty fucking blind! That's not my problem! You know, you should be thanking me instead of being an ungrateful brat!" Soap’s sharp voice cuts through the darkness.

"After the way you treated me this morning?! You're out of your mind." You cross your arms. It's dark, so you can't really see each other, but you can feel Soap’s intense glare burning into you.

"Oh, look who's the victim! Poor little States... like you know anything about what that's like." He mutters that last part. You almost don't hear him.

"I'm more of a victim than you-" you begin, ready to lash out about witnessing the horror of his pale white ass from earlier, but Soap’s sudden, ice-cold tone cuts you off.

"You don't want to finish that sentence, States. You don't know anything that I've been through." His words hang in the air, heavy and dangerous.

You watch his outline on the other side of the room, which wasn't too far away. Any smart retort you had dies on your tongue. His words have a weight that make you pause, and you can’t help but wonder darkness he’s hinting at. The silence stretches on, taking on a rather unsettling edge.

"Then tell me." You finally offer, not able to see the surprised look that passes through Soap's eyes due to the darkness. He covers it up with a huff, shaking his head, though you can't really make that out too well either.

"I'm not sharing any part of my life with you, States. Just drop it."

He retreats to the bedroom then, door shutting heavily behind him. You don't make a move to follow after him. You just sigh to yourself and rub your face. The tension in the cabin was high again, though this tension was different than before. You just hoped the storm would let up soon so you can get some air.

***

Roughly forty minutes later, any hope of the storm dying off is gone. If anything, it's staring to get more violent. You're trying to make lunch, or maybe dinner at this point, when there's a loud snapping sound from outside. It's the sound of a limb snapping off.

It lands pretty close to the cabin and makes a loud sound as the branches scrape against the building's wooden sides. You let out a sharp yelp and jump back from the stove, heart hammering in your chest.

A second later, Soap is coming out of the bedroom, clearly having heard the noise too. You would have been shocked if he hadn't. It was loud.

"The fuck was that?" He asks, going for the flashlight and clicking it on. He's shining it up at the ceiling, thinking the branch had landed up there and broken through.

"I don't know. A branch must have snapped off. It sounded like it landed on the other side of the wall." You tell him. Soap was searching around, checking all the corners of the space and even trying to look out the windows to see outside.

"I hope this storm dies down soon. Last thing we need is for a tree to land on this place." He mutters, clicking the light off when he doesn’t find any damages.

"Oh don't say stuff like that. Now it's totally going to happen." You frown, grabbing a jar of jam from the shelf.

You wince as another loud crash of thunder seems to go off right above you. It was deafeningly loud and made you slam your hands against your ears. In the process, you drop the jar, and it shatters as it hits the ground.

You might have been a grown woman in the military, but thunderstorms still freaked you out just a little bit. Especially when you were in the middle of the woods, with no radio, surrounded by trees, while it was down pouring and there were winds that might put tornados to shame.

"Ah, fuck." When the rumbling has subsided, you look down at the ground and curse at the mixture of jam and sharp glass shards on the floor. "I don't want to hear you bitch about me dropping that, cause you don't even like jam." You tell Soap, expecting a quick retort back from him, but you get nothing.

"Soap?"

Apparently thunderstorms didn't just freak you out. When you looked over at Soap, he was leaning against the wall and fists clutching the fabric of his pants. His breathing sounded a little labored, and you frown.

"Soap? Are you alright?" You ask cautiously, and he nods.

"Yeah.. yeah, M'fine..." He mutters to you, but you can tell he isn't. "I just... I need to.." His voice trails off as he stumbles towards the bedroom, shutting the door behind him.

You hesitate for a moment before following, cautiously opening the door. Soap is sitting at the edge of his cot, his head in his hands, and his whole body trembling. It’s clear he’s having some kind of PTSD episode.

"Soap, what's wrong? Just tell me." You calmly say, wanting to help him, but unsure how.

"M'fine... I just need to calm down." He replies shakily, confirming your suspicion.

It was quite common for people in the military to have PTSD. The loud thunder boom from earlier must have trigger some memory for him.

"Hey, it's alright. It's just you and me out here. No one else. We're safe." You say, trying to ground him. His breathing is still erratic.

"I know we are! I just can't get my body to accept it." He snaps, frustration lacing his words.

"Just breathe, Soap. It's ok. Look at me." When he doesn’t respond, you get down on your knees in front of him. His eyes are unfocused, filled with panic. Despite how you feel about him, it’s hard to see him this way.

"Deep breath alright? Breathe in and hold it for five seconds, then slowly exhale." You instruct him, starting the breathing exercise in hopes he’ll follow.

“States, I said I’m fine! Please.” He gasps out, hands shaking as he grabs your shoulder and tries to push you away.

You stay where you are though, pulling a hand over his and continuing the breathing pattern. “You’re not fine! I’m not going anywhere, Soap. Just breath with me.”

He finally caves, his breathing too erratic for him to argue further. At first, he struggles to take deep breaths, but gradually, he begins to mirror your breathing. Slowly, his breaths become more controlled, the panic in his eyes starting to fade.

Once he's able to breath again, you get to your feet and place your hand on his back. "You alright now?" You ask softly, allowing him a moment to collect himself. He nods instead of answering you.

"Sit tight, I'll get you some water."

When you return with the water, he’s sitting up more, looking slightly more composed. He accepts the water you bring him and takes slow sips.

"You got PTSD?" You ask slowly, and he nods, staring down at his feet.

"Who doesn't in this line of work?" He responds, voice slightly tinged with bitterness.

"Yeah... I got it too." You admit. "That breathing exercise always helps me."

"You have a lot of episodes?" Soap asks, his voice monotoned and distance, as if he's still somewhere else.

"Used to. I got counseling early on, which really helped. What about you?"

"Haven't in a long time. Not since joining the forces." He answers, which confuses you a little. Did he mean before joining the task force?

You decide not to push it. He needed time to come around yet, and you want to give that to him. Giving his shoulder a soft squeeze, you head back to the kitchen.

"I'm gonna finish making lunch.. or dinner.. You want a sandwich?" You ask him, and he nods again.

"Yeah, sure... thanks."

You watch him a second longer before turning to go. He’s still staring blankly, but you know he’ll be ok now. Still, you leave the door open in case he starts freaking out again.

Soap always seemed invincible, but you guessed he was human after all. Who knew it'd be a thunderstorm that'd finally reveal his human side to you.

As you go back to making the sandwiches, Soap stares at the broken glass on the floor, the hairs at the back of his neck standing up. One of his scars seems to burn as if he’d received it just yesterday and not almost ten years ago.

He stared at the sharp shards of glass until you finally pick them up.

[caitified]

ooo how about a caitlin fic where they dated in high school and they ended on good terms but didn’t really talk anymore after they went to college. but then they meet again later while cait is with the fever and they rekindle their relationship??

begin again

caitlin clark x reader

warnings:none (we ran out of gifs guys and i don’t wanna scroll🥲)

you never thought you’d settle down in indiana. growing up, it was always just a place on the way to somewhere else, somewhere bigger. but college brought you here, and slowly, the state started feeling like home. years later, you have a life here—a routine, a rhythm. the memories of high school and of caitlin have faded a bit, softened by time and distance. you never planned for her to be part of your life here, but you can still remember the last night you two spent together, sitting on her porch, looking at the stars and talking about everything you’d be.

when she went to iowa, and you left for indiana, it was hard, but you both knew it had to happen. you’d both needed space to grow and to chase what you wanted, and you were glad to have left on good terms. you watched her career from afar, cheering her on from the comfort of your living room, letting her stay a part of your past while your life moved forward.

until now. when you hear the news that caitlin’s been drafted to the fever, it feels unreal, like a memory resurfacing at the wrong time. part of you wonders if you’ll see her, but it still catches you off guard when you run into her at a local café, both of you frozen for a moment before she smiles.

“well, if it isn’t my indiana connection,” she says, her voice warm and just a little uncertain.

you give a small laugh, trying to calm the unexpected nerves fluttering in your chest. “hey, caitlin. i heard you were joining the fever.”

“yeah, guess i finally made it to indiana,” she says, her smile widening, the familiar glint of mischief in her eyes. “who would’ve thought we’d both end up here?”

there’s a pause, comfortable but heavy, filled with things unsaid. she looks just like you remember—maybe more confident, but still the same caitlin who used to talk about making it big, eyes shining with dreams. seeing her like this, up close, feels like an echo of the past and a strange twist of fate.

“so, how’s life been?” she asks, sliding into the seat across from you, like it’s the most natural thing in the world. and maybe it is. “i mean, besides me showing up and ruining your quiet indiana life.”

you smile, leaning back and matching her easy posture. “quiet, yeah, but it’s been good. settled in, made some roots. not quite as exciting as yours, though.”

she laughs, running a hand through her hair. “it’s…different, i guess. i love it, don’t get me wrong, but sometimes i miss the simple things, you know? the days before everything got so serious.”

“i get that,” you say softly, and for a moment, there’s a shared understanding in the air, a reminder of all those late-night talks you used to have. “feels like we grew up overnight.”

“feels like yesterday and forever ago at the same time,” she murmurs, glancing down as if the table holds some of those old memories.

the conversation slips back into old rhythms, like picking up a favorite book after years and finding it as familiar as ever. you talk about college, life in indiana, what it was like for her at iowa, and how she’s adjusting to the fever. neither of you bring up high school or what you had back then, but it’s there, resting between every pause, a steady beat beneath the surface.

“you know,” she says eventually, her gaze steady and serious, “i never really expected this—seeing you here, now.”

you smile, letting the words linger. “neither did i. but it’s…nice, i guess.”

she nods, her eyes softening. “yeah, it really is. maybe we could catch up again sometime? properly, i mean.”

your heart skips, and you feel that familiar pull—the same one that drew you to her all those years ago. “i’d like that,” you reply, your voice barely above a whisper.

as she leaves, she gives you one last look, a quiet promise in her eyes, and you feel the start of something rekindling. it’s different now—older, wiser, maybe even better than it was. and as you watch her walk away, you can’t help but feel like fate brought her back to you, right where you both belong.

🪽🪽🪽🪽

over the next few weeks, meeting up with caitlin turns into a regular thing. it starts with a coffee here, a lunch there, each time stretching a little longer, neither of you wanting the conversation to end. you go to a few of her games, trying to be subtle but still catching her eye when she glances into the crowd, and every time she finds you, she grins like she’s won something more than just points.

one night, after a particularly close win, she invites you out for a late dinner. the restaurant is quiet, dimly lit, and she’s still buzzing with the energy of the game, her excitement spilling over as she tells you about the highlights. her eyes are so alive, her laugh loud and familiar, and you can’t help but feel like you’re falling all over again.

“you know,” she says eventually, her gaze softening as she looks across the table at you, “this is starting to feel like old times… but also not.”

you tilt your head, curious. “not?”

she nods, a small smile playing at her lips. “it’s…different. better, i think. i know i’m different, and you are too. but something about it still feels so right.”

your heart pounds, and you realize that you feel the same. “yeah, it does.”

there’s a beat of silence, thick with anticipation, and she reaches across the table, her fingers brushing yours. “so… do you think you’d want to make it official? i mean, for real this time?”

you laugh, more out of surprise than anything, but you can feel the warmth blooming in your chest. “are you asking me to be your girlfriend again?”

she squeezes your hand, her face breaking into that lopsided grin you remember so well. “yeah, i am. what do you say?”

and you don’t even need to think about it. “i’d love to, caitlin.”

she smiles, pulling you into a hug as you both laugh, the moment perfect and unhurried. it’s not like high school anymore—it’s better, it’s grown up, and it’s real.

[bradshawsbaby]

Change of Plans

Pairing: Bob Floyd x Wife!Reader

Summary: You and Bob are supposed to be getting ready to attend the Navy Ball, but after being gone on a mission for three months, your husband has other plans.

Word Count: 4.8k

Author’s Note: Happy International Bob Floyd Fucks Month! Thanks for hosting, @attapullman!

Warnings: 18+ ONLY. Explicit sexual content, oral sex (female receiving), allusions to sex, innuendos, and fluff because I'm physically incapable of not writing fluff.

All the make-up in the world wasn’t going to hide this hickey.

Groaning in frustration, you rose from the stool at your vanity and leaned in closer to the mirror, dabbing delicately at the sensitive, bruised skin at the base of your throat, right along your collarbone. It felt as though you had already applied half your tube of concealer, and still the purplish mark was glaring back at you, mocking you with its prominence.

It was hopeless.

Maybe you could swap out the necklace you had been planning to wear tonight with a larger one from your jewelry box? Oh, but the one you had already chosen paired so perfectly with your dress. Would anyone believe you if you said you had walked into a kitchen cabinet? Highly unlikely.

“Damn you, Robert Floyd,” you muttered under your breath, futilely smudging another round of concealer on your skin with your beauty blender.

You certainly hadn’t been complaining when your husband had given you the love bites the night before, too swept up in pleasure and your desire for him to have had the forethought to consider the impact his mouth was going to have on your attire for tonight’s big event.

Bob had returned only two days earlier from a three-month mission—the longest he’d been gone since your wedding—and he had been absolutely insatiable since coming home. Not to say that the two of you didn’t enjoy a very healthy and robust sex life, but these past two days had been something else. You’d seen a side of your sweet, mild-mannered husband that thrilled you in its passionate desperation. Just yesterday, he’d held you as a very willing captive in bed all day long, his lips and tongue tracing every curve and contour of your body, his mouth memorizing the taste of your skin.

Hence, the hickies.

At least the rest of them were scattered across your body in places no one else would find. It was just this pesky one on your neck.

Sighing softly, you took a small step backward and turned your head from side to side, surveying the work you’d done from different angles. From a distance, maybe people would think it was a birthmark? Or maybe if you wore your hair down, instead of swept back in the updo you currently had it pinned in, it would serve as a shield.

Or maybe you would just have to walk into the United States Navy Ball letting everyone know that Lieutenant Robert Floyd, the shy, meek WSO that so many people underestimated on a daily basis, enjoyed marking up his wife’s neck.

The Dagger Squad’s return had coincided with the Navy’s birthday, which meant that they had barely been home a couple days and already they were having to don their dress blues for the blowout birthday bash. Bob normally enjoyed attending the ball, but this time, he’d been looking for any excuse to get out of it.

“I just want to stay here with you,” he’d mumbled against your lips just that morning. “You’re the only one I want to be with right now.”

Maybe the hickies hadn’t been as innocuous as you thought. Maybe they had been a calculated attack on your husband’s part to convince you to pull the plug on your evening plans. The thought made you shake your head, a small smile tugging at the corners of your mouth.

Just then, you heard Bob’s voice reverberating through your small bungalow, the sound of his footsteps growing closer as he approached the bedroom.

“Sweetheart, do you know where I put my cuff—”

His voice trailed off as soon as he entered the room, which made you glance over your shoulder to discern the reason why.

He was half dressed, clad in his blue dress pants and a crisp white button down shirt, sans the missing cufflinks. But he no longer seemed concerned about that as he stood staring at you, his blue eyes blown wide behind his glasses. He was drinking in the sight of you like a parched man in the desert.

“Sweetheart,” he breathed out, his voice almost reverent.

“What?” you giggled softly, feeling your cheeks grow warm under the intensity of his gaze.

Bob just continued to stare, wordlessly appreciating you as his eyes raked you over from head to toe.

You turned back to your vanity mirror to figure out what it was that he found so mesmerizing. You’d been so fixated on hiding that hickey that you hadn’t even paid much attention to what the rest of you looked like.

Your hair and make-up were already done, the blush and lipstick you had chosen doing much to accentuate your features. You hadn’t wanted to get anything on your gown, so you were dressed only in your sheer silk stockings and the little chocolate-colored silk slip that you were going to be wearing underneath your dress. You had to admit that you did look quite good. And Bob always did love you in silk.

“Don’t get any ideas, Lieutenant,” you teased, batting your eyelashes over your shoulder as you leaned in closer to the mirror and carefully wiped at a small smudge of lipstick in the corner of your mouth.

