#this is getting long so I'll cap it here but. thank you so much for asking. i love these boys and i love talking about them!!

[zalayni]

𓂃 💫 ੭ ᝢ SUGAR ༉

spendin' all my nights alone waiting for you to call me. you're the only one I want by my side when I fall asleep 💤

❛ pairing: earth42!miles x reader

❛ summary: after a long day there's nothing better than having your lover help you as you do your night time routine, no matter how girly it might be.

❛ warnings: the lower caps are intended. reader uses she/her pronouns.

❛ author's note: this is supposed to be longer but I lost everything and had to restart it from scratch. also this isn't proofread what so ever. I live like a warrior i'll die like a warrior 🫡🫡(I'm too lazy to read alat)

if anybody told Miles from when he was new to being prowler that he would be sitting in his room, wiping a girls makeup off specifically HIS girls makeup off he'd just tell them. “man you're buggin.”

yet here he was.

after a long day of standing around with music blasting in your ear while people laughed in the background you were finally back alone with Miles. it was silent but at the same time it was comforting. Miles was there kneeling infront of you, wiping your makeup off as you sat on the vanity chair he had bought and installed in his room along with the hello kitty mirror he saw people hyping up on tiktok.

don't get it mixed up though Miles would never use that vanity, he bought it for you. he filled up the drawers with makeup and products he'd see you use just for you. he did all of this because all he wished was for you to feel at home with him.

he went through the hard work of building and putting up the parts by himself as he was too embarrassed to ask uncle aaron or his mom for help. what would uncle aaron say if miles would randomly come in his home saying “help me build this pretty pink and white vanity I just bought.”

you always crashed at his place or miles would crash at yours. either way he always insisted on helping you with your nightly routine.

"all done Mami, now go wash up. I'll get your pajamas from the laundry." Miles attempted to get up before getting stopped by your hands pulling him down to peck his cheek. you pulled away while muttering a thank you.

Miles smirked at you while getting up.

"yeah, no problem. anything for my girl."

miles was the sweetest person to ever come into your life. who knew Brooklyn's number one killer would be such a lover boy? maybe it's because of the fact that he's always been a mamas boy growing up.

you finished up your shower, wrapping the towel around your body before a knock echoed through the bathroom. "ma, can I come in? I've got your pajamas." you quickly opened the door to see Miles standing there with your pink pajama set in his hands.

he stared at your figure watching as water droplets still slowly rolled down your body.

"Morales you're staring at me." you playfully said while side eyeing before taking the clothes out of his hands. Miles huffed and grabbed you by the waist, pulling you closer silencing your giggles with a kiss.

"whatever ma you're trippin' I wasn't even staring you're just reading into it too much. even if I was can you blame me? I bagged such a pretty girlfriend."

Miles eyed you down once again before leaning close to your ear. "maybe even future wife."

ugh what a tease. yet everytime he did this you felt butterflies in your stomach.

he chuckled before exiting the bathroom leaving you there staring at his back, stunned. you shook it off with a laugh and got dressed so you could be back in his arms.

you brushed your teeth and did your skincare that Miles would always restock on. you felt bad as they were pricey but he would always insist on buying them for you.

you hanged the towel on the rack to dry and exited the bathroom, practically speed walking to Miles room. once you opened the door you were met with Miles laying comfortably on his bed with nothing but a pair of grey sweatpants on. He had his arms up with his phone in his hands scrolling on whatever socials he was checking up on.

you closed his bedroom door before crawling in between his arms, laying your head on his chest. Miles sighed and put down his phone, wrapping his arms around you. He pecked the top of your head making you look up at him. "long day?" you asked him making miles suck his teeth.

"tch. ma you were there with me, yes the function was fun but of course my mom had to make us stay till past midnight talking about some ‘hold on we'll leave after I'm done talking.’" you laughed at him mimicking his mom's voice whole repeating what she would keep saying during the function.

mrs morales loved you so she told Miles to invite you to their family's function as his date which you gladly said yes to.

the day was long and your feet might've ached from all the standing as every seat was taken up, your stomach might've hurt from all the aunties insisting on you to eat more but at the end of day you got to see Miles smile, and it wasn't because of you. for some that was the rarest sight to witness.

after the death of his dad Miles drifted away from everyone but here he was laughing and bickering with his favourite cousins. he was actually playing his favorite sport, basketball for once and laughing whenever he'd steal the ball from his cousins.

you witnessed Miles grow as a person and slowly pick up broken pieces. it was truly heart warming.

here you laid in the dead of night, ear on Miles chest hearing his soft heartbeat with your eyes closed. you were calm yet your head was racing with thoughts. you decided to break the silence after awhile of listening to his breathing pattern and heartbeats. "hey Miles, I'm not sure if you're asleep but I have a question."

it was silent for awhile making you think Miles fell asleep before you could ask it but then he answered. "go ahead Mami, I'm listening."

"would you give the world to me?" you looked up at him only to see his half lidded eyes staring down at you. "mhmm no."

your heart dropped at his answer, lips close to quivering, but the hard beating of your heart slamming against your chest was calmed down with what you heard him say afterwards.

"hermosa, why would I do that when there's other planets too?"

﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌

please do not steal, copy, translate or put my work on any other apps. thank you for reading 🫶

artwork in header made by koscribbls on instagram

[sturniqlo]

PAYMENT IN KISSES- CHRIS STURN

summary: where y/n has trouble painting her left hand and chris comes to the rescue. short blurb

cw: a bit of cursing, FLUFF

an: WOAHH thank you guys so much for 1.4K!! here's a little something i cooked up💋

masterlist | join my taglist

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

"Ugh!" Y/n groans on the bed, wiping away the nail polish that smeared outside her nail. She looks at her right hand and the painting was horrible, she always had trouble painting her right with her left. She capped her light pink nail polish and placed it on Chris' nightstand.

She pours some nail polish remover onto a cotton pad and wipes off the polish off her right hand nails. Sighing, she grabs her phone and scrolls on her phone for a while.

"Chris, baby. I'm bored." She comes up behind him and wraps her arms around his neck. "Hi, babe. You finished painting your nails?" He takes his headset off and looks down at her painted left hand, then to her bare right one. "What happened to this one?" Chris grabs her right hand and turns to face her. "I couldn't paint it nicely, it ended up messy so I took it off." She shrugged.

"Want me to paint it for you?" He stares at her lips that wore his favorite lipstick of hers. A bright shade of dark pink. "You would do that for me?" She gasps. "Of course! C'mon let's go." He lets go of her hand and turns off his computer. Y/n walks to his bed and grabs the light pink polish and plops on his bed.

"Let me see that." Chris sits in front of her and grabs the small bottle from her. "Your hand, please." He brings his palm out. Y/n giggles and places her hand into his palm. "Thank you, beautiful." He kisses her knuckles and puts her hand on his knee so he can open the nail polish. "Here, I'll hold it." Y/n holds out her free hand to hold the bottle while Chris has a hold of the wand.