“Oh, honey, do we have to go tonight?” Bob groaned, stepping further into the room and walking right up behind you, his eyes meeting yours in the vanity mirror as he rested his hands on your hips.

“Yes, we do,” you laughed, privately reveling in the feel of his large, warm hands pressed against you. “We told all our friends we would be there, and all your bosses are going to be there, too.”

“They know who I am,” he argued, ducking his head and pressing soft, languid kisses to your shoulder. “I think we’re well past the need for making good impressions.” His lips transferred from one shoulder to the other, leaving a trail of searing kisses in his wake.

“But it’s the Navy’s birthday,” you countered, trying not to waver in your resolve. “You love the Navy.” Your breath caught slightly at the end of that last sentence, but you were hoping he wouldn’t notice.

“I love you more,” Bob murmured, his lips now moving towards your neck. “Besides,” he whispered against your ear, lightly nipping at your earlobe, “the Navy’s had almost 250 birthdays. It won’t mind if I miss one party.”

“What about my dress?” you sighed softly, letting your head loll back against his shoulder as his hands began roaming over your stomach and thighs, his kisses against your neck and shoulders becoming more insistent.

“You can save it for next year,” he chuckled lightly, his broad chest rumbling against your back. “As beautiful as I’m sure you’d look in it, I think you look even more beautiful out of it,” he added in a low voice, his massive hands sliding up your body until they were gently cupping your breasts.

“Bob,” you moaned out softly, trying to scold him even as your eyes fluttered closed from how good his touch felt. “We shouldn’t. We’re going to be late.”

Your husband didn’t respond with words this time, just hummed faintly against your skin while he nibbled gently along your jaw, the veins in his hands standing out against his fair skin as he began kneading and massaging your breasts through the thin material of your slip. You’d always loved his hands—after his beautiful eyes and his kind smile, they were one of your favorite features on him.

“You’re not playing fair,” you giggled breathily, your toes curling and an all too familiar heat pooling between your legs as his hands continued to caress your body, one remaining on your breast while the other glided down along your side, tenderly stroking your stockinged thigh.

“I need you, sweetheart,” he whispered, burying his face in the crook of your neck and inhaling the scent of your perfume. It was his favorite. You always sent him with a bottle of it when he left on a mission or deployment so that he could spray it on his pillow and be reminded of you. When he arrived home two days ago after being gone for three whole months, the bottle was empty. “I missed you so much. Please.”

“Oh, Bobby,” you exhaled, reaching behind you and raking your fingers through his hair, mussing his neatly combed locks. “How could I ever say no to you?”

With that greenlight, Bob swiftly turned you in his arms so that you were facing him, your back to your vanity mirror as he crushed you against his chest, his arms wrapped tightly around you and his lips crashing against yours in a heated embrace.

Moaning delightedly into his mouth, you wrapped your arms around him, caressing the nape of his neck with your manicured fingers as his hands slid down your back until they were cupping your butt, pulling you even closer to him.

You felt the loss of him when he pulled back, your lips desperately chasing his even as he lifted those big hands of his to cradle your face, one thumb brushing across your bottom lip as he smiled down at you, the corners of his eyes crinkling.

“What happened to us being late?” he joked, kissing the tip of your nose and then peppering your cheeks and jaw with tiny, barely-there kisses.

“My husband can be very persuasive,” you grinned, fisting your hands in the front of his dress shirt and turning your face upward, willing his lips to return to yours.

Bob chuckled at that, tenderly brushing a loose lock of hair out of your face. “Oh, sweetheart, I’ve been dreaming of this for so long. Just getting to hold you in my arms again. I never want to let you go,” he whispered, his lips ghosting over yours, just enough to send tingles racing up and down your spine, but not enough to satisfy the ache gnawing at you, deep inside. “Sit down,” he told you quietly, indicating your long-forgotten vanity stool with a short nod of his head.

Swollen lips still desperate for more of his kisses, you pouted slightly, but did as he said, slowly lowering yourself down onto the stool and staring up at your husband, wondering what was on his mind.

But then suddenly your tall, strong, handsome husband was sinking to his knees in front of you and all questions and coherent thoughts flew out of your mind.

“Honey,” he groaned out in a husky voice, burying his face in your lap and littering the tops of your thighs with hot, hungry kisses, his arms coming up to encircle your waist. “I love you. I love you so much,” he murmured, nudging the hem of your slip up slowly with his nose.

“I love you, too, Bobby,” you told him, running your fingers through his hair, tears pricking the corners of your eyes at the naked adoration you felt in every little thing he did and said.

Head still resting in your lap, Bob’s arms slowly began to slide back down your body, his fingertips tracing a hot trail down your legs. He loved when you wore silk stockings, his hands running back and forth over the thin, sheer material with a sense of awe. Shifting back slightly, he pushed your slip up so that your stockinged thighs were more fully exposed to him. He gazed at them for a minute or two, as if just wanting to admire their beauty, and then bent his head down, planting one kiss after another on each thigh, all in a neat row. His movements were slow, unhurried, purposeful. He was taking his time worshiping your body and he wanted you to know it.

After several minutes of kissing your thighs, Bob turned his attention to your knees, pressing soft kisses to the insides of each of them. And as his lips danced across your skin, his hands slid up and down the backs of your calves, gently massaging as he went.

“Bobby,” you breathed out, your fingers continuing to run through his hair as you bit your bottom lip, your back arching as you felt your nipples harden and desire pool and pulse between your legs.

“Have I told you lately how much I love these thighs?” he asked, his eyebrows rising as his glance turned upward towards your face, his mouth still skimming the insides of your knees, slowly moving higher. “I could happily spend the rest of my life between these thighs,” he sighed, lightly biting down on the supple flesh.

“Bobby!” you giggled, feeling your skin grow warm from his praise and from how turned on it was making you.

He evidently didn’t want the hickey that you still hadn’t managed to conceal to feel lonely, because he suddenly began a passionate assault on your upper thighs, kissing and sucking and biting until you could see the small red marks appearing, even through your stockings.

Letting out a low moan of arousal, you found yourself tugging on his hair, pulling his head up and dragging his mouth towards yours. Bob happily obliged, his strong arms wrapping securely around your body as he kissed you with a newly unlocked fervor. His long, calloused fingers found purchase in your hair and you couldn’t find it in yourself to care that it would completely ruin the updo you’d spent an hour styling. Your vision had tunneled to only him. He was the only thing that mattered right now.

When the two of you finally pulled away for air, panting and desperately running your hands over each other’s bodies, you couldn’t help but giggle at the sight of your lipstick smudged all over your husband’s face.

“I don’t know if it’s your color,” you teased, wiping your hand across his mouth and chin with an amused twinkle in your eye.

Bob laughed in response, but his blue eyes grew darker with want as he gazed at you, your skin flushed and hot to the touch, your own eyes wide and dark with desire, the lipstick practically rubbed clean off your lips.

“Oh, Bob,” you whimpered quietly, leaning forward and pressing your lips to his neck. Two could play at the game he was playing. You peppered kisses up and down the column of his throat, what was left of your lipstick leaving a trail of seduction in your wake. As you moved down towards his collarbone, you realized you had even left a smudge of red on the collar of his crisp white uniform shirt.

Bob’s breathing was growing heavier, more strained, and as you pressed your body closer to his, you could feel how hard he was for you. But it wasn’t until you began sucking softly on the pulse point just beneath his jaw that a tortured groan burst forth from his lips, his grip on your body tightening as he lifted you from the vanity stool and carried you over to the bed, carefully laying you down so that your head was resting against the pillows.

His glasses were slightly askew, his chest rising and falling rapidly, the tent in the front of his uniform pants standing at attention as he gazed down at you with open and unabashed adoration.

You found yourself squeezing your legs together in anticipation as you stared back, your breath catching in your throat when he climbed on top of you, his nose nudging yours as he pressed your foreheads together, looking deeply into your eyes.

“Those were the longest three months of my life,” he rasped, his voice hoarse from both arousal and emotion.

“I know,” you whispered, reaching up to touch his cheek with gentle fingertips. It had been torture waking up to an empty bed every day these past few months. “But it’s over now. We’re together again. I’m right here.”

Bob nodded, tracing the outline of your face as if trying to convince himself that it was true. “You’re right here,” he repeated, dropping a soft, sweet kiss on your lips. He was quiet for a moment, then said, “And I need you so badly.”

Without further preamble, he began kissing his way down your body, paying particular attention to the spot you’d spent the better part of twenty minutes trying to mask earlier. It seemed you would just have to rock the hickey at this point—well, that or invest in a lot of turtlenecks.

You giggled softly as he kissed down your stomach, his light pecks tickling you even through your slip. But the laughter died in your throat the second he began pushing the chocolate-brown fabric up around your waist, his skilled fingers dipping inside the waistband of your stockings and ever so slowly dragging them down your legs.

Moaning softly, you tucked your chin and lowered your gaze to watch his every movement, noting the way he was careful with everything he did, making sure not to tear the fragile silk as he slid it off you, letting the light material flutter to the bedroom floor as he then focused his attention on the small scrap of material still hiding you from him, the brown silk that matched your slip.

He was careful, calculated in his every movement. He was taking his time with you. He was finally home, finally back where he belonged, and he wasn’t going to take a second of it for granted.

“Bobby,” you gasped softly, your back arching slightly as he began kissing his way up your leg, starting at your ankle. He repeated the same process on your other leg, tormenting you with his languorous movements. You could feel yourself growing soaked with need, burying your manicured fingers in his hair and tugging slightly to signify your impatience.

Bob chuckled lowly against your skin in response, the feel of it causing goosebumps to rise on your legs. His teeth scraped lightly along your inner thigh, and then he was soothing it with gentle kisses. His fingers began ghosting along the waistband of your silk underwear, the dark wet patch at your center only growing as you felt him so close to where you needed him.

“You’re so wet for me,” Bob breathed out, his breath warm against your core as his eyes widened behind his BCGs. You found it endearing, the way he said it. He always said it as if it was the most shocking discovery in the world. As if, even after all this time, he still couldn’t believe that he got you this aroused.

“Yes,” you nodded, reaching down to lightly touch his cheek. “You always get me like this. I need you, Bob.”

Your words lit a fire inside him and all at once he was pressing his face against your clothed core, breathing in your scent and allowing his tongue to gently tease you. You could feel him smiling against you when you let out a gasp of surprise, your hips bucking slightly at the feel of his mouth on you.

“I love you so much, sweetheart,” he whispered, pressing kisses to your hip as he firmly hooked his fingers inside the waistband of your panties and dragged them down your legs, tossing them so that they joined your abandoned stockings on the floor.

“Love you, love you,” you moaned as he pushed your legs open wider, settling himself comfortably on his stomach and getting to work.

Your husband’s tongue was a wondrous thing. The sweetest words dripped off it like honey, words that made you feel cherished and loved and known. It was a tongue that could take your breath away when he kissed you with it, those honeyed words still fresh in his mouth as he sought to communicate everything he couldn’t say with words alone. And it was a tongue that could make you fall apart and turn into a whimpering, writhing mess when he put it to use between your legs.

And right now, he was putting it to use.

“Bob! Oh, Bobby!” you cried out, drawing your knees up slightly as he licked a few firm stripes from your entrance up to that tiny bundle of nerves that he knew like the back of his hand. When you felt his hands come to rest on your hips, pressing them down into the mattress, you draped your hands over them, clinging to his fingers like an anchor.

He knew just what to do to get you going, just what to do to turn you on and make you feel like your body was singing. Half the time, you were convinced that he knew your body even better than you yourself did.

Right now, he was lazily tracing figure eights against you with his tongue, a warm-up for the intense pleasure that you knew was soon to follow. You continued to moan and whimper in pleasure, knowing that your husband loved it when he could hear how much you were enjoying yourself. Wanting to encourage him further, you removed one of your hands from his and pressed it against the back of his head, carding your fingers through his soft locks.

You were about to let out a noise of protest when he pulled back slightly, but it was quickly replaced with a sigh of gratification when he used the calloused pads of his fingers to spread you open, gathering your slick on his fingers and spreading it up and down. You could hear him sucking it into his mouth, a pleased hum rumbling from inside his chest, which only pushed you closer to the edge. This man was going to make you come and he had hardly even done anything yet.

“Taste so good, honey,” he mumbled against you, his midwestern drawl coming out thicker, which made you smile. That always happened when he was turned on.

Clearly he was starting to grow as impatient as you were because he dove back in, warm-ups forgotten, and wrapped his lips directly around your clit, sucking with all his might. When you cried out and arched up off the bed, he ran a soothing hand down your thigh, squeezing your flesh to keep you grounded. His glasses slid forward as he pressed his mouth more tightly to you, kissing and sucking and licking like his life depended on it.

You were completely incoherent at that point, reaching out to grip the bedsheets in white-knuckled fists as your husband brought you closer and closer to the brink of an orgasm. When he slipped two fingers inside you and began curling them gently, your mind went completely blank and you found yourself incapable of uttering any word other than his name.

It fell from your lips in an endless litany, your hips grinding against his mouth and your fingers digging sharply into his scalp. He didn’t mind in the slightest. In fact, your actions seemed to spur him on further, his fingers increasing their pace as his lips and tongue continued their joint attack on your most sensitive parts.

From the way he was gasping and moaning against you, you knew that he was turned on, too. That was another thing you found so incredibly endearing and so unbelievably sexy about your husband—he loved going down on you. There had been times when he had gotten off from that alone. And he was unapologetic about it.

“Just love the way you taste, sweetheart,” he often told you, a sheepish smile on his face as he pushed his glasses up his nose. “I love making you feel that good.”

Glancing downward, trying so hard to catch your breath, you realized that Bob was grinding his hips against the bed as he continued to devour you, and it nearly made you climax right then and there.

Between his ruined shirt and his soon to be ruined pants, you were going to have to get his dress blues to the dry cleaner ASAP.

“B-Bobby, baby, I’m close,” you keened, your eyes squeezing shut as the sensations of pleasure washed over you and coursed through your veins. “So close.”

Bob didn’t reply, just doubled down on his efforts, slipping a third finger inside you and circling your core with his tongue, not relenting until he felt your thighs begin to shake in that telltale way he recognized so well.

The white hot coil that had been tightening deep inside you was nearly at its breaking point, your cries of pleasure turning into breathy pants as you felt yourself teetering right on the edge, hardly able to breathe as your legs tensed up, trapping your husband between your thighs, just like he’d wanted. Both of your hands found purchase in his hair, your legs draped over his shoulders and your body bucking upward off the bed.

With a loud sob of his name, your orgasm exploded around you, stars dancing in your vision and your entire body trembling as the aftershocks coursed through you.

Bob held onto you tightly through it all, gently removing his mouth and his fingers as you became too sensitive, whimpering softly.

“I’m here, sweetheart,” he whispered soothingly, collapsing beside you and taking you into his arms. “I’m right here,” he cooed, pressing gentle, tender kisses to your cheek, his fogged-up glasses bumping against your temple.

“Oh, Bobby,” you sighed happily, curling up against his chest and letting him hold you.

The two of you laid there like that for several minutes, lost in the haze of the afterglow. You didn’t speak. You didn’t need to.

Then suddenly Bob was shifting slightly, moving to get out of bed, which had you clinging to him.

“Don’t get up,” you begged, kissing along his jawline. “Let’s just stay in bed.”

Bob chuckled quietly, adjusting his glasses. “What about the Navy Ball that you were so adamant about getting to?”

“I changed my mind,” you grinned, running your fingers over the buttons on his shirt. “Besides,” you added with a wink, “you ruined my hair.”

He laughed loudly at that, pulling you towards him and dropping a kiss on your forehead. “I’ll be right back.” he promised you, giving you a few more quick pecks before climbing out of bed.

Sighing softly, you rolled onto your back and twirled a lock of hair that had come loose around your finger. You weren’t sure where your husband was going, but you realized he must have left his phone in another room when you suddenly heard his voice coming from the direction of the living room.