"Welcome to Chris' nail salon." He puts on a serious voice. Y/n only giggles. "You are my very first customer," Chris swipes the polish filled bristles "And might I say, you are very pretty." He smiles, breaking character. "You're so silly, babe."

On the third nail, they were both in a random conversation. "When're you filming again?" She brings the bottle to him so he can re-dip the brush. "Sunday, we're filming a car video. Oh- that reminds me," He goes to paint her nail, and Y/n waits for his answer. "What does it remind you of?" She giggles.

"Shit, sorry." He laughs. "Me, Nick and Matt want you to film another video with us, if you're up for it." Y/n had filmed about three videos with them and she's made an appearance in some of their vlogs here and there. "Sure, I'll film another video with you guys- just as long as it's not a baking challenge. You guys are crazy when filming those."

Chris smiles. "I promise you it's not. It's a parent challenge." Y/n furrows her eyebrows. "Where are you guys going to get a baby?" He laughs again. "No, not with a real baby. With eggs, if we break it we lose." "Ohh!" She says. "M' almost done here." He paints her pinky. "You're quick with it, babe."

He smirks, "Don't even think about it, you animal." Y/n already knew that he was going to make a dirty joke out of it. "Okay, okay. I won't, but it would've been a good one."

"Thank you, so much Mr. Chris." She looks at her perfectly painted left hand. "You are very welcome." He says, placing the little bottle back on the nightstand. "How can I ever pay you?" Y/n giggles. "You can pay me with lots of face kisses. I want your lipstick marks all over me." He throws himself down on the bed and brings her along. "Chris!" She giggles and starts kissing him all over his face. "I just love you so so much!" He mumbles through a kiss. She gasps. "My nails." She frowns but smiles when she sees Chris' face covered in her lipstick marks."

"Looks like I'll have to repaint it. You can just give me my next payment now." He brings her lips back to his face.

[roosterforme]

The Younger Kind Part 63 | Rooster x Reader

Summary: The arrival of the fourth member of the royal family means that Noah gets to meet his little sister. He has a lot to teach her, and he's planning on starting today.

Warnings: fluff, new baby, hospital, age gap (18+)

Length: 1200 words

Pairing: Single dad!Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x babysitter!female reader

Check out my masterlist for more! The Younger Kind masterlist.

Several months later....

You were exhausted, and everything still hurt a little bit. The best word to describe the night of sleep you just had was restless. There were nurses in and out of your room all night long, and the harsh fluorescent lights were enough to wake you up at odd times and make you wish you were at home. You could hear the faint sound of babies crying as your husband, who had curled his large body up and spent the night in the arm chair, leaned down to kiss your forehead.

"I'll go pick up Noah and bring him back to meet his sister. You want me to get you some coffee?" he whispered, letting the baby doze in the bassinet next to your bed.

"Please," you told him, tipping your head back so he could kiss you. His lips were always perfect, but there was a reverence in his touch today that left you a little breathless. 

His fingers brushed your cheek and trailed down your neck before he stood tall and paused to look at your daughter who was the most precious, tiny thing you had ever seen. Bradley's smile grew and grew as he leaned a little closer to her and adjusted the pink pacifier in her mouth. "I'll be back with your brother," he told her, and then with one more kiss pressed to your forehead, he made his way out of the room to get Noah from Penny's house.

You sighed and stretched out in the bed, letting your gaze skim the placard that was affixed to the bassinet.

Noelle Bradshaw

Born: April 22nd

Length: 19 inches

Weight: 6 pounds, 14 ounces

"I love you." Your whisper was soft, but you watched her squirm a little bit in response. Part of you wanted her to wake up again so you could hold her, but you knew that she was probably as tired as you were. The Christmas theme of her name would always make you and Bradley smile, and you fell in love with it as soon as he first mentioned it to you. The theme for her nursery was purple watercolor flowers, but you made sure there was a pretty green pine tree painted on the back of her door. 

You felt yourself starting to doze while you waited for your boys to come back, and just as you heard Noelle start to stir, the door opened slowly. "Mommy!" Noah called out, running right past the bassinet and his sister with a gift bag in his hand. He climbed up onto the bed near your feet as Bradley shut the door behind him with a coffee cup in his hand. 

"Be careful, Bub. Mommy is really tired," he said softly, but you already had Noah snuggled up at your side, and he was pulling a mug from inside the bag.

"Me and Daddy got you this for your coffee, but you can still use the other ones at home, too."

"Thank you, sweet Noah," you told him, kissing his head as you read the purple mug which said Noah and Noelle's Mommy. "It's perfect. Are you ready to meet her?"

"Of course," he said with a casual shrug, but when Bradley scooped up the wriggling newborn, Noah's eyes lit up. "She's so little."

You watched as Bradley held her close, his nose bumping her much smaller one playfully as he whispered her name. She really was so little. Even the pink cap on her head was dwarfed by his hand as he cradled her and kept her safe. You sipped your French vanilla coffee and ruffled Noah's hair as Bradley said, "Little Duchess Noelle," while he knelt next to the bed with her in his arms. "Meet your big brother, Prince Noah." 

Your son was so gentle as he reached for his sister, it made you gasp as tears filled your eyes. He'd been waiting months, asking about her every day, and now his tiny best friend was here. You watched as she pulled her hand free from her swaddle and reached out to him.

"Hi," Noah whispered, and sure enough her little fingers wrapped around his thumb, and he watched in wonder as she yawned. "Hi, Noelle."

"I think she loves you the most," Bradley said with a grin in your direction. "I'm just a peasant, obsessed with my royal family."

You shook your head before you leaned closer to him. "You're a Daddy in shining armor."

He kissed you while he laughed and held his daughter in one strong arm. He laced his fingers with yours and asked Noah, "Are you going to teach her everything you know?"

"Everything," he said, poking at her arm as she smiled at him.

"Like what?" you asked, taking another sip of your coffee.

Noah thought it through for a few seconds before he said, "Like how Daddy's not really allowed to cook anything. And what kind of snacks are the best."

Bradley groaned as you giggled. "Those are some important life lessons," you agreed. "What else?"

"Well I'll have to teach her how to feed Skittles and where all the stuff is at home."

"Yeah, Bub. You've got a lot of work ahead of you. Think you can handle it?" 

Noah was nodding as Noelle reached for his cheek while she yawned again. "Can we all go home soon?" he asked. "I really do have a lot to show her."

You and Bradley had to hold back your laughter, but you managed to say, "Hopefully we can all go home later today. But until we do, I packed you some coloring books to work on. Want to do one with Daddy while I feed Noelle?"

The four of you all ended up in the hospital bed together for a few hours. Noah worked his way through most of his books, and Noelle fell asleep again. Bradley got you anything you needed, and when it was finally time to go home, he was in full dad-mode. You watched the way he got both kids and then you situated in the Bronco. He double checked to make sure everyone was buckled in before he pulled away.

"I'll take care of everything for the next few days," he whispered as he reached for your hand. "You can rest and feed Noelle, and I'll take care of everything else."

"And then we can take care of everything together," you promised.

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

The end!

This family of four has been so much fun to write about! Thank you for joining me on this long journey! Thanks for sharing your thoughts and ideas along the way. Who knows...maybe we will see them again! Big thanks to @beyondthesefourwalls

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[whocaresstillthelouvre]

This Must Be The Place

Dieter Bravo x Female Reader

Rating: Explicit. 18+ (Minors DNI) Summary: Dieter's finally back home... with you. Warnings: pov switching, fluff, smut, dieter's thinking about his future, mirror sex, drug and party lifestyle memories, Words: 4,450

A/N: Shout out to the two songs "This Must Be The Place" by Talking Heads and "River" by Leon Bridges for helping me write this chapter. I listened to "River" on repeat while writing the reunion smut, sooooo enjoy! Thank you to @devineconjuring for eating my dots and rewording my weird sentences to actually make sense. She is so smart and wonderful, may you all have a dot eater in your life.

Previous Chapter Golden Girl Masterlist Masterlist ✨✨✨

A cavalcade of boxes and bags sits in the guest room of Dieter’s suite. They've been there since you left–Dieter’s barely able to look inside. The memories of you being here with him make his heart ache in a way he’s never felt before.

But now, he’s standing amongst the slight chaos with his assistant, finding it funny that what used to be empty bottles and drug paraphernalia after a wild party is now Liberty of London bags and Harrods boxes.

“So, all of this needs to be shipped back to Los Angeles?” Court surveys.

“Yep, every single one.”

Court sighs. “This is going to cost a lot, Mr. Bravo. The customs paperwork alone is going to take me a whole day.”

“I’d trust nobody else.”

Court shakes her head, surely used to his extravagant requests by now. “I’m happy for you, Bravo.”

"Thanks, Court. She's something special."

Court raises an eyebrow. "I can see that. You've never gone this overboard for anyone before."

"She deserves it all. And more."

Court nods, already tapping away on her tablet. "I'll get it sorted.”

“Thank yoooou,” Dieter sing-songs as he heads to his room, excited to pack his carry-on. Two more hours until he leaves for the airport.

He walks out onto the balcony. This is where he confessed his love to you, where it all changed. He leans against the railing, taking in the sight of London as he remembers the smile that lit your face when you told him you loved him back. He misses you so much that his heart pounds against his chest when he realizes that in less than 24 hours, he’ll be with you again.

He’s barely been able to talk to you between your busy days working at the flower shop and his long days on set, followed by wrap parties and press interviews. He has never missed anyone as much as he misses you. He almost sheds a tear when he realizes just how lonely he feels without you.

“God, I’m pathetic,” he mutters to himself. Three weeks apart, and he’s acting like a character from one of his rom-coms. Ironic.

He escapes the chilly London air–something he will definitely not miss–inside the bedroom he’s called his for four months.

He really is going to miss this suite–in fact, it might just be one of his favorite places on this earth. It’s where he got the girl of his dreams, where he made love to you for the first time, where he proved to you he will protect you.

Though, ever since you left, the bed has felt colder, the mattress more uncomfortable, the blanket much scratchier. Most nights, he falls asleep staring at your lotion bottle that he has yet to move off the bedside table. On some nights, when he’s feeling extra forlorn, he’ll pop open the cap and smell the sweet scent of you.

He sits on the edge of the bed, reaching for the lotion and taking a deep whiff of it. He remembers the way it smells on your skin, the slight floral taste of it as he’d nibble against your neck, how smooth your hands would be as you wrapped one around his cock.

Focus, man.

He really needs to pack.

—-

You’ve been spending all your free time at Bloom, working later than Angela asks you to, only to pass the time until Dieter returns home. Angela doesn’t mind, of course; she welcomes your company and your creations. It only took two days of you working there for her to bring you on as a full-time employee and showcase one of your bouquets in the front window. You feel like life is too good to be true–as if all it took was being brave and stepping out of Warren’s shadow, yet you still feel as if that shadow is following too closely behind.

“You’re doing it again,” Angela says, leaning against the workbench and handing you a cup of tea.

“Hm?” you ask while arranging white peonies amongst sprigs of eucalyptus and fern leaves.

“That face like you’re waiting for the world to end.”

You force a smile. “Just concentrating.”

Angela gives you a knowing look. “He’s coming back tomorrow, right? The boyfriend?”

“Yeah.” The word comes out breathier than you intended. You’ve been careful not to talk about Dieter much while at work, not sure how to let someone who helped you create the centerpieces for your own wedding know that your boyfriend is indeed a celebrity.

“Well, that explains why you’ve been arranging the same bouquet for twenty minutes.”

“Sorry,” you apologize. “Don’t be,” Angela waves away your apology. “Love looks good on you. I just wish you’d stop waiting for the other shoe to drop.”

You sigh, setting down the last few peonies. You have been trying to make them perfect, just like you feel you’ve been trying to make every corner of your life perfect before Dieter returns.

“I just turned the closed sign. Want to talk about it?” she offers, sitting atop a stool. “We can clean up after.”

“It’s just… everything’s happening so fast. Four months ago, I was suffocating in a marriage and miserable, and now I’m…” You trail off, unsure how to even describe the whirlwind your life has been the past month since you left for London.

Angela’s lips lift in a knowing smile. “Happy?” she offers.

“Terrified,” you correct her, with a matching smile. “But happy, too.”

Angela pats your hand. “That’s how you know it’s real. The good kind.”

You and Angela close the shop together, and just as you button up your cardigan and sling your bag on your shoulder, Angela grabs your hand with a wide smile on her face.

“I don’t want to see you here this weekend. Enjoy your boyfriend.”

You don’t know if your walk home up the hill is getting easier because you’re getting used to it or because this is your final walk home before Dieter returns.

—-

His bags are packed, the suite is empty. He makes his way through the rooms, mentally checking off the simple to-do list he has in his head. He’s about to grab his carry-on and let Court know he’s ready until he remembers the safe in the guest room closet.

“You idiot,” he whispers, dashing towards the room.

He inputs the code–your birthday–and pulls the small velvet box out. He flips it open, the diamond sparkling even in the low light of the closet. Too soon, probably. Definitely too soon by normal standards. But nothing about Dieter Bravo is normal.

Hell, as soon as he dropped you off at the airport, he scheduled an appointment at Garrard Jewelers. And now, a future with you is held in his hands. If he could, he would have married you before you even left London, but he knows you’re not ready. Dieter Bravo is not a patient man, but he’ll wait forever for you.

—-

You have to physically stop yourself from tracking Dieter’s flight. He’s finally past the Atlantic Ocean, somewhere over the Midwest. Four hours until he lands. You can do this; you can be patient.

You pace around your living room, trying to distract yourself with chores that don’t need doing. The kitchen is already spotless, all the beds are made with perfectly fluffed pillows, and you’ve rearranged the flowers you brought home from Bloom three times.

The book you’ve been meaning to read is far less exciting than hitting refresh on the flight tracking app. The movie you’ve been wanting to watch just doesn’t seem to have a plot you can sink into. The puzzle you think about doing has too many pieces.