“Hey, Phoenix,” you heard him saying. Even from the bedroom, you could hear the blush in his voice, could imagine him sheepishly rubbing the back of his neck. It made you smile. “Change of plans. We’re not going to be able to make it tonight.”

There was silence for a moment, and you could imagine his frontseater teasingly giving him hell for ditching when the rest of the squad was being forced to attend after just getting back home. You laughed softly.

“Yeah, tell everyone I’m sorry,” he replied, his voice getting closer. You sat up slightly when you heard Bob tell Phoenix that he thought you were coming down with something.

It was quiet again as Phoenix must have been saying something, and then Bob was back in the room, standing beside the bed and grinning down at you. “Yeah, I think she’s got a fever or something. She’s just burning up,” he said, winking at you.

Giggling softly, you picked up a pillow and whacked him in the leg with it.

“I’ll tell her. Thanks, Phoenix. Have fun tonight,” Bob told her before hanging up with a chuckle. “Phoenix says she hopes you feel better.”

“Robert Floyd!” you laughed, whacking him again. This time, however, he caught the pillow in both hands and used it to pull you closer to him.

“Sorry, sweetheart, I needed to find a quick excuse,” he grinned, kissing you softly. Pulling back, he took the pillow from you and dropped it onto the bed, crawling back in beside you. “Besides, I really do think you’re burning up,” he teased, pressing a hand to your forehead.

“Oh, yeah, I do think I’m coming down with something for sure. I feel hot all over,” you smirked, wrapping your arms around his neck.

“I guess you’ll just have to stay in bed all night,” Bob mused, his blue eyes twinkling behind his glasses. “As your husband, I think it’s only right that I stay, too, to take care of you.”

“Mmm, yes, I think that sounds like a very wise plan indeed,” you nodded sagely. “But, you know, you might as well get comfortable and take off all these clothes,” you went on, fingers fumbling with the buttons on his shirt.

“Excellent point, sweetheart,” he replied, the two of you finally dissolving into a fit of laughter as you helped him strip out of his uniform and throw it to the floor, joining the pile with your previously discarded clothing.

The two of you spent all of that evening, and most of the following morning, in bed. It was just what the doctor ordered.

And when Phoenix texted you the following afternoon to see how you were doing, you were pleased to tell her that you were feeling much better.

[bluexiao]

#his secret lover 

— just a series where you are their secret lover… but you didn’t know because you weren’t from teyvat after all! (until you have memories of him and you every time you two touch) 

CHARACTERS. self aware! Isekai! gn! Reader; Al-Haitham, Heizou, Tighnari, Scaramouche / Wanderer

THEMES. light sagau (self aware genshin au), isekai, fluff/crack, questionable but real established relationship, suggestive (light and in a few of them…), domestic (kind of inspired by several manhwas lmao), light angst on Tighnari’s?? 

NOTES. I planned for this to be a series so yep if there is anyone else you want me to cover, just hmu. 

SCARAMOUCHE / WANDERER

You have to give him all the props, he had hidden you quite well. 

Even as he was a Fatui Harbinger of a high enough ranking–for others, he was able to keep your identity a secret. Thus, the moment you opened your eyes and found yourself in the land of Teyvat without even knowing, you didn’t know about this. 

Being transported to Inazuma was one thing that did take you a whileto notice until you came face to face with the tracks to Mt. Yougou and officially got to know a Yae Miko–an individual everyone seemed to have great respect for and the fox ears and tail were ones you have never seen in a person ever–at least not one that looked so real and looked exactly like a character in a game you’ve played in! 

What Yae Miko and you talked about came in a blur because you were too much in your head, thinking about how everything suddenly made sense but didn’t at the same time. Yet you did uncover something in your identity in such a small conversation–it was that she knew you. Very well, that is. You felt that it was weird for her to suddenly come up and talk to you all of a sudden, all the more when she asked how you and your lover were–you almost let out a “Who in the world is my lover-Wait, I have one?!” but you managed to shut yourself up and said that you two were doing alright. Biggest mistake of your life. 

The moment you saw Scaramouche, you didn’t even recognize him. He wore such different clothes that you barely had the time to stare and get a grip, not until he was right in front of you–actually, he marched right in front of you. 

“Wash that stupid look on your face, you look like you’ve seen a ghost.” 

For a moment, you were dumbfounded over the fact that he looked exactly like Scaramouche but not at all–was it the clothes? Or was it the soft look on his face that he kept on for a few seconds until he wipes it off—and you didn’t even have much time to respond before he adds on. 

“And that fox is acting weirdly, did you say anything to her? Don’t tell me you slipped up and told her that you’re seeing me,” he sends you a look and your mind goes in spirals all the more. 

You’re seeing who now?! 

Seeing as you haven’t answered him yet and you were merely staring at him, this time, a different expression comes across his face, disappearing as fast as it had appeared. 

“What in the world has gotten into you?” his voice turns softer this time, “is something wrong?” 

He will actually end up pulling you aside and interrogating you for what had happened. That is! Until you remembered everything! The moment he held your hand, every single memory you have had with him came rushing in and you became dizzy that he will suddenly decide to just take you home. 

You now came to recall everything that had occurred and everything fell into place, only now, you had memories of your memories in your real life–or was it really real??—back on Earth whilst having memories of your life in Teyvat. You remember receiving secret letters from Scaramouche and hearing all about his plans, and it momentarily stopped only to receive one yesterday, stating that he would come back home finally. 

You still weren’t sure if you would tell him this is a game… but what is the use though? You haven’t gone through this timeline as well…

“Kuni… I lived two lives.” For some reason, it didn’t sit well for you to keep anything from him–it seems so wrong, so…weird. A month ago, he was just a character in a game you were playing for quite some time and now, he was here, right in front of you. 

His lips were on your cheek as he takes a breath and the air hits your skin, tickling you ever so slightly. 

“Is that so?” you couldn’t tell if he was taking you seriously or not, even more so when you felt him encircle his hands on your waist and pull you closer to his face, where you could meet his eyes that narrowed and the corners of his lips quirk up, “then have you kissed someone else in your other life? Other than me?” 

You heard the slight pause in between his questions and felt him lean closer to you. “Do they kiss you as good as I do?” 

Actually, he meant to ask if you loved someone else other than him or not, but no, he can’t let you think of someone else when you have him right beside you. And besides… if you had another life, then that means he has nothing to worry about in this life… right? 

That thought haunts him every night. 

AL-HAITHAM

Being in a relationship with The Scribe is a big thing already. And all the more so with a person like him. 

After all, it is not so much of a secret that he does bear a good appearance, albeit his personality, he was someone who was particularly popular to ladies and men alike. Maybe for different reasons but most were the same. 

For you, one look at him and you could tell that everyone was right–he really was attractive, but no one would have the guts to come near him with his presence alone. You were only getting used to being transported into this world when you came across the Akademiya and he so suddenly passed by you. You couldn’t stop yourself from admitting that eye contact with him sent shivers down your spine and made you momentarily freeze in place. Even more so when he oh-so conveniently greeted you with a small smirk. 

“Good morning, Y/n,” it was a ghost of a smile–it almost seemed like it was just a sight only for you. 

Only, it was the truth, and you found out about it when you opened the door to your “home” and saw the face of the person that almost made you have a heart attack just moments ago. 

“Oh-I mean, hi! Uhm-” you struggled to formulate anything else from your mouth that you wanted the ground to swallow you whole. You wanted to ask him why he was at your door when he chuckled right at you. When you openly stared at him, however, you could see his brow suddenly raise in confusion. 

“Y/n… as far as I like the attention and seeing your flustered face, I am not that much interested in holding a staring contest against you at the door to our home,” he clearly was caught off guard as he clears his throat and looks away, “your home… pardon me for forgetting.” 

He will definitely feel like something had happened to make you act quite weirdly, but he would not come up with a conclusion so suddenly, however, as he is beginning to gather up his observations, you eventually return back to “normal”, where you don’t freeze up whenever he shows up in front of you, or whenever he tries to lean in for a kiss, or any other physical intimacy that you seem to stutter about. 

Actually, for him, it did feel like you were back in your past self–easily getting flustered or embarrassed. For you, though, the memories that the “Teyvat You” had accumulated slowly but surely came to you each day you spent with Al-Haitham, almost too calculative that you felt like everything that had happened seemed to be much more real than the “Earth You”. 

And because of this, you begin to open up to your lover about your experience and decided to ask for his opinion. With all the time you had spent with him, you became much more comfortable with having to talk to him without stuttering and enough for you to tell the truth of your identity–but not enough to tell him that this world is merely inside a game. Fortunately, he would not be able to figure this out as this is something very unpresidential. 

“Are you saying that another soul… but it’s still you… entered this body, and now you have memories of you here, as well as you back in your world,” he did not seem to end it in a question, more like a demand for you to tell him more or for you to explain it to him clearly without having a hard time to do so yourself–he could not really blame you… it is not such a “normal” occurrence that even he wouldn’t be able to explain himself if it had happened to him, not that he would be as inaccurate as you are. 

He does try to help you uncover the truth and adjust well! After all, he is quite thirsty for knowledge (as much as you were to hi-) and there would be no things left unturned, especially considering that it was about you. 

He does find it odd whenever you do a couple of things that you did not use to do—such as say a couple of words that are not in Teyvat’s vocabulary, from what he knows of—but he eventually grows accustomed to them, just as quick as you become accustomed to this “new life”—or it wasn’t really. 

He does ask you a couple of questions (a LOT) about how your life was in the other world. You tell him of all the technologies and inventions you came to know and well you should not be that much surprised if he ends up covering them for his research or whatever. So do make sure to keep some of that knowledge to yourself! 

TIGHNARI

The moment you wake, you found yourself lying in the middle of the forest, all alone, yet surrounded by mushrooms that you knew for sure you had never seen before. 

They had brighter shades, compared to the ones you normally eat, which means-

“Are they poisonous? Or worse…” you mutter to yourself, horrified as you look at each of the mushrooms. Then everything turns black. 

When you wake again, you were greeted by a different view–a hut, precisely… or it seems like it. You had a familiar feeling set in once you looked around you, however, but as soon as you heard the slightest bit of movement, you instinctively closed your eyes, pretending to be asleep. 

“No point trying to act like you’re still unconscious, Y/n, you may open your eyes.” 

The voice—it felt too familiar that even if you wanted to pretend a little bit more, you couldn’t help but be curious–why was it even familiar when-

Your jaw fell and your mouth hang open as soon as you came face to face with him–a man with long ears (fox ears? What are they-A fennec? Why does he look like… someone…) and his sense of fashion being… quite an eh- 

“Huh? What is it? Is there something on my face?” 

Now that you had heard his voice again, you came to realize that he does sound like the same person he looks very much alike to–Tighnari from that game you’ve played. 

What in the- 

“I must be dreaming right now, aren’t I?”

He sends a look at you and with crossed arms, says, “If you were, I can say I’m quite flattered to have you dream about me, but you are not dreaming so my gratitude is rather useless.” 

And as he casually tries to check your temperature and your vitals, his touch makes you jump with a sudden “memory” that you two apparently had… of the times he took care of you after you appear to have been either injured or came across some weird mushrooms–which also seems to be the case this time around. 

“What is it? Did it hurt when I touched you?” He does notice this and does not hesitate to ask you, but with all that was happening, you failed to notice the concerned look in his eyes but it did not stop the pressure that was building in your chest—so you lied. “No… I’m fine, just a bit jumpy… ‘s all.” 

He may raise a brow at this but he brushes it off, and in the end, you might not be able to say the truth to him because… well, you didn’t have a chance! Every time you try to do so, it’s either he holds your hand or you hold his and a memory pops up and everything in your plan gets messed up! 

He’s sort of a physical lover. You wouldn’t be able to believe it either, especially since you didn’t really know much about him until you came here and realized that it actually makes a lot of sense for him to be so. 

He initiates a lot of it too! So much so that whenever you feel his tail wrap around your arm or your waist or him trying to request of you to pet his ears… you feel a little guilty somehow. 

In the end, you were keeping something from him… and you still haven’t told it yet. 

HEIZOU

You had just woken up and minutes later, you were stuck in a rather… awkward conversation. 

“Are you saying… I’m in Teyvat?! And you’re Heizou?!” 

The boy in front of you has a furrowed brow as he crosses his arms over your chest, “Hm? Where else should you be except for here? Right beside me?” he grins at the momentary victory of having to come up with a way to try and fluster you, but apparently, this time, it wasn’t working. 

He, above most of the others, would figure it out immediately–well, not the entire story, no. He will be able to deduce that you must hae forgotten a piece or two (or maybe even all) of your memory and in turn, makes you very confused as to where you were and who is he–I mean, how could you even forget who he is? He courted you for so long and now he will have to go through that all over again? 

You don’t remember everything as fast as his interrogation skills, however, and he will begin to question you before you even get to have your “memories” back, and when you do, you were already finished telling him of your life back in Earth and it seems you might have slipped that Teyvat is inside a game called Genshin Impact, which is how Heizou came into the conclusion of the truth. 

You really wouldn’t be able to hide anything from this man because he knows his way around interrogation that even if you try to lie, it will only be for your demise. Well, it does seem like he wasn’t taking you seriously, but hey, at least he wasn’t being awkward about it now… or maybe he’s just REALLY not taking you seriously. 

Anyway, it was a kiss that eventually makes you remember—not everything, but at least something. 

“This is not gonna do… you act, speak, and look exactly like Y/n, and yet-“

“But my name is really Y/n! And… I think I remember something.” 

“So you were able to recall something after our lips touched,” he brings a hand on his chin, contemplating, as you feel your face heat up. 

“If you put it that way…” 

“Then should we do it more? Kissing, I mean.” 

“Sure, I-wait… what?”

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[mountttmase]

Home Is Where The Heart Is

Note - so I think this is the longest fic I’ve ever written. I really love the concept and the biggest thank you to @masonmtxo for the request and all the discussions we had like it’s been so fun to write and thank you for trusting me with this idea 🥺. Hope you all enjoy and feedback would be very much appreciated 🤍

Pairing - Mason Mount × Reader

Word count - 11k

Warnings - fluff and angst

‘Come on Thea, daddy’s gonna be here in a minute and you need to be awake so he can say goodnight’ you told your daughter, bouncing her up and down on your knee slightly so she’d keep her eyes open as she let out a big yawn. ‘I know baby, it’s been a long day but you can’t fall asleep and upset daddy on his birthday can you?’

The gentle tap on your door settled your nerves instantly, and after a quiet come in, Masons head popped round the door with a soft smile on his face.

‘Hey, sorry I took so long. My mum wouldn’t stop talking and then Lew wouldn’t get out of the shower’ he complained as he came into his childhood bedroom. Shutting the door and slowly making his way over to you and the two year old little one you’d made together. You loved the way his eyes lit up every time he saw her and as soon as she noticed him, Thea’s arms were up so Mason could pick her up. ‘Hey baby, I like your pj’s’ he laughed, kissing her cheek as he poked the tiny strawberries that adorned her tummy and she snuggled into his neck as he looked round to you. ‘I like yours too’ he winked and you felt your face flush instantly.

This wasn’t a state Mason ever saw you in, bare faced, hair up and ready to sleep. No Mason only ever saw you when you looked presentable for pick ups and drop offs or family events.

‘Thanks’ you laughed, crossing your arms over yourself in an attempt to hide the baggy shirt and bottoms he’d lent you but it was only then you caught sight of his ridiculous ensemble and you smiled at the way his cheeks flushed because you’d noticed. ‘Did you have a nice afternoon?’

‘Of course, I’m so glad you both came’ he smiled, dropping a quick kiss on Thea’s head. You still remembered the look on his face when he’d spotted the two of you amongst the rest of his family as you all yelled surprise and the joy you felt when he came over to you first. Taking Thea into his arms before pulling you in next so the three of you could have a moment. ‘I honestly didn’t expect it at all, when everyone yelled surprise I was too in shock but I remember wishing you were there. I thought you two were visiting your parents but then I saw this one’s little smile’ he teased, tickling her sides gently until you heard the familiar sound of laughter falling from her lips. ‘Have you had a nice afternoon?’