You have to do something about the nervous energy, so you decide to bake. You keep your phone in the other room and put your favorite playlist on high, willing the attitude of ignorance-is-bliss to work as you pull your mixer out of the cabinet.

By the time you’re done and the kitchen is all cleaned, you have three dozen chocolate chip cookies, a tray of brownies, and Dieter’s favorite: two dozen jalapeño cheddar biscuits.

You reward yourself with a peek at your phone. He’s only an hour away from landing.

—-

Dieter wonders if he looks just as happy as he feels right now as he strides out the door of the private terminal at LAX.

He breathes in the smell of the warm sun, palm trees, and car exhaust. Home. A smile grows on his face. So many times, he’s flown into this airport, exhausted from a shoot, dreading the empty house and people who waited for him. But now… now, everything is different.

His favorite driver, Bill, waits for him at the curb.

“Welcome back, Mr. Bravo.”

“Bill!” Dieter claps him on the shoulder as he hands him his carry-on. “Beautiful day, isn’t it?”

Bill laughs. “Same weather as every other day in LA, sir.”

“Touché.” Sure, it’s the typical late-January Los Angeles weather of high 60s and sun, but today is different. Today feels more golden.

He slides across the supple leather seats of the black SUV. Court has already called ahead and rerouted the car to your house. He takes his phone out and inputs your address so he can watch the minutes tick by.

After years of yearning for you, months of getting to know you better than anybody else, and days of having you as his own, he’s now only 30 minutes away from you. 

Soon, he’s on the 405, his heart beating faster against his chest as the thin line on the map grows smaller. He takes a deep breath as Bill takes your exit. The little box reads that he’s only 5 minutes away. He passes Bloom, his smile turning proud as he thinks about you working inside that store, surrounded by flowers just as pretty as you.

The hill that leads to your house seems to stretch and twist endlessly. Two minutes.

He passes the grass patch where he wanted to tell you he loved you all those months ago as you stared up at the stars. One minute.

And then, he sees your house. He sees you.

—-

You’ve been standing on your front step for twenty minutes at this point. Nobody really drives all the way up the hill besides you and your neighbor.

Your anxiety is through the roof, but it’s the good type, the type when your favorite singer is about to walk out on stage, the kind that causes butterflies to soar across your belly, that makes music sound more beautiful, that makes the sun shine brighter.

A large black SUV crests the hill–you expect it’s Dieter’s… and your expectations are realized when the back door swings open even before it comes to a complete stop.

Dieter barrels out, stumbling to catch his balance with a wide smile on his face as he throws open the gate and runs down the walkway toward you.

You’re swept up into his strong arms, your feet leaving the ground as he spins you in a circle. “Baby,” he breathes you in as he sets you down, his hands cupping your face.

“Hi,” you whisper as his dark brown eyes gaze lovingly into yours.

“Hi,” he whispers. He gives you the crooked, vulnerable, eye-crinkling smile that drives his fans wild. But right now, it’s all for you.

“Welcome home.”

“Home,” he smiles, “I like that.” He drapes an arm around your waist and leads you inside before he cocks his head back. “Bill! Just put my bags in the foyer. I’ll take care of the rest.”

—-

The last time Dieter was in your home, the walls and shelves were still filled with photos of you and Warren, the shoe caddy by the door still had loafers and flawless designer sneakers, and it felt like the ghost of your failed marriage was everywhere. Now, as he steps into your home, it’s all you.

The walls are now adorned with framed botanical prints and paintings. Warren’s favorite plaid chair has been replaced by a soft chair covered in floral fabric. The shoe rack now holds only your comfortable sneakers and flats, with an empty space ready to be filled… hopefully by his Crocs.

“Looks good in here,” he says.

“Just making it mine,” you shrug.

He pulls you close after Bill drops his luggage off and closes the door.

“It’s perfect,” he murmurs as he leans in close, finally kissing you, melting away the three weeks of separation. He can’t stop touching you, running his hand along the curve of your spine, his other hand sliding into your hair, cradling the back of your head, pushing your lips firmer against his.

He pulls away, staring into your eyes. “God, I missed you,” he whispers, pressing his forehead against yours. “I thought I was going to lose my mind.”

“Me too,” you admit, your fingers tracing his jaw.

He kisses you again, trying to relearn the shape of your lips, slowly, reverently, trying to savor you. But something shifts within you, and you kiss him desperately. Your fingers curling into the soft cotton of his t-shirt, pulling him closer with a slight moan escaping your lips and rumbling against his. His hand slides down to your waist, gripping you firmly as he walks backward to the couch and tumbles down, taking you along for the ride.

You land on top of him with a soft oomph, followed by both of you giggling as his hands steady you on his lap. Your laughter fades when you look down at him, his intense eyes roaming your face, his mouth agape as he takes you in.

“I still can’t believe how lucky I am,” he muses, brushing his finger back and forth across your cheek.

“Would you feel luckier to know I baked for you?”

His eyes crinkle at the corners as he gifts you a wide smile. “You baked for me?”

“Mmhmm,” you answer, pressing your lips to his ear. “Jalapeño cheddar biscuits,” each word whispered between a kiss.

“God, I love you,” he says. His hands slide up your thighs. “But you know what I’m really hungry for?”

Before you can answer, he flips you onto your back, his weight pressing you into the couch cushions. You gasp, arching into him as his teeth graze against your pulse point. “You,” he breathes against you.

“Oh my god,” you roll your eyes and sigh before letting out a moan as his knee parts your thighs and presses against your aching core.

“Three weeks,” he whispers against your lips. “Three fucking long weeks of only wanting this.”

Your fingers tangle in the loose, soft curls of his hair while his rough stubble grazes against your skin as he moves to kiss the sensitive spot against your jaw.

“I can’t believe you’re home,” you moan as his hips begin a slow grind down against yours.

“Home,” he hums, his dark eyes locked on yours as he props himself up. His hand sliding beneath the hem of your shirt, his warm palm trailing under your bralette before cupping your breast.

“Fuck,” you moan. He watches you react to his touch, dark eyes overwhelmed with lust as his thumb brushes over your nipple. His lips find yours again, tongue diving in between them. 

You’ve thought about this moment, about how you’d have him, where you’d want him once he returned to the house you once shared with your husband. You want to feel loved again in your bedroom, you want to feel wanted again in your bedroom–you want Dieter in your bedroom.

“Dee,” you murmur against his mouth before pulling away, his lips trying to chase yours. “Bedroom.”

You feel his body tense, obvious he’s been thinking the same thing. He lifts his head, staring into your eyes. “Are you sure?”

“I want you in my bed.”

He doesn’t think twice, quickly standing before grabbing your hands and pulling you up. He pulls you close, kissing you tenderly before resting his forehead against yours. “Lead the way, Sweets.”

The path up the stairs to your bedroom feels different with Dieter’s hand in yours, his footsteps echoing behind yours. The light shining into the hallway, where now-naked nailheads wait for new framed photos, seems brighter as you imagine photos of you and Dieter lining the walls.

When you walk through your bedroom doorway, your steps falter. Suddenly, the significance of this moment hits you. For years, this room had been a place of obligation, of settling, of giving up on wanting to be understood.