‘Yeah, it’s nice seeing everyone again’

‘Thank you for staying, I just thought it made more sense so we could all go back together tomorrow and I get to spend some more time with this one’

‘Of course’

‘She’s grown so much, huh? Every time I see her it’s like looking at a different person and I only saw her last week’ he murmured, pulling her down from his neck as he’d felt her go heavy and knew she was falling asleep. You watched on with a gentle smile as he cradled her in his arms before placing a light kiss on her forehead. ‘Sometimes I look at her and I can’t believe she’s real’

‘I know, she’s like a proper mini human now’

‘She really is’ he chuckled, the heart melting smile he was directing towards her now landing on you and you gulped under the intensity of it. ‘I still remember the day we found out like it was yesterday though’

~

You remembered too, you were so sick with nerves about the whole thing that you made yourself ill. Thinking you’d rather have morning sickness everyday for the rest of your life than feel this way again but it was never a situation the pair of you intended to be in.

You remember the moment you found out yourself you were pregnant like it was yesterday too. You’d been having some strange pains in your side for a few weeks and you believed it must have been appendicitis so you took yourself off to the doctor as a precaution so they could run some tests. The nurse seemed kind as she talked you through everything before asking a few standard questions to try and rule out what it could be.

‘I just want to ask, is there any way you think you could be pregnant?’

‘No, I don’t think so’ you told her, the sudden realisation that your last period never came but it was usual for you to skip one when you were stressed and there had been a lot going on lately so you figured there was no reason to say anything.

‘Okay well I’ll get some tests going and we’ll see where we’re at’ she smiled and you relaxed instantly. That was until she came back around half an hour later and your world felt like it was crumbling around you.

‘We’ll do some more thorough testing and take you for a scan just to check but from what I can see, I know you didn’t think you were but it looks as though you’re pregnant’ she told you softly. Squeezing your hand as she saw your face drop.

‘I can’t be’ you breathed, your heart in your mouth as you repeated her words in your head but nothing seemed to make sense. ‘Are you sure?’

‘Pretty sure, yeah. I’m getting a pretty strong positive from you sample’

It was like your world had stopped spinning. Pregnant? Surely not. You hadn’t had sex in weeks. Not since…

Mason.

You’d never intended to sleep with him, in all honesty you barely knew him. He was a friend of Kai and Sophia’s that you’d met a handful of times at games or parties but you’d never spoken to him for more than ten minutes.

That was until it was a girl from work's birthday and you were out for drinks in some posh bar and a drink was placed in front of you at your table.

‘Compliments of Mason’ the waitress smiled but you looked at her confused. You had no idea what she was talking about, thinking she must have got you confused with someone else but after following her eyeline you saw him, sending you a small wave to which you returned causing all the girls on your table to look at you with wide and shocked eyes.

‘I’m sorry but who the hell is that?’ The girl next to you laughed but you didn’t want to tell her exactly. She was known for sticking her nose in and you didn’t want her knowing your business.

‘Mason? Oh he’s a friend of some friends. I don’t know him super well or anything’

‘Then why is he sending you drinks?’

‘How should I know’ you laughed, hoping you could change the subject and luckily enough for you the birthday cake was being bought over so nothing more could be said.

You wanted to go over and thank Mason but the next time you looked, he wasn’t there and you’d wondered if he’d snuck out so you were more than surprised when he came up next to you at the bar. You’d only popped over there for a glass of water, jumping at the feel of a hand on your shoulder but his warm brown eyes settled you instantly.

‘Mason! I was looking for you but you disappeared’ you told him as he pulled you into a quick hug

‘Well I’m back’ he laughed, propping himself up next to you. ‘You good?’

‘Yeah, great. Thanks for the drink’

‘You’re welcome, you looked like you needed it’ he laughed and you rolled your eyes playfully.

‘Whatever could you mean’ you teased, causing him to laugh before your water was placed in front of you.

‘Wow, someone’s living in the wild side tonight’

‘I can be wild when I want to be’ you teased and you’d be lying if you said you didn’t miss the little sparkle in his eye at your comment.

‘Oh yeah? I think I might like to see that’

‘Y/n? I’m booking a taxi. Are you coming?’ You suddenly heard from beside you and you couldn’t lie you felt a little deflated.

‘Where are you guys off to now?’ Mason asked, thinking you were off on a wild night out but it couldn't be further from the truth.

‘Home’ you told him with a huff. ‘The finance department doesn’t do late nights apparently’

‘Well if you’re not ready to go you can always hang out here with me’ he offered with a small smile and the offer sounded appealing straight away.

‘Really?’

‘Yeah it’s just me and a few others, you’ve probably met a few of them before’ he explained and you could see Ben and a few others now from where you stood. ‘Maybe you can show me that wild side you told me about’ he winked, excitement filling your belly at what he might mean and even though you didn’t know him that well, you weren’t ready to go yet. ‘I promise I’ll get you home safe. Soph would have my nuts if I didn’t’

‘Yeah okay I’ll stay’ you told him, heart racing at the way his eyes lit up. ‘Let me grab my stuff’

You spent the rest of the night talking to Mason and you were surprised about how much you had in common. You never usually had the time to speak like this but he was charming and was really listening to you so when it was time to leave the disappointment must have been clear on your face.

‘You can come back to mine if you want? I’ve got a bottle of white in the fridge with your name on it’ he laughed and whilst the word yes was on the tip of your tongue he could see you needed a little more convincing. ‘You don’t have to, you just don’t look like you’re ready to go home. Thought you could do with a little more therapy after your girls evening’

‘You know what, you’re right’ you smiled, looking up at Mason's kind face. You knew you’d be safe with him so you let him lead you outside where the rest of the boys were waiting. Each with a girl they’d managed to pull tonight and you’d wondered if you’d maybe interrupted his night a little too much.

You didn’t have time to say anything though, Mason wanting to set off so you said your goodbyes and made it back to his so you could open the wine that he’d promised you. Relaxing next to him on his sofa as you carried on your conversations in the bar until you couldn’t hold back from asking him what you wanted to.

‘Hey, Mason? I hope I didn’t interrupt anything tonight’

‘What do you mean?’

‘Well when we left, the others had… company’

‘Okay…?’ He laughed, clearly not really understanding what you were trying to say so you swallowed the lump in your throat knowing you’d have to spell it out for him.

‘I meant like if you had the intention of taking someone home tonight, i probably wasn’t on your list so I hope I didn’t ruin any plans you had’

‘Firstly, you didn’t ruin any plans. I’m not exactly a fan of picking up random girls in public. And secondly, why don’t you think you’d be on my list?’ He asked cheekily, finally letting his hand brush over your knee and you smiled at touch.

‘I mean I… I don’t know… um’ you stuttered. Both of your were plied with alcohol and you were feeling a lot looser than usual, but he still had the power to make you stutter.

‘Am I gonna have to spell this out for you?’ He laughed, hand travelling up your leg to your thigh so he could give it a gentle squeeze and when you gave him a nod your heart fluttered at his cheeky smile.

‘I think you’re gorgeous, y/n’ he told you sincerely. ‘Always have done and I’ve enjoyed sitting chatting with you all night way more than I would have with just some random person. Yeah maybe my intentions were to find someone for a bit of… company. But I’d pick you and this ten time out of ten over that’

‘So you were looking for a shag’ you laughed. Trying to avoid the rest of his speech as it was churning your insides but you could see where this conversation might be going.

‘Why, you offering?’ He laughed, clearly trying to joke with you but you wanted to test the waters.

‘Why are you?’ You retorted, watching his eyebrows raise and he bit his pretty pink lips.

‘I asked you first’ he whispered, gripping your thigh and pulling it over his lap so you had to straddle him and you placed your hands on his broad chest to steady yourself. Excitement bubbling up inside of you at his behaviour and even though the thought had never crossed your mind before, you really wanted to kiss him. ‘But in the interests of being honest then yeah, I am’

‘Me too’ you told him, mouth speaking before your brain could catch up as the copious amount of wine was taking its toll but you knew you couldn’t pass this up.

He didn’t give you a second to say or think anything else, kissing you deeply and knocking the wind out of you. Never in a million years did you expect you’d ever kiss Mason but here you were, hoping for a lot more than that.

You didn’t speak much afterwards, just his name falling from your lips in between prayers to a higher being you didn’t even believe in as you spent the next hour or so in his bedroom. Wondering how on Earth you’d even got here but you weren’t regretting it for a second.

He was a gentleman though and took care of you in every way possible. Never making you feel like you’d outstayed your welcome as he tucked you into his side so you could go to sleep and the next morning he popped you in an Uber with a kiss to your cheek.

You both knew what had happened. A silent agreement that it would be your little secret that you’d both move on from so the possibility of any consequences from your actions didn’t cross your mind.

‘I think something must be wrong’ you told the nurse who was looking at you sympathetically but you were hoping this was all some sort of weird joke.

‘Why don't we get you down for that scan? Then we can have a proper look and see’ she smiled but the thought of it being confirmed made you panic and you stood out of your chair quickly causing her to jump.

‘Oh no thank you, I think I’m just gonna head home. Sorry for wasting your time’ you told her, picking your bag up and rushing out the door before she had a chance to do anything.

Pregnant?

There was no way.

You carried on life as normally as you could for the next week or so until your next period never came and you realised you had to settle your own mind so you could go back to normal. You didn’t live too far from the big Sainsbury’s so you walked over there, hoping the fresh air would do you good and as soon as you walked in you were straight over to the pregnancy tests so you could pop them in your basket.

You weren’t sure how you ended up there, but you found yourself by the baby clothes, eyes scanning all the different vests and sleep suits until you got to the socks and you couldnt help but pick a pair up. There was something about tiny baby socks that always made you feel soft and you were so caught up in your own little world you jumped six foot in the air at the feeling of someone’s hand on your shoulder. Whipping round to be met with the very last person you wanted to see.

‘Y/n? You alright’ Mason laughed, pulling you into his side for a quick hug.

‘F-fine. What are you doing here?’

‘Jaz is coming over tomorrow and asked if I could grab a few bits for Summer. Socks was one of them actually so thank you’ he smiled, eyes leaving you briefly as he searched for the right size. ‘What are you doing over here? Someone you know got one on the way?’ He smiled before nodding to the socks in your hand. ‘If so, I’ve got some tips. Don’t get the socks with the frilly bits on the ankle, they basically disintegrate in the wash and if you’re looking for some good baby grows there a place online I found that are cheaper and better quality’ he told you, not noticing how stuff you’d become until his eyes were back on your and his face became concerned. ‘Y/n? You good?’

You couldn’t get anything to come out of your mouth and you could feel your eyes beginning to fill with tears but you were stuck. Wishing you could make a run for it but his eyes were holding you in place until the flew down into your basket and made contact with the only thing you didn’t want him to see.

‘Who are those for?’ He uttered, soft eyes back on you but you still couldn’t force any words out. Your bottom lip wobbled as he was finally catching on and the first few tears spilt from your eyes.

‘I’m scared, Mase. I don’t-‘ you began to sob, but he was quick to pull you into his chest and rub your back in hope of soothing you but his affection made it all worse.

‘it's alright, y/n. You’re safe yeah? I promise you everything’s fine’. He reassured you but you knew from his voice he was trying to process what was happening. ‘Look at me’

You pulled back, bleary eyes on his but the kind Mason you’d always known was looking back at you even if he was a little confused and overwhelmed.

‘Get what you need to and we’ll head back to mine okay?’

‘But-‘

‘No buts. Just meet me at the entrance’

‘Okay’ you nodded, wiping your face quickly and picking up your basket. ‘I just need this so I’ll meet you there’

Without a word, he took your basket from your hands and placed the tests in his before grabbing your hand and walking you through the shop to the self service tills. All you could do was stand in silence as he packed and paid before leading you to his car and leaving you to get settled in the passenger seat.

He was silent the whole way but you knew what he was thinking and once you were in his living room you knew you had to be honest.

‘Can I just ask, if you are… you know. Is it… um. Would it be…’

‘Your the only person I’ve slept with Mason’ you confirmed but you kept your head down as you didn’t want to see his reaction. ‘I haven’t been with anyone for months before and no one since’ you confirmed, your voice thick as you tried to talk and you almost lost it when he reached for your hand and placed your interlocked fingers in his lap. His touch giving you the courage to carry on speaking. ‘I went to the doctor about a week ago. I had a pain in my side and thought it was something serious so they tested me. They told me I was then but I didn’t want to believe it, like I thought they were wrong? But the more I think about it the more I need to see for myself’

‘Shit’ he breathed, squeezing your hand lightly before getting up. ‘Come on we can go to my room so you can use the bathroom he offered, thinking it was weird how he wanted to do this in the same place the potential baby could of been made, but you followed after him and took the test before he could say anything else and sat next to him on the bed.

‘How long do we have to wait?’ He asked, his voice barely above a whisper but you still heard him as the house was so quiet.

‘Two minutes’ you whispered back and when he took your hand in his you gave it a gentle squeeze.

The two minutes were up, mostly spent in silence, but you could feel him becoming restless so you grabbed the test and handed it to him.

‘Will you turn it over please? I can’t…’ you trailed off, looking down at the test as Mason held it with ever so shaky hands.

Pregnant

‘I’m sorry mase, I’m so sorry’ you began to sob, head falling onto his shoulder as you didn’t know what to do but he held you close to try and comfort you.

‘Hey, what have you got to be sorry for?’ He asked, but you were too overwhelmed to respond. ‘Listen to me, yeah? You’ve got nothing to be sorry for. We did this together okay? So we’ll figure it out together too. You’re not on your own in this and whatever you decide to do I’ll back you’

‘I don’t even know what to think, I haven’t slept properly in weeks and-‘

He didn’t give you a chance to carry on, pulling you up and untucking his sheets before helping you get inside and crawling in next to you.

‘Let’s try and get some shut eye yeah? We can talk when you’ve had a sleep’

You didn’t have the strength to argue so you let him hold you to his chest. Sleep not coming easily as your small sobs were keeping you awake but the feel of his fingers massaging the back of your head sent you off shortly after.

~

‘I think this one’s out for the count’ Mason smiled, standing up so he could carry Thea over to the travel cot set up just at the end of the bed and you shuffled down to meet him just as he stood back up. The pair of you looking down at your sleeping girl, full of so much love and to you it almost felt like a proper family moment which was only amplified when Mason put his arm around your shoulder to bring you into his body.

‘I really can’t thank you enough, you know. I love our little one so much. Like more than I ever thought i could’ he told you quietly, voice emotional and you knew he was feeling overwhelmed from the whole day.

‘Takes two to tango, Mase’ you laughed, feeling him squeeze your shoulder gently.

‘Well you’re welcome’ he winked, eyes back on Thea like he didn’t want to miss a second.

‘Sometimes I still can’t believe I slept with you in the first place’ you laughed, looking over to his shocked and offended face and his expression only made you laugh even more. ‘Not in a bad way but we barely knew each other, Mase. I’ve never done that before, you know?’

‘I know I’m just kidding’ he smiled, his arm moving lower so he could tickle your waist a little bit. ‘I know she looks like me but she falls asleep anywhere and in two seconds flat just like her mumma, huh?’ He laughed, kissing your forehead softly and you couldn't help but nestle into him more.

"We're special ladies, what can I say?" you joked, wrapping your arms around him so you could hold him a little tighter and you felt the shiver as he spoke next.

‘You’re right. My special girls’ he told you quietly, your knees feeling weak as he spoke.

‘I feel like she takes after your dad more with the sleeping thing. I caught the pair of them having a nap earlier’ you told him, trying to deflect his words and show that they weren’t affecting you as much as they were but Mason's little laugh made your heart thump.

‘That’s true actually. Considering how he was in the beginning I love seeing them together’

‘Thick as thieves they are’

‘Yeah, he loves her so much. And you’

‘I don’t know about that’ you scoffed but he was quick to reassure you.

‘Of course he does’ he laughed. ‘He told me himself the other day how amazing he thinks you are and how proud he is of you. I know things were rough at first but were all on the same team now’

~

To say things had been tough at the beginning with Tony was an understatement. He didn’t know who you were, a stranger to him so when the pair of you decided you tell his family, you both decided on letting Mason tell his parents first without you there as he knew it would be a tough conversation. You’d kept it from them for a few months as you were still working out what you should do but you knew deep down you wanted to keep your baby and you were pretty sure Mason did too. Telling you he’d be there for whatever you needed and he couldn’t hide the smile that took over his face when you told him you wanted to raise the baby.

You’d been on edge for hours, Mason not letting you know at all how things had gone that day so when he finally texted you your heart was in your mouth.

You travelled to Masons the next day, making sure to wear something baggy as you knew you were starting to show and you wanted things to be as normal as possible but you knew as soon as you saw Masons dad’s face this was about to be anything but a normal conversation.

‘I don’t even know where to start. How did this even happen?’

‘Well-‘ Mason started but you could tell from the tone of his voice he was about to say something silly.

‘Mason’ you scolded, knowing he was trying to lighten the mood but this really wasn’t the time.

‘Look, dad. You don’t have to be so negative’

‘Can you blame me? I can't even believe we’re having to have this conversation. Are you not questioning anything? You only found out cause you bumped into her in Sainsbury’s’ he snapped at Mason before looking at you. ‘I mean were you ever going to tell him?’

‘Of course I was, I was just checking’ you defended before Tony dropped his head into his hands briefly.

‘Look, I’m just gonna come out with it’ he huffed and you swallowed down a big nervous gulp. ‘I’m not happy about this at all. This is the last thing he needs’

‘Dad-‘

‘No, Mase. I’m sorry but it’s the truth. This could be detrimental to your career and you know it. I mean how could you be so stupid?’ He asked him before his hard eyes were on you again. ‘Is this really what you want?’

You didn’t have the strength to speak but you knew deep down that this was what you wanted so you just nodded.

‘Well i just don’t think you two have assessed your options properly’

‘What are you talking about’

‘You don’t have to be involved if you don’t want to be. Either of you. I can make this go away-‘

‘Kitchen. Now’ Mason growled, standing up and storming off but you kept your head down as Tony passed by you. You knew he wanted to talk to him privately but Masons voice travelled as he was so angry so you couldn’t help but overhear.

‘That’s my baby. Not a this or an it okay? My baby. I brought you here to help, not for you to accuse and be rude. You either do that or if you continue to be horrible you can go’

‘You can’t talk to me like that’

‘I can talk to you like this when it concerns my family. Cause that’s what they are now. Part of my family. Part of our family and I won’t have you making y/n feel bad. She’s my friend and I want to be there for her.’

Friend

Why was that word sitting so uncomfortably in your chest?

You were friends, so why did hearing him say it sting so much?

Friends. That’s it.

Maybe in the back of your mind you wondered if you could be more one day but those thoughts were quickly pushed down so you could no longer feel them.

You two were friends.

After their little spat they managed to calm down, walking back into the living room to sit with you and you could already see Tony’s demenier had changed and he sent you a soft smile.

‘I’m sorry if I came across as rude, I’m just trying to look out for Mason’

‘I know. Whether you believe it or not I’m trying to do that too’

‘Okay, well then if we’re being serious, I have one suggestion’ he told you before his eyes flashed back and forth between the pair of you. ‘We can’t let this get out okay? Whatever you need, we’ll support you but we need to keep this under wraps’

‘What?’ You breathed, looking to Mason for some sort of support but the look in his face told you he wouldn’t be on your side for this one.

‘I kind of agree, y/n. You’ve seen how people are with me and I’d never forgive myself if something happened to you. To either of you, okay?’ He told you, turning to face you as he took your hands in his. ‘I know it’s a lot, but I promise it’s for the best and you’ll be so much happier out of the limelight’

‘Wait, what?’ You asked, pulling your hands away from his as you were shocked at his words. ‘You don’t want anyone to know about them?’

‘Of course I do, just not the whole world. Not until the time is right at least just… just please think about this yeah? I wouldn’t suggest it unless I thought it was for the best’

‘Are you embarrassed of us?’ You asked quietly, feeling awful as soon as the words came out of your mouth as you watched his face twist into one of shock and hurt.

‘Of course not, I don’t want you to ever think that’ he reassured you. Cupping your jaw so you could look at each other properly. ‘I’m trying to protect you, okay? All I want for you and our baby to have a normal life. I want you to be able to go outside and not be followed or papped. And it’s not just for you yeah. Call me selfish but the thought of having my own little safe place that only we can visit means more to me than I can tell you. I could never be embarrassed of you, you two are the best things that have ever happened to me’ he told you sincerely, wiping under your eyes as you let a few tears fall from your eyes. ‘At least think about it?’

And think about it you did.

Mason was right, you wanted a normal life and the ability to exist without Mason's fame hanging over you. Since Mason’s friend comment you also realised you you’d have to try and find a way to make you’re feelings but as your baby grew, so did your love for him.

He didn’t make it easy for you. Long nights spent at each other's place, trying hard to get to know each other even more and plan for the future. There were so many questions and far too many answers to choose from and Mason's lack of concentration never helped. Always asking the baby in your tummy what they thought as he laid his head near your side. Your heart melting as he softly spoke to your unborn child like they were in the room while rubbing small circles on your tummy to sooth the pair of you. You still remember the first time he kissed your bump, hoping to say goodbye to the little one within but the way your heart pounded at the small gesture only made the baby move even more.

You pushed those feelings down though. Yes Mason was the father of your child but he quite clearly wanted it to be just that and you were fine with it.

Until you weren’t.

He was there for you for everything. All the appointments, the baby classes and when it eventually came to the time for you to give birth he was by your side until the end. Crying his eyes out as soon as they fell on your daughter and you felt like you’d hit the jackpot. He was perfect and made sure the pair of you never went without.

In the beginning you’d moved in with him but he eventually got you your own place nearby and you saw each other all the time. He was the best co parent you could have asked for and even though you could feel your feelings changing, his friend comment stuck in the back of your mind.

You still remember the day you fully realised you were hopelessly in love with Mason, and the memory didn’t sting any less now. It was a Tuesday and Mason had the day off so he’d offered to have Thea for the day to give you a break and you’d jumped at the chance.

You were running early and had tried to call mason ahead of time but he wasn’t picking his phone up so you figured you’d use the key he’d given you in case of emergencies.

You walked into a quiet and dark house and figured he must be in bed still so you carefully watched Thea climb the stairs to go and wake him before popping into the kitchen to grab yourself a bottle of water.

You were not prepared for the sight in front of you though, your heart sinking into your stomach as you caught sight of Mason pressed up against the counter, a girl you’d never seen before dressed only in his t-shirt flush against him as he kissed her lazily.

The only thing that broke them apart was the sound of the gasp that left your lips, quickly turning around so Mason couldn’t see your eyes full with tears as you walked into the other room and tried to push the memory out of your head.

It was only a few moments later you felt Mason rush in after you but you kept yourself facing the other way, not wanting him to see you crying and have him asking loads of questions so you spoke first in hopes he’d ignore the state you’d got yourself in.

‘Y/n-‘

‘Sorry, Mase. I didn’t mean to barge in like that. We were running a little early and I thought you were asleep since you didn’t answer the phone. Thea’s upstairs probably trying to find you to wake you up. I’ll go get her’ you told him, darting for the exit but his hand on your wrist stopped you in your tracks, pulling you back to his body and it was only then you realised he was shirtless. The image in front of you made all the blood in your body rush to your cheeks and you kept your eyes down even though he’d dipped his head in order to try and catch them so you’d look at him.

‘I’m sorry, y/n. You didn’t need to see that’

‘It’s fine, Mase. None of my business’

‘Y/n-‘

‘Look I need to get going, let me say bye to Thea and I’ll bring her down’

‘Can you just take her into her room for now? I’ll get rid of Amy and then grab her’ he mumbled, not wanting to be caught with a child in his house.

‘Sure’ you breathed, pulling yourself out of his grip before darting upstairs to find Thea who was laying on the floor of Mason's room trying to find him under the bed.

‘Hey baby, daddy told me he wants to play hide and seek so shall we go find you somewhere to hide so he can come and find you?’ You asked quietly, picking her up and she let out a small excited squeal as you snuck her over to her room.

‘Here’ she whispered, pointing towards her wardrobe and you carefully put her down so she could open the door and sit in the bottom, your heart melting as she covered her mouth with her hands to stop her excited giggles and even though you knew it had to be this way it was hard knowing you had to hide her like she was a dirty secret.

‘I’ve got to go now okay? You be good for daddy and I’ll come and get you in the morning’ you told her, kissing her quickly before standing up. ‘Love you, baby’

‘Love you, mummy’ she repeated back, blowing kisses back and forth before you shut the door carefully on her and made your way out into the hall.

‘Hi, I’m Amy’ you suddenly heard from beside you and you turned to find the girl from the kitchen coming out of Mason's room now thankfully fully dressed.

‘Y/n’ you smiled, trying to keep the pleasantries to a minimum but she for some reason wanted to keep on talking.

‘Mason said you were the housekeeper?’

‘Oh um-‘ you breathed, your heart sinking even lower as everything that seemed to come out of his mouth today hurt you.

‘Don’t worry, hopefully with me around a bit more we can keep the place a bit tidier’ she smiled and you had to bite your lip in order to not scream. You knew she meant well and wasn’t being mean but your heart was shattered and all you wanted to do was break down.

‘Hopefully. I um… I forgot something I just have to run home and grab it’

‘Okay well I’ll probably be gone by the time you’re back but it was lovely meeting you’ she smiled and all you could muster was a nod back before you flew down the stairs and straight passed Mason who was looking at you with wide eyes.

‘Wait, can we at least talk?’ Mason called, trying to reach for you again but you stopped in your tracks and span to face him causing him to stop suddenly also.

‘I can’t. But don’t worry, I’ll be back with my mop tomorrow’ you told him coldly, watching his face fall but you couldn’t look anymore. ‘I told Thea you’re playing hide and seek and she’s hiding in her wardrobe. Don’t leave her in there for too long’ you uttered, finally storming out the house and into your car where you finally let the first few tears fall.

What was supposed to be 24 hours of self care had turned into a pity party as you sat on your sofa with a face mask on and tried not to get too upset. There was no reason for you to cry over seeing Mason with someone else, you’d always told each other you would support each other through any new relationships but telling him that and actually doing it were two different things.

You tried pushing the thoughts down but you couldn’t deny it any longer. You loved Mason and the thought of him being with someone else was tearing you to pieces. He was so loving and the best dad to Thea you could ever ask for and the fact he saw you as just a friend hurt you more than you could ever explain.

You arrived at Masons around nine the next morning. Letting yourself in again but it was Thea’s tiny footsteps bounding towards you that greeted you today. You were more than happy to see her so you bundled her up into your arms before carrying her into the kitchen where Mason was cooking for all of you. Thankfully fully dressed this time.

‘Ah you’re here’ he smiled, turning the hob down so he could come and greet you with a kiss to your head. ‘Thea? Why don’t you go grab what you made mummy yesterday so you can show her yeah?’ He smiled and you quickly popped her down so she could run off before he touched your arm gently. ‘Can you let me explain?’

‘There nothing to-‘

‘Please’ he interrupted and with a little huff you gave him a nod. "Look, I’d do anything to protect you and Thea. That’s the whole reason we agreed she’d be secret and I just panicked yesterday. Amy asked who you were and I thought I’d just make something up to explain why you were here but you know I never meant to hurt you. That’s the last thing I’d want to do’

‘I know’ you whispered tearily and when he pulled you into his arms you didn’t fight back. Letting him hold you and stroke your hair to try and soothe you. Hating how his attempts at comfort worked so well on you. ‘It just gets hard sometimes’

‘I know, love. Trust me I know. I’d love nothing more than to shout from the rooftops about the two most important people in my life but I know this is for the best’ he breathed. ‘And I don’t want you to think I’ve got random girls over here all the time cause I don’t. I wouldn’t risk Thea being around people she didn’t know or I don’t trust’

Thea came bounding in soon after, a giant cut out of a turtle in her hands and it looked as though the shell had been painted by her repeatedly pressing her tiny hand into paint so her prints covered it and your eyes filled with tears immediately as you bent down to lift her up.

‘For you’ she smiled, pointing at it and you nodded whilst trying to clear your eyes. ‘Your favourite’

‘Yes baby, turtles are my favourite. Thank you I love it’ you told her, letting her nestle into your neck so she could give you a hug and Mason must have felt left out as you soon enough felt his arms around the pair of you.

It was times like this, when the three of you were together that made you feel most at peace. But the harsh reality was Mason wasn’t yours and looked to definitely not be now. You wanted to know about Amy but you also didn’t but when he eventually pulled away and once you’d popped Thea back on the floor, your mouth started talking before you could stop it.

‘Well Amy seemed nice. Is it serious? I presume you’ll want to tell her about Thea at some point?’

‘I uh, I only met her that night’ he told you, scratching the back of his neck awkwardly as he shut the dishwasher up and pressed it to start. ‘We’ve texted a bit before but that’s it’

‘Oh’ you breathed. ‘She told me she’d be around a lot more, like you guys were together’

‘I think she just felt a little threatened, was trying to mark her territory that wasn't hers anyway’

‘Threatened by what?’

‘Maybe the fact that a beautiful woman has the key to my house and can seemingly let herself in at any time?’ He laughed but his words made you freeze. ‘Don’t worry about her though, I won’t be seeing her again’

‘I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to ruin it for you’

‘You didn’t’ he smiled, lifting Thea up so he could press a kiss to her cheek. ‘She knew it was a one time thing’ he shrugged before placing her on the counter in front of you. ‘Now who’s hungry?’

Knowing Amy was nothing more than a one time thing made you feel happier than it should, but not for long. Just because she was out of the picture now only meant that the next girl was around the corner and you weren’t sure you could take it.

It had taken you a while but you knew how you felt about him now. You loved him with all of you. Whole heartedly. He was your everything, your protector, your safe space, a shoulder to lean on and to cry on.

But you were just a friend to him.

He’d never once tried to make a move on you, even when you felt like there could have been one he always backed off and it was never spoken about again so the pair of you carried on just as you were.

Co parents. That’s it.

~

‘I should probably head off back to Lew. He probably thinks I fell down the plug hole or something’ mason laughed, rolling his eyes before pulling you fully against him. Your arms wrapped around his shoulders as he held you at your waist but somehow things felt different.

This wasn’t a normal hug, Mason was holding onto you and didn’t seem to want to let go at all as he slowly rubbed circles into skin with his thumbs and nestled into your neck. There was a need on your part to hold him tighter, to reach up and stroke the back of his head like you used to when he’d fall asleep next to you when you were still pregnant. You were unsure if the thumping in your chest was your heart or his but as you finally reached up, it only got stronger as his whole body melted into yours. His nose burrowing into your neck even further to breathe in your scent and you could feel yourself turning to jelly as the content hum emitted from him.

This definitely wasn’t a normal hug.

‘I love you, y/n. You know that, don’t you?’ He told you, his words sending shockwaves through you and even though your mind had gone blank at his words you managed to stutter out a response.

‘I love you too, Mase’

You felt him shift, escaping your neck as he ever so slightly stood up. Your hand that was on the back of his head now trailing to the side of his face as you held him by his jaw and stroked his cheek gently. You didn’t know what was coming over you to be like this with him. Maybe the fact you were in the dark so you were feeling a bit braver but when he lightly stroked his nose across your temple before resting his forehead on yours, you couldn’t help but lean up and press a gentle kiss to his lips.

Mason didn’t react making you wonder if it was so soft that he didn’t actually even feel it but when his eyes flashed to yours and you realised he had, you felt your heart sink.

Any type of reaction would have been fine, but he was unreadable and you were starting to panic. Pulling away from him even further as you attempted to apologise for crossing that line but he pulled you closer, his lips making a beeline for yours but you ducked down so they met your forehead.