It’s different now as Dieter wraps his arms around your waist, resting his head on your shoulder.

“You okay?” he softly whispers into your ear.

You look into the large mirror propped against the wall and nod. Seeing Dieter’s arms wrapped around you, his eyes on yours, makes all the pain you’ve endured in this lonely room dissipate. “I am,” a slight smile lifts your lips. “I love you.”

He hmphs a happy sound, grinning wide. “I love you, baby.”

You watch as his hand slips under your shirt, slowly raising it to lift over your head. The soft, gray cotton drops from his hand as he watches you unhook the front clasp of your bralette, letting it fall away and land on top of your shirt.

The afternoon light filters through the curtains, casting golden colors across your bedroom. Dieter’s brown eyes turn caramel as he follows the trail of his hands up your torso to your breasts, cupping them in his hold.

Your head thuds against his chest as his thumbs brush against the hardened peaks of your nipples. You can feel the cadence of his deep breaths against your back as your hands meet his cupping your breasts, feeling the veins of his strong hand as he massages you gently.

“I love how you feel,” he whispers. “I knew your skin would be so soft, so perfect.”

One of his hands slides down your stomach, his fingers splaying wide against your skin, your hand following his.

"Look at us," he encourages, his eyes focusing on yours in the mirror. "Look how beautiful you are."

The reflection of the two of you shining in the golden light–his broad body behind yours, one of his hands over your heart, one against your stomach–makes your heart almost ache. You’ve never known love like this.

“It’s always been you,” he confesses, his lips against the shell of your ear. “I never wanted anybody the way I wanted you. Never needed someone the way I needed you.”

His tongue charts a path down to your neck before leaving an open-mouthed kiss against it. He rests his head on your shoulder, staring deeply into your eyes.

“You’ve changed everything. Every part of my life is better now because I have you like this. All that time I was away, knowing that you were here, waiting for me…” He swallows hard. “Knowing you missed me just as much I missed you… knowing I had something to come home to. Someone to come home to.”

“Dee,” you whisper. “I’m so happy you’re home with me.”

“Home,” he hums lowly. “With you.”

His hand against your stomach pulls you even tighter against him, his eyes never leaving your reflection.

You push forward slightly before reaching down to unbutton your shorts, slowly shimmying out of them and kicking them to the side.

You can hear him let out a shaky sigh when you look into his eyes as your fingers curl around the waistband of your panties and pull them down. You step out of them, kicking them to the side as Dieter lets out an incredulous chuckle.

“Holy fuck, you’re so beautiful, Sweets,” he sighs. “Absolutely perfect.”

His hands splay wide over the bare expanse of your body, pulling you back to him, his mouth sealing against your shoulder.

You bring one of your hands up to tangle in his hair, feeling the soft waves. Your eyes are locked on each other’s reflections as you both sway back and forth.

“God, you’re gorgeous,” he whispers. “My beautiful, golden girl.”

You turn in his arms, lifting the hem of his soft t-shirt as you pull it up and over his head. You can’t resist him anymore; your hands begin exploring the newly exposed skin.

His hands slide down your back to grip your hips, pulling you flush against him. You can feel how much he wants you, hard and straining against the soft cotton of his pants.

You kiss your way across the freckles on his chest, twinkling in the sunlight.

“You’re so beautiful,” you whisper as you run your hand down his chest and across his stomach. “I still can’t believe you’re finally home.” “Home,” he groans as you begin to untie the drawstrings of his pants and yank them down. Dieter shuffles out of his pants, kicking them aside. He’s left in just his boxers that do very little to hide how much he wants you.

You arch an eyebrow as you reach forward, grasping his waistband in your hold.

You slowly lower his boxers, the fabric catching for a split second on his hard cock before springing free. His chest begins rising and falling with his quickening breath, his abs tensing as your fingers trail down his body. He steps out of the fabric pooled at his feet.

“Baby,” he groans as you trace the soft line of his belly, following the trail of soft hair until you reach his cock. Slowly, you wrap your hand around his hardening cock, eliciting a long, low moan when you gently squeeze him.

Spurred on by his desire for you, you begin to stroke him, gliding your hand up and down him. You can feel him growing harder with each pump of your first, his cock twitching against your touch. His breathing grows heavier, his eyes fluttering closed. You love seeing Dieter like this, naked and wanting you and only you. Wetness pools between your thighs as you twist your wrist and brush your thumb over his sensitive head.

His eyes fly open wide as your wrist twists his cock just right, making his knees buckle as a jolt is sent through him. His gaze drops to your hand wrapped around him, his lips parting as he’s overwhelmed.

He reaches his hand out, running it across your wet pussy, his fingers grazing against all of your wet that’s spilled out for him.

“Fuck, you’re so wet for me already,” he marvels as he parts your lips, gliding a finger along your slit.

“Always,” you breathe, the pace of your hand briefly faltering on Dieter’s cock as he slowly circles your clit. “I missed you so much.”

“I know, baby, I missed you. Missed this perfect pussy. Want to fuck your pussy.”

“Please,” you pant.

“Okay, baby, okay.” He spins you around to face the mirror, your eyes finding each other’s in the reflection as he presses his chest to your back. His hands smooth over your hips and stomach, goosebumps prickling in the wake.

“Look at you,” he whispers in awe. “So fucking beautiful.” A hand slides up to cup and knead your breast while the other trails down to your aching core. He parts your folds, spreading your wetness around before he lines himself up, rubbing the head of his cock against your lips. Slowly, he sinks himself into your tight heat inch by inch.

“Oh, fuck,” he groans once he’s sheathed inside your tight channel. “Baby, you feel incredible.”

“Dee,” you moan as he slowly rocks inside you. His hands move to grip your hips as he begins to fuck into you. You watch his reflection, his brows furrowed in concentration as he watches his cock disappear inside you over and over.

"Fuck, you’re taking my cock so well," he praises.

"God, I love you," he pants, his hot breath hitting your neck. "Love you so fucking much. Can't believe how lucky I am to have you, to be able to fuck your perfect pussy."

Dieter lifts one of your legs, opening you wider for him. You reach back, wrapping your arms around his neck for balance as you're practically hanging off of him, completely at his mercy as he pounds into your accepting cunt.

"Fuck, you’re gorgeous," he marvels, eyes locked on your reflection. “Can't believe I get to see you like this, all needy and desperate for my cock."

Your moans, his groans, and the sound of his cock fucking into your wet echoes off the walls of your bedroom. With every thrust of his hips, every grunt of praise against your ear, and every time his eyes reflect love into yours—this once lonely bedroom becomes something new—something wholly yours together.

"Fuck, you want my cum, don’t you?" he grits, his fingers digging into the meat of your thigh as his thrusts grow more erratic. "I promise I'm gonna fuck you slow later, take my time worshipping you. But right now, I need to feel this pussy squeeze the cum out of my cock. Been dreaming about this for weeks."

“Fill me up,” you beg shamelessly, completely lost in Dieter. You’re cunt is pulsing for him, squeezing him as you near your orgasm.