‘Hey, what’s wrong?’ He asked, trying to get you to look at him but you were far too embarrassed for that.

‘I’m sorry, I just got swept up I-‘

‘Are you kidding me?’ he laughed, making you look up to see what he found so funny but the look of joy on his face settled you. ‘You don’t know how long I’ve waited for that’

‘What do you mean? You whispered, confused as to what was happening but his smile was giving you courage.

‘Did you not hear what I just said? I love you. I’m in love with you, y/n. I really am. Have been this whole time. Not just because you’re the mother of my child and we’re forever connected but for who you are as just you. All I’ve wanted this whole time was for us to find our way to each other, please tell me you feel it, like I’m not going crazy am I?’

‘No you’re not’ you told him, voice barely audible as you were so overwhelmed but the smile on his face settled you. ‘Why have you never said?’

‘I always got the impression you didn't want me like that but I can't hold it in anymore. I can’t pretend like you’re not all I want’ he confessed and you felt tears spring in your eyes.

‘I’ve always wanted more with you but…’

‘What, love?’

‘I thought you didn’t want me like that. I heard you call me your friend to your dad once and just assumed that’s all you'd ever see me as’ you told him but the soft kiss to your forehead made you smile.

‘You’re so much more than a friend to me’ he laughed, reaching up to cup your jaw so you’d look at him properly ‘you’re mine okay?’ Always have been’

‘Yeah?’ You laughed, watching his smile break out even wider before he placed a delicate kiss on your nose.

‘Yeah’

‘I can’t believe this’ you laughed, reaching up to hold his face again. ‘When did you know?’

‘What, that I loved you?’ He asked and you nodded shyly, not quite believing the words that were coming out of his mouth. ‘I think I’ve always known really. Our 12 week scan always sticks out the most, I just loved seeing that excited look on your face when they finally pointed her out. I know you probably thought I was looking at the screen but I wasn’t. I was looking at you’ he confessed and your eyes stung as he smiled down at you softly. The gentle feel of his thumbs stroking over your cheeks making your heart flutter. ‘And then we were about five months in, and you came over to meet everyone properly. Do you remember?’

‘I remember’

‘You wore that bloody summer dress and it showed off your bump perfectly and I just remember thinking you were the most beautiful woman I’d ever seen. I just wanted you to be mine but I never got the feeling you wanted me to be yours’

‘I wanted you. I was just trying to protect myself a bit I guess’ you explained but he nodded sympathetically. ‘I can’t believe we’re having this conversation while I look like this’ you laughed, looking down at his baggy clothes you had on but his smile melted you.

‘What do you mean?’

‘We’ll look at me. I’m wearing your old pyjamas that are miles too big, my hairs a mess and I’ve got no makeup on’

‘You think I care about that’ he laughed, pressing his lips to your forehead and letting them linger there. ‘Don’t get me wrong, I think you look perfect everyday, like I don’t think I’ve ever seen you look bad. But getting to see you right now, like this. Just you exactly as you are. I don’t think you’ve ever been more beautiful to me’

‘Not even when I was pushing our daughter out of me?’ you joked, trying to deflect a little bit as his words had made your brain foggy and your knees weak and the way his lips were moving against your skin as he spoke onto your forehead wasn’t helping too much either.

‘Well you were a bit sweaty then and you kept swearing at me’

‘Hey’ you laughed, pulling back to look at him but his cheeky smile made you smile back just as wide.

‘Still beautiful though. Even then’ he winked. ‘When did you know’

‘I always have, but I was trying to push it down and I thought I had until…’ you trailed off, watching as his brows raised in hopes you would continue. So you stood tall and decided to be honest with him. ‘Remember when I walked in on you and that girl in the kitchen?’ You asked, watching his face crumple in embarrassment as he rested his head on yours again.

‘I remember. I felt like shit when I realised it was you and all I wanted was for you to tell me you felt like shit too but you told me it wasn’t your business. That killed me, you know. I wanted it to be your business. I wanted you to tell me you hated seeing me with someone else cause I was yours and you needed me like I needed you. Like I still need you.’

‘I felt like shit too’ you laughed, watching his eyes soften at your words. ‘That’s why I couldn’t even look at you cause I felt like my cover would be blown but I hated seeing you with her cause in my mind you were mine, are mine and I do need you’

‘You’ve got me’ he whispered.

‘You’ve got me too’ you replied softly, relaxing into his hand that cupped your face

‘Is this the part where I’m supposed to kiss you now?’ He whispered, A cheeky smile on his face as his eyes darted across your features and down to your lips causing you to take in a short breath. This is all you’d wanted for the longest time so you shut your eyes and let him place his lips on yours.

Kissing him was everything you thought it would be. He was gentle but firm as he lazily kissed you like he had all the time in the world, but you felt like you did. This was just the start for the pair of you and you couldn’t help but moan as he dipped his tongue into your mouth. Everything felt perfect and you wanted to stay in this little moment forever before you had to pull away.

You were both out of breath, foreheads touching as you smiled at each other but just before you were about to speak Thea made her presence known and began to cry. You both jumped apart at the sound, Mason reaching down to scoop her up and into his arms and you rubbed her back soothingly whilst leaning on Mason's shoulder so you could try and catch her eyes.

‘What’s wrong baby? Bad dream?’ You asked and the small nod of her head confirmed your thoughts. ‘Oh sweetheart. How about you me and daddy get into bed so we can have a cuddle. Would you like that?’ You asked her before looking at Mason who was staring at you in semi shock. ‘If that’s okay. You don’t mind staying for a bit do you?’

‘You really think I wanna go bunk with Lew and leave you in here after everything we’ve said tonight’ he laughed.

‘Go jump in, I just need the loo’ you told him before quickly rushing off.

You couldn't stop looking at yourself in the mirror. It was still the same you as before but your eyes were brighter, cheeks flushed and you knew you hadn’t looked this happy in a long time.

When you came back in, Mason was under the covers with Thea. His body facing yours as Thea cuddled up to him and by the looks of things she was already back to sleep, safe in her daddy’s arms.

As soon as he saw you, Mason pulled the covers back and held his arm out to help you in next to him. Even though Thea was sandwiched in between you she was low enough so that you could still see his face and the shy smile he sent you made your tummy flutter. This is all you’d ever wanted, the three of you as a happy little family and when Mason reached over to drop a quick kiss on your lips you let him.

‘Will you come back to mine tomorrow?’ Mason whispered, trying not to wake Thea from her sleep now she was finally back off. ‘I feel like we should talk about this a bit more’

‘Of course I will’ you smiled, a shiver rolling through you and you felt him lean across Thea to place his hand on your waist. Feeling like all your little puzzle pieces had finally fallen into the right place. ‘I wonder what your family will say. I feel like we’ll have to tell them when we’ve figured it out for ourselves’

‘I think my dad knows already somehow’

‘How?’

‘Well when the move to Manchester came about, I almost didn’t take it. I couldn’t face the thought of leaving you and I had a right go at my dad for even suggesting it’ he explained quietly with a little laugh.

~

You remembered the day well. Letting yourself into Mason's house and you could hear the argument in the kitchen all the way from the front door, Mason was furious about something although you couldn’t quite tell what yet. Thankfully Thea was sleeping so you ran her upstairs to place her into her room before heading back down and you sat on the stairs in order to listen to what they were saying.

‘I can’t go there, I’m sorry. I need to be close to here’ Mason told his dad seriously but the sounds of Tony sighing made you realise this conversation was far from over.

‘Mason, you can’t let this opportunity slip through your fingers-‘

‘I’m sorry, but it’s not happening. No way I’m not being that far away from them’

You felt awkward sitting and listening in so you took the plunge and went to see the pair of them. Tony’s eyes lighting up as soon as he saw you before he nodded over to Mason.

‘Finally, will you talk some sense into him please?’ He asked before leaving you to it so you quickly took up the seat next to him and you couldn’t help but think he looked like a frightened little boy.

‘Mase, what’s up?’ You asked, your heart breaking as his bottom lip wobbled slightly.

‘All my contract stuff with chels is still up in the air and they basically won’t talk to me about it. Pretty sure they wanna sell me so I’ve been given some proposals by other clubs’

‘Okay’ you nodded, placing a comforting hand on his shoulder. ‘That’s good though right?’

‘They’re so far away though’ he huffed ‘United have sent their personal terms through and I’m just feeling a bit reluctant to agree’

‘Why’s that? Is it not what you were expecting?’

‘No, it’s great, like more than I could ever want but I don’t wanna be away from you’ he confessed quietly. Your heart racing at his words before he seemed to catch himself. ‘The both of you like I don’t see Thea as much as I’d like to anyway and now you’d be hours away I can’t do it y/n-‘

‘Hey Mase, it’s okay’ you told him, pulling him into your arms and you were surprised at how he clung to you like he thought you might disappear. Your heart thudding at how tightly he was holding you but you knew it was because he was trying to hold his emotions in.

‘I don’t want any of this’ he sniffled. ‘Why is this happening?’

‘Mason, you don’t have to get upset, it's okay. You’re so talented and of course you’re gonna have clubs from everywhere after you. Please don’t pass up this opportunity’

‘I just don’t wanna be that far away. I don’t want anything to change’

‘Mason look at me’ you asked, pulling back and resting your hands on his shoulders but the sadness in his eyes hurt you. ‘You’ve got nothing to worry about, okay. Wherever you end up, that’s where you can find us okay? We’re a family and I won’t break that apart’

‘You mean…?’

‘We’ll come with you, Mase. The only thing that ties us to here is you so there wouldn’t be any point in staying if you’re not here. It can be a fresh start for all of us’

‘Are you sure?’ He whimpered and could could see the relief flooding through him.

‘Of course I’m sure. Home is where the heart is right?’ You smiled and your heart broke at his wobbly lip.

He didn’t say a word, just pulled you into his arms forcefully and held you to him as tight as you could and you finally felt him relax.

~

‘When you hugged me, my dad snuck back in the kitchen and saw us. Started giving me the eyes like he knew something was going on between us. I just rolled my eyes at him like he was talking shit but he was right. He could see how I felt from a mile off but I was convinced it would never happen’

‘Of course he did’ you laughed, a yawn escaping your lips as he squeezed you side gently.

‘I know we need to talk, but let's get some sleep. We’ve got a long drive tomorrow’ he whispered and even though you didn’t want to, you knew he was right so with one final kiss you both settled down and shut your eyes.

When you woke up the next morning, Debbie was the last person you thought you’d see in your room. Carefully picking up Thea from between you as Mason scolded her lightly but she quickly made her exit before you could ask what was happening although from the sounds of her gentle laughs you knew what she was thinking already.

‘Well I guess they know now’ he laughed, shuffling his way over to you to be closer and you could feel yourself melting into his touch. ‘Apparently Lew said I never came to bed last night and she came searching for me but she’s taken Thea to get her some breakfast’ he explained and you nodded shyly, content in his arms as your legs tangled together before you started smiling at each other lovingly. ‘whenever you’re ready, I want everyone else to know too. I’m done keeping this a secret’

‘What? I thought you wanted this to be between us’ you asked but the twinkle in his eye made you melt.

‘Everyone else is allowed to show off their family and I’ve had enough of keeping you two to myself. I wanna do the same’ he told you quietly before finally pressing his lips to yours in a much needed kiss. ‘Unless you don’t want to. We can still keep things on the down low if you think that’s best’

‘I’m ready for everyone to know’ you smiled. ‘I want everyone to know you’re mine’

‘And you’re mine’ he smiled softly, hand cupping your jaw so he could gently caress your face before leaning down to kiss you again.

You’d done it. He was yours.

You wanted to get carried away, caught up in his kisses and pour yourself into him to prove that you wanted him just as much as he did but all the sounds from downstairs were making it hard to concentrate and you knew you had to face his family sooner or later.

‘Come on, let’s get it over and done with’ he laughed, pulling you to his body so that he could hold you even tighter and when he felt you chuckle, he kissed the top of your head lovingly. ‘Well in a few minutes maybe’

You made it downstairs eventually, Mason keeping his hand in yours the whole time as you sat at the table next to Thea and it was almost as if everyone was ignoring the obvious until Tony took the seat opposite you and sent you a wide smile.

‘I would say welcome to the family but you’ve been here a while’ he teased before his eyes were on Mason. ‘Bloody took you long enough’

‘Yeah yeah, alright’ Mason laughed, a slight blush on his cheeks as he tried to brush off everyone’s jibes and even though you were a little embarrassed yourself, Masons hand was clasped firmly around yours and you knew you were finally home.

masonmount

liked by y/n, declanrice, sophiaameila and others

masonmount thank you everyone for the birthday love. The greatest gift I got this year was being able to spend it back home with my whole family, my baby girl and the woman who’s turned my whole life upside down in the best way possible 🤍 I can’t wait to see what the next year brings.

View more comments

Y/n we love you so much 🥺 I’m so excited about this next step in our journey together 🩷

masonmount Love you more mumma 🩷

delcanrice daddy Mase

masonmount 😏

sophiaameila I’ve been waiting for this day for the longest time I swear 🥺 the cutest family in the world 🩷

masonmount so have I 😂 thank you for everything soph

lew.mount love you guys ❤️

Y/n Thea loves her uncle Lew 🩷

masonmount ❤️❤️❤️

tammyabraham sorry, since when do you have a child?

masonmount long story bro, we’ll catch up soon I promise 😂

benchilwell wow you think you know a guy

masonmount don’t start or I’ll cut your visitation hours

benchilwell you would never, I know Thea misses her favourite uncle 😌 happy for you bro 🩷

woody_ finally got your girl 🙌🏻

Y/n took him long enough

manchesterunited our favourite little red ❤️

masonmount ❤️❤️❤️

[malfoyscoffee]

cruel summer ౨ৎ theodore nott

pairing theodore nott x fem!reader genre fluff, slightest angst | 2.4k words | best friends to lovers warnings mentions of alcohol consumption, crying, and au with no voldemort. song "cruel summer" — lover, taylor swift

It was the best summer you could have asked for.

All your friends had decided to spend your last summer before graduation at one of your estates; one located in a small yet beautiful muggle town where no one knew of your identities.

Your big and empty villa helped everyone have their own space. Yet you had spent every waking moment making more fun memories and getting close to your friends, especially Theodore.

Even yesterday, the two of you went out to the nearby beach and returned drenched from the ocean water and rain combined, forgetting to bring spare clothes to the spontaneous trip. Your friends didn’t bat an eye when the two of you returned like wet dogs, knowing it was normal for you two to go on your own adventures.

Today marked the final three days before summer ended before you had to return to Hogwarts for your seventh year.

The sun was starting to set, painting the sky with pastel colors, and a gentle breeze carried the scent of ash from the bonfire that Mattheo and Blaise had started. Your group had recently learned of a muggle snack called Smores, so everyone found a spot around the fire, trying to make the treat for the first time.

“We should all go out to the town bar later tonight since it’s better to be hungover tomorrow than the last day,” Draco suggested, leaning back in his seat as you took a bite out of the dessert. You leaned over to Theodore, who shared the spacious seat with you, letting him take a bite too.

"That’s a brilliant idea, it's our last night to drink before we start the semester,” Mattheo agreed, nodding along with what most of the group was thinking.

Theodore shifted next to you, leaning down on your shoulder while speaking up, “I’m feeling a bit under the weather, so go without me.”

You looked at your best friend closely, not realizing sooner that he had felt sick today.

"Did you catch a cold from yesterday?” Pansy inquired, reaching over to one of the plates to grab some graham crackers. There were many plates sprawled out over the side tables filled with crackers, marshmallows, and chocolate bars.

You felt Theodore nod next to you, "Yeah, I think it’s from the rain yesterday, I’ll be fine though. You guys go without me,” Theodore reassured, popping a marshmallow into his mouth.

“I’ll come to pick you up if you want to head back early from the bar later,” He spoke with his mouth full, making you laugh as you could barely make out his sentence.

After he finished eating the marshmallow, he placed his arm around your waist, pulling you closer. “Thanks, Theo,” You said before taking the last bite of your Smore.

He smiled brightly at you before the group soon fell into different topics. 

You eventually got up from your seat, walking over to the girls to listen to the latest gossip that Pansy heard through the grapevine.

However, a conversation caught the attention of everyone.

“You're going to go abroad?” Lorenzo's eyes widened at Theodore's announcement, causing a hush to fall over the group.

You turned straight to where you were previously sitting. Blaise was the next to speak, “Mate, when was this decided?” Everyone waited for Theodore’s response while your nervousness suddenly kicked in.

Sure, none of you verbally discussed your future after Hogwarts, but it was a silent agreement assumption that all your friends would settle down nearby.

“I’m planning on going to the States for a while, nothing is set yet though.”

Your heart sank as you watched Theodore's gaze meet yours, his expression a mixture of regret and apprehension.

"When were you going to tell us?” You questioned, still shocked by this announcement.

He looked down at his hands, feeling ashamed for keeping this from everyone, especially you.

“i just didn’t know when to bring it up, so thanks Enz,” Theodore glared at Lorenzo, “For dropping the bomb like this.” He spoke sarcastically at the boy who sighed.

Astoria tried to lighten the mood, noticing the frown on your lips, “Draco, aren’t you going to London after we graduate?”

The conversation shifted to Draco’s plans to study in university longer to become a healer before the group shifted to another topic.

You couldn’t focus after hearing about Theodore’s future plans being abroad, meaning it would get hard to see him.

But why were you worried when he was just your best friend?

“Hey, can you both go inside and help me get more ingredients?” Pansy asked you and Astoria loudly, the two of you agreed to go inside for a moment.

“So, are you going to tell Theo?” Astoria looked at you, curiosity playing in her eyes. She walked over to the shopping bags on the kitchen island to grab more chocolate bars.

“Tell Theo what?” You stare at her with confusion, walking over to your pantry to grab the marshmallow bags. Pansy sighed, setting out more plates for the ingredients on the counter.

“Are you going to tell Theo that you like him?” You froze your actions for a second, standing in the middle of the kitchen with the marshmallow bag in your arms.

“What do you mean? We're just best friends.” You wave them off and open the bag.

Astoria slaps a hand to her forehead, “Yeah, but you fancied him for years! Also, the two of you have been hanging out every single day of our summer. What two best friends don’t get sick of each other and act like a couple?”

“Two blind idiots, that is.” Pansy finishes Astoria’s question, right as you finish pouring the marshmallows.

You sigh, “Okay, sure I fancy Theo. But you guys just heard that he’s leaving for the states after graduation. I won’t even see him, so it’s hopeless.”

You felt yourself getting more upset at the idea that Theodore didn’t tell you before, “Why did he hide that information though?”

Astoria walked around the kitchen island to comfort you, a hand resting on your back. "You know, it’s okay if you do end up confessing to Theo. We still have one year at school together,” Astoria comforted you.

Pansy picks up the plates you filled and sets it on the island, “Also, didn’t you hear when he said it’s not set yet? He might not go abroad, who knows?”

You turn around and grab the plates, walking towards the door to go back outside, “It's useless, he doesn’t like me back. Let's just forget this happened.”

A few hours later, you sat in a booth at the town’s muggle bar with everyone except Theodore.

The muggle bar was bustling with activity, filled with the raucous sounds of drunken laughter and the rhythmic beat of music from the large speakers. Your group opted to sit in the big booth instead, the furthest away from the commotion. This was more fun as it was similar to what you did at parties back at Hogwarts.

In front of you laid three empty pitchers, once full of dirty shirleys, the alcohol gone in two hours due to your rushed drinking.

“Can someone drink the rest of my vodka cran?” Astoria asked, leaning into Blaise’s shoulder. Everyone chuckled at her behavior, knowing Astoria was always the first one to get tired while drinking.

Blaise pushed her cup towards Mattheo, who gladly accepted the drink for himself. Most of your friends had a high alcohol tolerance, so it was expected to drink for hours.

“It’s okay, you can close your eyes for a bit,” Blaise spoke while looking down at Astoria with adoring eyes. The entire group saw the interaction, feeling bittersweet about the affectionate couple in your friend group.

“Salazar, if only I had a boyfriend who would watch me while I'm out drinking,” You spoke while grabbing Astoria’s—now Mattheo’s, drink and chugging it down.

Everyone was taken aback by your action because this was not how you usually acted during the many years of drinking with you. 

“You do have someone who takes care of you every time you drink.” Draco reminds you while pushing the vodka cranberry away from you.

You stare at Draco with wide eyes, “No, Dray, Theo only sees me as a friend.” You let out a dramatic sigh and your friends laugh at your obvious crush, which only Theodore hasn’t picked up on yet.

Draco puts his hands up in surrender, but with his signature smirk, “I didn’t even have to say his name for you to talk about him, huh?”

“Theodore Nott, my best friend, does not like me.” You groan while putting your hands on your eyes and leaning back in the comfortable seat.

Tears welled up in your eyes, catching everyone off guard as your emotions spilled over. “Guys, Thor’s going to leave for the States. How will I see him when he’s abroad for Merlin knows how long?”

Pansy started to pass your napkins to wipe away your tears, while Lorenzo took out his phone. “I’m going to text Theo to pick her up.”

Pansy nodded at Lorenzo before looking at you in pity, “Yeah, she’s going to be out soon.”

Everyone kept their gaze on you as your tears eventually stopped falling. “Rest your head and sleep a little.” Mattheo spoke while moving your head to his shoulder while you closed your eyes.

Seeing your eyes closed, Draco twirled the black straw in his cup, “So when do you guys think they’re going to get together?”

Pansy chuckled at the comment, taking out her phone to snap a few photos of you for memory's sake. “First week after we get back to school, I’ll bet on it.”

"I say in one day,” Mattheo chimed in with a grin, resuming the conversation while you rested.

"Theodore!” You exclaim while running to your best friend. You pull him into a hug while breaking into a big smile, Theodore laughing at your drunk state.

Theodore waves behind you to say goodbye to Mattheo and Pansy, who walked you outside the building. Everyone else planned to stay longer at the bar.

The fresh cold breeze greeted you as you stepped outside, causing you to shiver lightly for not dressing for the weather.

Theodore quickly draped his hoodie over your head, the fabric offering warmth against the chilly evening air.

The cold breeze nipped at your skin, causing goosebumps to form as you wrapped Theodore’s hoodie tighter around yourself.

Theodore quickly found your hand and intertwined it, a smile reaching both of your faces. The two of you walked back to the villa in comfortable silence.

It was a short walk back and when you arrived, you excitedly pulled Theodore to your spot.

You had told Theodore about the garden kept away in the gates in the back of your villa, hanging out many times during your stay. You decided to keep the garden a secret, wanting it to be your little hideout.

“Did you have a fun time?” Theodore asks first, walking towards the white bench placed in the garden.

You shake your head, staring at your connected hands,“No, Blaise and Astoria were being so cute it made me sad.”

Theodore frowned, pulling you to sit down next to him. Your connected hands were placed on his lap.

“It’s okay, you can tell me anything” Theodore reassured, unsure if you would open up to him while being drunk. He knew the walk back would sober you up a bit, but not completely.

“It’s just,” You stopped to think about your next words while Theodore waited for you to continue.

“Never mind, I’m fine.”

“But that’s not true.”

Theodore’s gaze bore into your own, not making any effort to move. The moonlight cast a soft glow over Theodore's features, illuminating his face as he looked at you with a mixture of concern and affection.

"Let’s just go inside,” You suggest, standing up from the bench and pulling his hand.

“Did you cry?” Theodore asks, being able to see your face more clearly after you’ve stood up.

Theodore rose and cupped a hand on your face, tracing over your cheeks. “Why did you cry?”

You place a hand over his hand, moving it away from his face. “This,” You break free from his hold completely and take a step to create space away from him, “Theo, this is why I cried. You’re the reason that I cried.”

Theodore stares at you without saying anything, making you more frustrated.

“Theo, I love you, isn’t that the worst thing you’ve ever heard?” You yell your confession, finally voicing the feelings you’ve kept from him. Your heart raced as you finally voiced the feelings you had kept hidden for so long, the weight of your confession hanging in the air.

Theodore had a devious grin on his face, his laughter echoing in the quiet garden as he pulled you into a reassuring hug. “That’s the best thing I’ve heard in my life.”

You stand there shocked at his actions, “No,” You mumble into his shoulder. “No, this can’t be happening.”

You pull away from his hug, “Theo, you’re going abroad after graduation, I won’t even see you. Salazar, how is this even going to happen? No, how are we going to happen? Wait, do you even like me?”

As Theodore pressed a tender kiss to your forehead, you felt a surge of warmth flood through you, dispelling the lingering doubts and fears. “You really can’t see that I’ve loved you since first year?”

Your mouth is open from shock, and Theodore laughs once again, this time wiping the tears away.

“This can work. I’ll be gone for a few months but I’ll come back, here, to be with you.”

You look at Theodore, a smile now forming, “So we can do this? Give this relationship a try?”

“Yes, now let’s walk inside, you’re going to catch a cold.”

You give Theodore a quick peck on his cheek, before taking his hand again.

“You know,” Theodore pulls your intertwined hands to kiss your hand, leading you to exit the garden.

You blush at his action, “What?” You ask curiously.

“It’s a cruel summer with you.”

And you can guess that Mattheo won that bet.

[lemon-popp]

Spending time with the Sith: episode iii

Pairing: Qimir x Black! female oc

Warnings: swearing, NSFW smut (intense making out, fingering in the pool), fluff, mention of cancer and death. PROBABLY GRAMMAR AND TYPING ERRORS (not proof read)

Word count: 4,9k

masterlist

The sun has risen, the fiery ball shining its yellow hue through the length of the cave, giving it a dreamy glowy haze. The light creeps deeper in the cave, making its way to the bedroom in which Luna laid peacefully on her back. The wrapped messy bun that once sat atop of her head was now let loose due to the lack of a bonnet and her insufferable tossing and turning last night. Deep brown curls fell across her face and sprawled out against the pillow she used. As if her faced was framed by a chocolate cumulus cloud. Her body stretch out like a starfish, one leg hanging off the bed and out the duvet, the other bent like a hook. This was the best sleep she has gotten in a long time.

The planet's main light source finally reaches Luna's eyes, begging her to get up and start the day. She answers to nature's alarm clock with fluttering eyes, adjusting to the change of the darkness of behind her lids. A yawn escapes her as she stretches, a loud groan escaping her mouth. She was sure she had sleep marks littering her face as she sat up straight, immediately noticing the lack of presence of a certain someone. The spot next to her was vacant, Qimir no where to be found.

Luna furrows her brows with confusion, wondering if she illusioned him climbing into the bed last night. Conjuring the mahogany scent he carried after his bath in the pool. The warmth she felt radiating from him even though they were easily three feet apart. He was there. There's no doubt. Then why dd he leave?

Was I snoring? kicking him? Or worse...what if I stunk? I mean I haven't taken a decent shower since I was home.

Luna grimaced, lifting her arms up to take a shameful whiff of her pits. The smell wasn't awful, definitely manageable, but compared to his polished state last night it was probably way more noticeable. Luna cringed hard, noting that she must take a dip in that pool of his before being met with him again.

With one final stretch, Luna shimmies off the bed, lighting testing if she could put more pressure on her foot. Nope. The defeated girl sighs. Although she didn't want to admit it, hopping into the bedroom and changing clothes with one foot was a pretty demanding activity that she didn't want to go through for the rest of today. Especially with her helper randomly running off like this.

Luna's eyes scan his cluttered room, filled with various trinkets from different planets that gave the assumption of his being well traveled, searching for something to use to help her walk. After, a couple look throughs, her eyes catch something. A cane.

ha, gotcha

Luna hobbles her way to the wooden cane that leaned against the stone wall across from the bed. Dust littered the handle signifying its obviously very frequent use. The young woman slender fingers wrap around the handicap tool, feeling the smooth naturally carved ridges.

perfect

Luna leans on the cane, using it as a crutch to freely move herself about the stoned home, unbothered to change back into her tactical gear since she was alone apparently. Her short stature limped to the main room clad in her black tank top and matching shorts that rode up high on her plump butt.

Luna walks toward the stove, wondering if there was more of that soup to eat for breakfast. To no luck, the pot was empty causing a disappointed sigh to leave her lips.

i’ll make sure to ask for the recipe before i leave…if he ever returns

Her mind trails off of her growing hunger going back to the man that took her in yesterday. Where had he run off? How come he trusted her to be alone in his home. She could snoop. Steal his valuables.

Was he stupid? or did he just trust me?

“Trust is a strong word, young one,” Qimir’s deep, timber voice echoes off the walls into Luna’s not-so-sharp ears, causing her to jump. Her hand clutches at her chest feeling the race of her heart that thumps from being startled in such a way. Taking her time to catch her breath before processing what Qimir just said.

How did he-What? Did he just answer my question? How? How did he know?

Qimir smiles, with his signature smirk, from the entrance of the cave, his muscular arms crossing, taking in the girl’s confused face as her mind races. The man has been standing there for a while, watching Luna make her way to the stove in her undergarments that made her look ravishing. The black spandex shorts clinging onto the curve of her ass like a second skin. Ass that bounced gently with every crippling step she took. A part of Qimir. A rather large part, wants nothing more than to shove his face in it. But that wasn’t really appropriate at the moment.

So instead, he stood there broodingly, using the Force to read her mind. To gauge her true intentions. There was a an initial doubt in his mind when it came to her, that temporarily washed away with her (possible) ‘mom has cancer’ crying act. But the unsure feeling that was subdued quickly crawled back to the forefront of his mind upon waking up at the crack of dawn.

Qimir rushed out of bed, a strange feeling rumbling in his gut telling him to search the immediate area for possible jedi. He still believed this was a trap.

A girl this perfect. A heart so sweet, but careful fortified with fearlessness. A face and body that could entangle any man, woman or creature in a dangerous web. She’s too good to NOT be a trap.

After hours of trekking he found nothing. They were still the only ones on this planet, but he still had one more trick up his sleeve to find out her true reason for being here.

“I know. I just—that’s just how i felt,” Luna regained her composure with a grip on her cane, bringing Qimir back to the present. Instead of overthinking and coming up with impossible realities, Luna chalks up his strange statement to a recall of her sleepy words last night.

“I trust you” The words from the last night rushing back into her memory that Qimir reads.

If she was working with the Jedi she would know that he was reading her mind. Hell, she would even attempt to fortify her mind. Not give him easy access like an open book on a table.

Maybe she’s really not an enemy.

“Anyway, you bring any food back?,” Luna fills the silence with a large expecting smile. Hoping that he had returned with the ingredients to make that delicious goopy soup.

Qimir rolls his eyes reluctantly letting her brightness infect him. The way her lips curled into the smile, showing the straight teeth she had, it made his heart flutter. He reached into the bag he carried, grabbing a yellow banana to which he tosses across the cave in her direction, watching her stumble to catch.

“hopefully that’ll hold you over until dinner,” Qimir officially makes his way deeper into the main room. Dropping the bag that hung from his bouldery shoulders with a loud thud to the ground, taking a seat on the lonely chair. He gazed up at the woman in front of him who held the fruit in her grasp, clearly disappointed that this was all there was to eat.

“How’s your ankle?,” Qimir points his shoe covered foot towards her, motioning to her injury. Luna shakes her head slightly taking a bite from the banana.

“I don’t know. The pain keeps going in and out. It’s annoying,” The gorgeous woman sighs, clearly defeated. She wanted nothing more than to be better already and get her hell out of here.

Qimir takes in a deep breath hoping to ease the churning feeling in his stomach. Guilt rush over him from knowing that he could heal her with a quick graze of his fingers if he really wanted to. I mean, It’s not like he didn’t want to, the selfless part of him truly did want to. But his self-serving side overshadowed that thought.

If he were to share his power with her, it would require him to reveal who he really was. For her to accept him. To accept the arguably terrible things he’s done. To give him her trust. And for him to accept that trust.