"Fuck, I can feel you getting tighter. Gonna make me cum so hard. Cum with me, baby. Want to feel this pussy milk my cock."

A few more deep, grinding thrusts have you both hurtling over the edge. Your body tightens, your lungs screaming Dieter’s name as your orgasm shines through you. As badly as you want to squeeze your eyes shut, you keep them open, watching the smile that lights Dieter’s face as he stares into your eyes through the mirror. Warmth spreads through your body as he cums inside you, his cock twitching as it spurts thick ropes of cum deep. He still moves, slowly fucking his cum into you as he kisses your shoulder, chanting how perfect you are.

You’re both a tangle of limbs, Dieter’s strong thighs and hands holding you up as you both try to catch your breath.

Your body shivers as he slowly pulls out, turning you around and pulling you into his hold, kissing you as he walks you backward until your legs hit the edge of the mattress. You both collapse onto the bed, his lips never leaving yours as his weight presses you into the mattress that once felt so cold and empty. Now, it feels like heaven.

“Welcome home,” you whisper.

“Home,” he sighs contentedly.

✨✨✨

Perma tagging: @schnarfer @mothandpidgeon @forspringcleaning Tagging some friends and lovers of GG (let me know if you'd like to be added or removed): @sawymredfox, @secretelephanttattoo, @galway-girlatwork, @whatumuhcallit, @chronically-ghosted @copperhalfcent, @jessthebaker, @moel-jiller, @sunnytuliptime, @jokesonthem @lotusbxtch, @mysterious-moonstruck-musings, @flawssy-227, @toomanystoriessolittletime, @littlemisspascal @cas-readsandwrites, @wave0fg00dvibes, @rulexofxnines, @tuquoquebrute, @littlevenicebitch69 @readingiskeepingmegoing, @marissa47, @amyispxnk, @peepawispunk, @ishabull @vibin-hippie, @noisynightmarepoetry, @titlee78, @bergamote-catsandbooks,

[miniwheat77]

Lies. (Captain Price x Reader.)

!SHORT FIC, nsfw, smut, price being a meanie, p in v sex, unprotected sex, pregnancy, MINORS DNI!

“Why don’t you have any kids Cap?” Ghost asks.

“Ah, old man’s been shooting blanks since his 20’s.” Gaz smirks. “Christ Garrick.” Price rolls his eyes. “He’s not wrong but.. I’m unable to have kids.” He sighs. “I’m sorry to hear.”

“It’s alright. After I broke up with my high school sweetheart, I didn’t want any.” He laughs. “Why not?”

“Terrible break up, didn’t want to go through it again.” He sighs. “Understandable.”

That's also what he told you when the two of you got too drunk at the bar. The entire task force had gone out drinking. Those are the words he whispered into your ear when you whined about him finishing inside of you.

Neither of you know how it happened, too much to drink. Shared glances. It led the both of you to being in the pub bathroom. Luckily the music was loud enough to conceal the sound of the two of you in the bathroom. You shouldn't have trusted him about it, but he was your Captain after all. You trusted him with your life.

He had a death grip in your hair, your face pressed up against the wall as he hammered his hips into yours. “Wait- you don’t have a condom on Captain.” You hiss. “I can’t have kids, just trust me.” He growls.

“Fuck!” You hiss. Tightening around him.

———

A few weeks later, you're approaching him. You've got the stick behind your back.

"Y/N? What can I do for you?" He asks. The two of you hadn't spoken about what happened that night. You'd kept it to yourselves and returned the professional relationship the two of you shared before.

“Just had a question. Are… are you sure you can’t have kids?” You’re standing in front of his desk. He's looking at his laptop on the other side. “Yeah. Why?”

“You’re completely sure?” You swallow hard.

“Yeah, the girlfriend I had in my 20’s made me get tested, opened the envelope herself.”

“Hm..” you mumble. “What’s going on?” He asks.

“I think she faked your results sir.”

“What? Why do you say that?” He puts his pen down, finally looking at you. “Because. You’re the only person I’ve slept with and I’m very pregnant.” You raise the pregnancy test. He freezes up. “What? Y/N… that’s not possible.” He sighs. “It clearly is. I haven’t slept with anyone else.”

He shakes his head. “Y/N. I don’t know why you’d lie about this. But it’s very out of character.” He sighs. Your eyes widen, you can't believe him. "You're joking. I'm not lying about this."

He shakes his head. "Excuse yourself from my office please." He sighs.

You can't believe this.

———

It's a few weeks later.

John decides to confide in Gaz about it. He talks to him about how he thinks it's best you're removed from his base and relieved of your duties on the task force, seeing as you're pregnant. Gaz approaches you and knocks at your door.

You answer it, seeing the look on his face.

"What's going on Gaz?" You ask.

He sighs. Pushing past you. "He... he told me about what happened. He sent me here to... tell you that he's taking you off the base."

"You've got to be kidding me."

"No.. sorry Y/N." He mumbles.

"Okay. Whatever. Nothing I can do to change it."

"Is it really his?" He asks. You look at him, bewildered that he'd even ask that. "Yes. It's his. I haven't been with anyone else in years, you know that Gaz. We were drunk and..." You trail off with a groan. "I can't believe him." You sit down on your bed. "Could always prove it to him with DNA." He shrugs. "I guess so but obviously he doesn't want this so I guess I'll figure things out on my own. Thanks for stopping by Gaz. How long?" You ask.

"He said he's starting the paperwork today. A month at most." He nods.

You turn your back to him and he feels bad. He doesn't know what to believe.

———

A couple weeks later, John is in the grocery store.

“John?”

He turns to look at her, he hasn’t seen her in years. Not since they’d split up in his 20’s.

“I almost didn’t recognize you.” She smiles. “Oh. Hey.” He nods.

“Still in the military I see.” She smiles. “Uh.. yep. Captain now.”

“Married? In a relationship?” She asks. “Oh uh.. it’s complicated.” He laughs. “Really.” She smiles. “I figured you’d be married with kids by now.” She laughs. He freezes. “Uh.. yeah."

Kids? Why would she say kids?

"I actually had a question I’ve been waiting to ask.” He throws the box of granola bars into his cart. “Did you fake that paperwork all those years ago?”

She laughs. “I did. Yes. I wasn’t ready for kids and didn’t know how to tell you.” She laughs. “You.. did know that. Right?”

“Yeah, course I did. I’ve got a baby on the way.” He mumbles. “On the way? Jesus.” She laughs. “Late.”

He nods. “Yeah. Very late.” He laughs. “I’ve.. I’ve actually got to get going.” He turns away. Leaving the cart behind.

He has a fucking baby on the way.

She thinks it’s weird, but John was always secretive.

When John is out of her sight, he’s in a full sprint to get to his truck.

He reaches the base, surprised by the fact that he doesn’t get pulled over on the way with how fast he’s going.