He wasn’t ready to do that.

She’s just gonna have to wait until nature takes its course and heals her.

“You’ll be healed soon. I do have medicine,” The seated man swallowed trying to ease the sickening sensation that brewed in his stomach. Although he felt this way, Qimir did a successful job at acting cool and smug like usual.

Luna rolls her eyes at his nonchalant statement, heat rising from the passion of her chest to almond of her eyes.

“Soon?! I need to be healed now! She’s out there waiting for me,” She wailed with tears starting to stream out of her eyes, down the plump apples of her cheeks. Staining the brown porcelain skin of hers. Voiced quivering as her tone was now raised to a soft yell. Even when upset her voice still sounded sweet like a perfect jar of honey.

Qimir’s heart clenched, but he stayed silent. Unsure of what to do to help her. To soothe her. They meet each other’s eyes, sharing a look of sorrow before Luna’s suddenly becomes overcome with anger that is followed by her ‘storming’ towards the cave’s exit.

“And you’re off to?,” The powerful man’s eyes never left her, following her movements that seemed to be leaving.

Luna stops briefly.

“I’m gonna wash myself. care to join,” Her voice drastically less sweet than before now laced with malice as she spoke sarcastically, mocking his words from last night. It hurt Qimir at first, confusing him.

What did i do? I didn’t twist her ankle. Granted, i could heal her, but she doesn’t know that.

Thinking quickly, Qimir uses the Force to get into her mind once again. The words lingered in her head, feeling bad for the delivery but the statement holding true. She was on her way to take a dip in his ocean pool, hopefully to relieve herself from the intense emotions that filled her. Another statement held true as well. Well it wasn’t a statement but rather an invitation. Despite her awkward response to his inquiry last night, part of her wished she answered with confidence. That reflected what her body ached. So she mocked him. half doing it out of spite, the other genuinely open for him to join.

The ache that tortured Qimir eased upon acquiring this information. If she wanted him to join, he’ll join. It was the least he could do for her if he wasn’t going to heal her.

Qimir peels himself off the chair, sauntering his way to the same direction Luna has gone, immediately seeing her in the middle of the shore, back turned to him as she stared at the glistening blue water.

Luna begins with a drop of the cane, the thudding sound muted by the sand. Her delicate hands then grabs the bottom of her black tank, pulling it over her head. Her curls being ruffled even more with this action. Next were her black shorts which she climbed out of awkwardly, trying to avoiding damaging her foot even more.

The girl now stood bare. Only her backside unknowingly exposed to Qimir who stares unabashedly. Admiring the deep line that started between her defined shoulder blades and stopped right above the dimples of her back. Her ass even more perfect outside the shorts, so round and plump, like a nice pillow.

The extraordinary sight afar has a dramatic affect on our man standing ten feet away. All the blood that was used to function quite literally his whole body, rushed to his appendage that now strained against his briefs. He groans out quietly to himself to not disturb the clueless lady as he rubs the growing ache.

Luna feels the breeeze blowing against her nipples, causing her to shiver slightly before taking her first gentle, limping, steps into the water. The soft liquid wrapping around her like a warm blanket, her body melting into it, almost becoming one with the powerful element. Her eyes close, focusing on keeping her breathing steady to keep her emotions at bay. But not even this relaxing bath could help. Visions of her mom flashed through her mind. Visions of her worrying about Luna’s whereabouts. Worrying if her daughter was dead. The worrying ultimately worsening her condition, expediting the punch in date.

Luna’s chest tightens around her pounding heart, constricting the vital organ. Her throat closing slowly as if hands were clutching tightly to it. making it hard for her to breathe. Her head swaying from dizziness, until a large, calloused hand lands on her shoulder, pulling her back to the real world. Her breath hitches in the tight airway of her esophagus.

Luna’s head glances back at the hand that touched her, surprised that Qimir followed her especially after her tone. His towering presence burned behind her, a realization run through her mind that they were both bare. She wasn’t uncomfortable though by this realization though. Just surprised.

Qimir notes how her body slightly relaxes at his touch, fully expecting her to probably lash out again. He sighs, still seeing how her overthinking tormented her endless mind.

Sure he had no clue how it feels to go through a pain quite like this. To have a mother at all. Let alone a mother you’ve spent your whole life with who you’re about to lose.

Luna drops her head in defeat, letting drops of salty tears drop into the large cast of salty water as she cried silently. Qimir takes the opportunity to help her clean as her. His large hands cup together, gathering a pool of water to which he gently pours down her back, washing any grime that littered her deep skin. The water trickles down the line of her back. A line he desired to lick.

Qimir stood behind her. Decorated with perfectly carved muscles, strength used to kill anyone who cross him. However, the strength that was shown right now was his restraint.

Qimir has seen countless of women in a similar fashion. A fun past he did have indeed, but none of them had an effect quite like this on him. A woman suggesting anything remotely related to sex, he would pounce on her. Taking them quick and roughly, fulfilling his own pleasure. Although this was…different. Yes, he found her alluring, which was an understatement. He craved almost nothing more than to ruin her. key word being almost, what he craved more was taking care of her. protecting her.

His fingers massages her skin with his nimble fingers, starting at the nape of her neck climbing up to the curly thicket of her hair. His left hand takes a handful of her thick hair, making a makeshift ponytail to full expose the length of her neck. The other unused hand graze up her damp arm tantalizingly slow up to her shoulder, feeling her buttery skin on his tips.

The little action setting Luna’s skin on fire.

Qimir bends slightly at his waist, bringing his face next to hers, his pink lips centimeters away from the conch of her ear. Light breaths escapes his lips, breathes that make contact with her exposed neck. Her glossy eyes close to full take in his touch. To focus all of her senses on the gentle touch Qimir gave her.

“you will see your mom again,” Qimir’s deep voice vibrates into the shell of her ear, the affirmation soaring through her mind. A light smile grows across Luna’s face as she appreciates the reassurance, especially after just beating herself up minutes ago.

“you promise?,” She whispers with a rasp that resulted from how much she has been crying. Her eyes remained close fearing that once she’d open them her mind would go back to forging false realities of her mother. So Luna keeps them closed, opting for the relaxing touch of Qimir’s gentle but possessive grip on her.

do i promise??

In the very short time Qimir has known Luna, he has definitely grown to care for her. Even in his paranoia that she was a Jedi spy, he still took her in. Fed her. Offered his bed. Which terrified him. Caring for someone terrified him. Because caring led to betrayal. Caring leads to loss. it could lead to love…which, in his case, was a deep vulnerability. Him promising was a test, a test to see how far he’d go for her, how much he cared for this girl.

Qimir stayed silent to avoid answering, using the tips of his fingers that grazed down the side of her body to distract from the unanswered question. His large vascular hand untangles from her curls and breaks through the surface of the water, following the path of his other hand. His palms descend lower and lower down her body, feeling the deep curve of her waist, before landing on the protrusion of her round hips. The digits on his hand grip tightly, not one tight enough to cause the girl pain, but one that would require a skilled maneuver to escape.

Qimir twists Luna by this advantage point, forcing the beaut to now face him. A gasp emits from her lips, stumbling from the quick and sudden movement which inadvertanty send her falling into his chest. A fall that she breaks with gentle hands placed firmly on his defined chest. Feeling his hammering heart beat.

As her wet miniature hands made contact with his body, it was almost as if an electrical current punctured his heart and traveled down south. Inflating his cock. The hands that once had a gentle grasp on Luna’s hips to become much firmer as he pulled her lower half away from his growing appendage.

Luna's eyes climbs up the man’s upper body slowy, unabashedly taking her time to take in the detail of his olive skin and the scars that littered him. She wondered where they all came from, considering that he lives alone on this planet.

He probably hasn’t ALWAYS lived here, Luna. The man has a past.

The girl shoos off the thought, continuing her visual climb until she finally meets her destination. His eyes. His eyes that were already closed on her. Eyes that peered through his perfectly fallen strands of black hair that tickles her forehead. Eyes that were clouded, laced with a feeling way stronger than lust at the moment. Eyes that make Luna gasp.

Their eye contact doesn’t waver. Even with the fact that the water they stood idle in was crystal clear. Allowing a HD view to the others full front side. What Qimir’s v-line was pointing to underneath those black pants. Or the taut breasts that was covered by a flimsy tank top. Neither of their eyesight faltered. The passion and the intensity from the stare being more than enough for them.

Qimir gives her his infamous smirk, one that intimidates many, but was currently being used to hide the absolute control this woman has over him.

The left hand that was previously placed on her hip, was now under her jawline, his thumb caressing the silky skin of her face. Wiping the remaining streak of tears that stained her golden skin before placing his thumb flat on her pillowy full lips. Fighting to urge to part them, sticking it in, or anything else.

“Of all my years. You are the most beautiful woman i have ever met,” Qimir’s drops his voice down to whisper, as if it was a secret, as they literally weren’t the only two here right now. Similar to the affect of Luna’s touch on Qimir’s chest, The words the leave his mouth enters her hear and immediately reaches her womanhood which was already throbbing from the moment Qimir entered the pool. In an attempt to ease the pulsating, Luna squeeze her thighs together causing a soft moan to escape in turn before she could catch it.

“What do you say…when someone gives you a compliment?,” Qimir’s head dipped lower, finding the crook between Luna’s shoulder and neck and buring himself there. His breath tickling her with every spoken word. Dominance oozed out of him so naturally, dominance that lured Luna in like a worm to a fish. His pink lips first pressed gently on her thumping artery, laying continuous pecks up the length of her neck to her jaw, and across her cheek, just barely missing her lips.

He knows what he’s doing

“Than—Thank you,” Not only can Luna barely breathe, but apparently she could barely speak. Stumbling over her words once again like an idiot.

Qimir’s smiles grows, his control slipping completely out of his grasp due to her innocent stuttering. The wide gaze of her almondy eyes that sent him down a spiral and without hesitation he kisses her.

Their lips crashed into each other that the waves did in the distance to the rock shore. The feeling of Qimir’s lips on Luna made her lightheaded as he kiss with such vigor and experience. His hands gripping the back of her neck, keeping her in place as if she was trying to escape. Kissing him was a feeling like no other, a feeling she didn’t know she was missing out from all this time. The way his free hand caressed her body under the water, completely avoiding the places she deeply craved that he touch out of respect. The way he nibbled at her juicy lips and then licked them to soothe the pain. Luna was already fully at his mercy.

Qimir’s now busy hands, allowed for Luna’s hip to float freely in the water, which of course gravitates towards his body leaving no space inbetween. Their bodies clashed together, similar to their lips. Luna’s breast pressed tightly on Qimir’s brute pecs as she wraps her arms around his neck. Qimir’s cock know fully laid flat against her soft stomach, heat radiating off of him like a furnace.

The horny woman gasps at the feeling of his length on her, daring not to glance down to see just how big he really was. Instead using the sense of touch the feel how his base started at the top of her mound and the tip ended well above her belly button.

of course he’s big. i mean look at him. look at those arms.

His hands travel down the length of her back resting on the rounding of her ass as he grabs a handful with no warning. All while still devouring her stunning face.

Loud moans overtake what once was a quiet, relaxing evening as Luna’s body is sent into overdrive. Her skin burned as if gasoline was poured on her and she was sent to the sun. Her mind was foggy like and early morning in the forest, forced to only think about Qimir. She ached for him. She wanted him.

Luna breaks the kiss to flip around back to the position they started in. Qimir stands there partially upset at her abrupt ending of their make out sesh, but that quickly subsided when her plump ass push perfectly against his dick. A deep groan leaving his pink lips to let her know as such. He has the desire to insert himself from behind, taking her passionately in the water. But before he has the chance to, Luna grabs both of his hands, placing one of her full breast and the other on her throbbing mound.

Qimir’s eyes widened at the girl’s assertion, surprised that she had this confidence in her because the blabbering girl she was earlier didn’t show that one bit. His shock, however, faded away quickly, being replaced by determination. She had officially given him permission to touch her intimates. To fully please her. To claim her.

Qimir’s finger begin to work on the bundle of nerves down south. His middle finger drawing precise, agonizingly slow circles around her clit. Her knees buckle at his action, but it brought back up with a squeeze of her nipple.

“This is what you wanted pretty girl? For me to touch you like this?,” His teasing words makes her grind into his pleasing hand. She was already so close. So close to relieving all the aching she felt. Starting from the ache of her mother’s health, to the literal ache of her ankle, to the ache between her legs caused by a stranger she just met yesterday.

what am i doing? A doubting thought rushes through her head.

“You’re relaxing. Let me help you,” Qimir’s voices breaks through, answering her question once again. Her eyebrows furrow in wonder, mind completely unfocusing from the magical work going on under the water.

okay, once was a coincidence, but twice now? Something is up—

Luna’s thoughts were cut off abruptly by Qimir’s finger entering the hole that was already begging to be filled. He took his time inserting one finger, unsure of how far she was willing to take this and the amount of experience she had. A pleased squeal that escaped her lips give him reassurance as he continues to pump in and out, now using his thumb to rub her clit.

A knot formed in her stomach that was getting ready to snap, her precious moans growing louder and more frequent. Hands reaching to grab Qimir’s bulging biceps for balance.

“Q—Qimir. I can—i can’t. I’m cumming,” Luna buckles as an orgasm rips through her, tears running down her eyes, but this time not in sorrow. Her shaken body grows limp by the second, the grip she had on Qimir still lingered but very weak.

Their chests heave in unison, reeling from the events that had just occurred. Luna, finally able to catch her breath, stands dazed in the water with Qimir still wrapped around her. His single digit still inside of her warm cunt.

He didnt move. Still recovering from the hearing her angelic, heavenly moans. From how she placed his hands on her warm cunt and how she quivered under his touch. From the warm feeling of her wrapped around his finger, how he wanted nothing more than to feel her tightly hugging his cock that still throbbed for her.

The girl leaned her head back, resting gently on his chest with her eyes closed, her long eyelashes touching the top of her apple cheeks. She was in complete bliss and Qimir observes this, taking in the new glow this girl possessed. His heart swells knowing that he completed his task. He made her relax. He eased her mind.

Qimir slowly removes his lonely finger from her womanhood, afraid to disturb her from this pure state and lifts her up bridal style. A shocked sound leaves her as her body was now fully out the water, exposed to the breezy air, but Qimir pays no mind. His eyes stay trained on hers as he walks them towards the shore, neither of them speaking a word, a comfortable silence fillings the air as he wades through the water.

The couple finally reach the shore to which he gracefully places Luna down, avoiding her hurt foot. The sun was near set, golden hour doing its work on the gorgeous man that stood in front of her. The water no longer a barrier, his sculpted body was now in full display, the orange sun defining every shadow of his abs, the veins of his arms and the monsterous size of his dick.

that was what was underneath the water?!

The flutters start to make a return, but are quickly pushed to the side.

don’t get greedy now. this was just a one time thing. he probably only did it out of sympathy anyway.

Qimir reaches behind him, grabbing a cream robe that was laid out neatly on a nearing boulder. He opens the linen fabric towards Luna’s direction, offering to put it on for her. Her eyes meet his. The dark clouds that once lived in his irises vanished, replaced with a genuine softness that makes her feel…safe.

She turns around accepting his offer and he slides the thin material over her arms, bringing it to hang at her shoulders. His fingers tickling her skin the entire time, His breath lingering at her neck.

Luna takes over the finishing touches of tying the robe and in the meantime, Qimir wraps himself in one of his own. They both matched. Except one was perfectly fitted, tailored made and the other one extremely oversized. The sleeves ended way past her hands and then hemmed end nearly went over her knees. She looked like a nun.

Luna turns around to face Qimir with a smile and a funky pose, modeling the unique fitting robe. A laugh brewing in his chest at seeing how his clothes swallowed her whole. A laugh that is stifled, offering a humorous smile instead.

“Okay, let’s get you inside. I can hear your stomach growling,” Qimir shakes his head at the girl as he wraps him muscular arm around her waist to help her back into the cave.

episode iv