He gets inside, hurrying down hallways. Nearly running right into Gaz. "Captain? What's going on?" He asks. He takes a deep breath. Wiping his face. "I'm an idiot, that's what. I just ran into my ex-girlfriend and she told me she faked those results all those years ago and that fucking baby is mine. Do you know where Y/N is?" he asks. He's out of breath. "I think she's just getting ready to leave, Captain. Better hurry." He smiles. He watches him rush down the hallway to your room. A story he didn't expect he'd ever tell between the two of you.

He should knock but forgets completely, barging right into your room. A gasp leaves your lips and you scramble to cover yourself. “Shit! I- sorry.” He should cover his eyes but doesn't. Shutting the door behind himself. “Christ John! What are you doing?” You throw a shirt over your head, but not before John sees it. Your growing baby bump.

He feels like such an ass.

“Y/N…” he sighs. Before you even have a chance to put pants on, he’s closing the gap between you. He grasps your hand, forcing you back into the bed behind you. You sit down on the edge and he drops right to a knee. He kisses the back of your hand. “I owe you… the biggest apology.” He sighs. “What? What’s going on?” You try to stand but he doesn’t let you. “I.. I found out that she did fake it. That.. I can have kids.”

He clenches his eyes shut, holding your hand to his face. “And I am so sorry for how I’ve treated you.” He breathes.

You don't know what to say. You just look down to where he's got your hands. You still don't have pants on.

"You should be sorry." You breathe. "I'm leaving tonight, thanks for the apology."

"You can't leave. Not yet."

"You signed that paperwork. You can't take it back now."

He shakes his head. "Yes I can." He stands.

"Why would you? You don't want this." You look up at him.

"This is my fault. I'm the one who..."

You look up at him, a sly smile on your lips. "Who what?"

You cross your arms. He raises his eyebrows. Surprised smile on his face. "Oh it's like that?" He laughs. "I'm the one who told you I couldn't have kids and came inside you."

"Yeah. I trusted you and you treated me like shit and called me a liar. You were gonna take me off your base."

"I swear I thought you were lying, I believed her when I shouldn't have. That fucking... snake." He sits down next to you. Pulling you into him. "I'm sorry darling. I am so fucking sorry." He sighs. You rest your head on his shoulder. "I'll forgive you but you better make it up to me." You roll your eyes. He laughs. "Anything you want doll. Swear on it."

"For now uh.. can I put pants on?"

He laughs harder than he should. "Yes. You have my permission to put pants on."

You punch his shoulder playfully. "I know exactly what I want, too."

"Yeah, what's that?"

———

"This is really what you wanted?" Gaz looks at you, leaning forward from the middle seat where he sits in the back.

You look happy as a clam in the passenger seat of your Captains truck. Mouth full of fries.

"Mhm."

You've got a McDonalds bag in your lap, having convinced John to take the entire task force to get McDonalds.

"Christ you're adorable." Gaz laughs.

"Maybe he should get her pregnant more often, since we get stuff out of it." Soap laughs. He's holding a burger in the back seat next to Gaz and Ghost. Gaz sits between the two of them. "Agreed." Ghost laughs. He's got his mask pulled up just enough to eat his food.

John rolls his eyes in the drivers seat. "Christ. Didn't even need to physically be able to have kids to have them."

He raises his own fries to his mouth. Each of you laughing.

———

“Oh. Hey again John.” She smiles. It’s the same store, a different isle this time. He glances at you, seeing you approach. “Oh um.. is this… your niece?” She asks. “No. This is Y/N. My wife.”

Her eyes nearly bulge out of her head. “Jesus.. didn’t realize you liked them so young John.” She laughs. “This her?” You side eye her while looking at him. He nods his head. “What’s that supposed to mean?” She laughs nervously.

“Oh.. nothing. He just mentioned something about a woman he’d had a past with. Something really fucked up she did where she told him he couldn’t have kids and he believed it for the longest time. Is.. is that really you?” You scoff. “I.. I mean I’ve done some fucked up things but that… that takes the cake.” You laugh. “I.. I was young and stupid-“

“Yeah. I mean. I have to thank you, it really worked out. I mean. John can really lay it down.” You cross your arms with a smirk.

“He has kids you know.” She mumbles. “Yeah. With me. And he’s a great dad.” You smirk. Stepping to the side. She can see your little girl sitting up in the cart. She’s chewing fiercely at her dad’s jacket. “Well.. congratulations. I have to get going.” She turns away.

He smiles. He liked seeing your aggressive side.

The both of you make your way up to check out, pushing your daughter in the cart.

"You alright?" You ask him. "Mhm." He sighs. Wrapping a hand around your lower back, tugging you closer to him.

"I'm gonna fuck you so hard for that." He growls into your ear.

"Jesus!" You laugh.

[firewasabeast]

Hey CJ! Idk if you take prompts (I loved your most recent ficlet)

BUT any thoughts on how Buck and Tommy annoy each other (on purpose)??

ahhh thank you so much! I'm always taking prompts, it just sometimes takes me a while to get to them. here's a two-in-one fic for you!

Click. Click. Click. Click. Click click.

Click. Click. Click. Click. Click click.

Tommy looked over across the couch, where Buck was staring down at a crossword as he clicked his pen. Over and over.

“Do you need a new pen?” Tommy asked, keeping his tone calm and casual.

“Huh?” It took a second for Buck to register what he'd asked. “Oh, no. No, I'm good, thanks,” he said, glancing over at him with a smile.

Tommy returned the smile, then went back to reading his magazine.

Click click click clickclick click click.

Tommy took a long, deep breath.

Click click click click click click click click click.

“You sure?” He asked again, his voice going up an octave. “I have a whole drawer of them.”

And they're the kind with caps, he added to himself.

Buck shook his head. “Nope, this one works just fine.”

Click click click click click click. Click. Click. Click.

Click click click click clickclick-

Tommy closed the magazine and squeezed his eyes shut. “For the love of God, Evan, please stop.”

“Ha! So it does bother you!” Buck exclaimed, pointing the pen to Tommy with a triumphant look on his face.

“Does the endless pen clicking bother me? Yeah, maybe a little.”

Buck shook his head, relaxing further into the couch. “Finally.”

“Finally what?”

“I finally found something that makes Mr. Cool lose his cool.”

Tommy huffed out a laugh. “I did not lose my cool, thank you very much.”

“You looked like a pressure cooker that was about to explode.”

“So you were doing all of that just to annoy me?” Tommy asked, a playful glare on his face.

“After about the third click, yes.”

“And if I didn't stop you, you were what? Gonna click the entirety of We Will Rock You?”

Buck tilted his head, looking more impressed than anything now. “Y- You knew the song?”

“Of course I knew the song. Who wouldn't know that song?”

“I just didn't realize I was so talented. I could quit my job, begin a professional career as a click artist.”

Tommy opened his magazine back up, crossing one leg over the other. “I'd stick with firefighting if I were you.”

They were just settling back into a peaceful silence when:

Click click.

“Okay.” Tommy reached across the couch and pulled the pen out of Buck's hand before getting up and heading for the trash.

“Wait! No!” Buck exclaimed. “I just had to finish the line in the song. I was done.”

Tommy raised the lid to the garbage can and dropped the pen in it. “You can get another pen out of the drawer beside you. One with a cap,” he added quickly, “not a clicker.”

“You're no fun,” Buck teased, opening the drawer and grabbing another pen. “Oh, I see some clickers in here, Babe. I could do a rendition of Come Sail Away for you!”

Tommy walked back over to Buck, standing right in front of him on the couch. “I love you, Evan, but if you so much as touch another click pen I will leave.”

Buck snorted out a laugh, staring up at his boyfriend. “This is your house, Tommy!”

“I'll sign it over to you.”

Buck reached up and tugged on Tommy's shirt until he was hovering over him, one hand on the armrest and the other on the back of the couch. “Has anyone ever told you you're dramatic?” Buck asked, pulling Tommy in for a kiss.

“My drama teacher, third grade,” he replied with a nod. “Mrs. Collier.”

Buck gave Tommy one more kiss before letting him go. “I'll have to send her a note, tell her she was right.”

“Well, she was about seventy when I was in her class,” Tommy informed him, sitting back down in his seat, “so you'll have to search her address on Find a Grave.”

He resumed his magazine reading as Buck got back into his crossword...

Until about two minutes later, when Buck began drumming the new pen on his thigh. This time, he was seemingly completely unaware of what he was doing.

Tommy headed to bed early that night.

**********

The first time it happened, Buck was surprised, but he didn't say anything about it.

The second time, he laughed a bit, and when Tommy asked what was so funny he just shrugged and said he'd never seen anyone do that before.

The third time, he thought he might die.

“Did you, um, did you use a fork to scoop out the butter?” he asked, trying to sound as nonchalant as humanly possible.

Tommy breezed by, grabbing a drink out of the fridge on his way to the garage for a work out. “Yeah. Had toast this morning.” He gave Buck a pat on the ass before heading out the door.

Buck immediately pulled a knife out of a drawer and smoothed out the butter.

It shouldn't have been a big deal. Realistically, Buck knew that.

But there was something so jarring about opening a container of butter only to see that it was littered with stab wounds.

It felt wrong.

It felt like a crime.

The fourth time it happened, it was the day after he and Tommy had gotten into an argument. Nothing too serious, and they had made up by the time they went to bed.

But Tommy had made himself dinner that night and he'd decided on scrambled eggs.

Which meant he'd first put butter in the pan so the eggs wouldn't stick.

Buck didn't want to another fight right now, so he kept quiet and fixed the butter once again, then went about his day.

The fifth time it happened, Buck was ready to throw every fork in the house away. He could no longer remain silent on such a serious issue. It needed to be discussed, and it needed to be discussed now.

There was no better time, as Tommy was opening their mail at the dining room table while Buck started on dinner.

“Uh, Tommy?”

“Yeah, Babe?”

“We, um, I- I need to talk to you.”

Tommy looked up from the mail and over to where Buck stood in the kitchen. “Uh oh,” he said when he saw the look on Buck face. “You sound serious.”

“Yeah, I- it. It's the butter, Tommy. I- Most people use a knife when they're getting butter, but you're using a fork, and it makes the butter look all stabby and I've just been fixing it myself every time I see it, but I really don't understand why you can't use a knife, or even a spoon, ya know?” He was rambling, but once he started he couldn't seem to stop. “It looks so much better if you use a knife because then it keeps that smooth, buttery texture instead of looking like its been to war and-” he stopped when he noticed that Tommy was smiling at him. “What?” he asked.

“I knew you'd break eventually.”

“Wh- What do you mean?”

Tommy picked up a pen from the table, holding his arm out straight in front of him.

Click. Click. Click. Click. Click click.

When it hit him, Buck gasped, his eyes widening. “That was months ago!” he exclaimed. “We weren't even living together then!”

“And yet I've never forgotten,” Tommy replied, feeling a sense of vindication.

“You're diabolical.” He held the tub of butter out toward Tommy. “This could be considered a form of torture, you know?”

Tommy stood and walked over to Buck. “What would they call it? Butter-forking?” he asked, taking the tub from Buck and getting a knife from the drawer. He began smoothing the butter out himself, until it looked perfect on top. “Better?” he asked, showing Buck his work.

Buck turned his head to the side dramatically, staring out the kitchen window. “I don't know if we'll get past this.”

Tommy put the butter down, moving closer to Buck and placing his hands on his waist. “Could we try?” he asked. “I'd hate to tell the caterers we had to cancel the wedding on a count of me forking butter. Especially since it sounds shockingly close to doing something else with butter.”

Buck shuddered when he realized what Tommy meant. He looked up at him through his eyelashes. “Will you never destroy the sanctity of our butter with your fork ever again?”

“I will try my best,” Tommy promised. “As long as you continue to stay away from clickable pens.”

Buck sighed. “There goes the last chances of my career as a musical clicker,” he said with a pout, wrapping his arms around Tommy's shoulders.

“And there goes my career as a professional butter stabber,” Tommy replied, his hands tightening on Buck's waist as he got rid of his pout with a kiss.

[revasserium]

A request for Zayne with the prompt, "a note on public health" 🙏🫶☺️

send me one + a character and i'll write u a drabble (˶ᵔ ᵕ ᵔ˶)

32. a note on public health

zayne; 1,519 words; fluff, teeth-rotting fluff, fem!reader, no "y/n", zayne!branded humor, vague innuendos, established relationship

summary: a couple of public service announcements.

a/n: zayne cares much about your health ദ്ദി ˉ͈̀꒳ˉ͈́ )✧

001. sleep

For optimal health, one should get eight to ten hours of sleep per night.

You try to stifle a yawn as Zayne glances over the day’s news, projected onto the smooth white tabletop. He looks up, eyes narrowing as you freeze halfway through, attempting to mask the motion with a soft cough.

You reach for your half-finished coffee but Zayne tugs it away with a soft sigh.

“Didn’t sleep well last night?”

You purse your lips, averting your eyes as you reach for a slice of toast, tugging off a corner and stuffing it in your mouth.

“Would’ve slept better if someone hadn’t kept me up past my bedtime.”

This time, it’s Zayne who looks away, coughing as he sips at his own coffee.

“I made sure we finished at a reasonable hour.”

You jerk upright, eyes wide, mouth dropping open, a hot flush working its way into your cheeks. You wonder how he can keep such a straight face, how he looks so fundamentally unbothered. But then, he lets out a light chuckle.

“But you’re right — they say it’s not good to have strenuous exercise right before bed. I’ll be more careful next time.”

“Zayne!” you toss a crumpled bit of napkin at him, your heartbeat pounding at the back of your throat.

Zayne’s eyebrow flicks upward as he picks up the piece of tissue and gently lobs it into the trash can next to the kitchen counter before going back to this breakfast, the faintest hint of a smile shadowing his lips.

002. water

Adults over 19 should drink 1.5 to 2 liters of water a day for optimal health.

“Hello? What is it?”

“Hi! Uhm… where are you? I don’t — I don’t see you.”

“I’m… at home.”

“What? But… the app says you’ve arrived…”

Zayne sighs, “Did you dial the wrong number? This is Zayne.”

“…Oh! Oops.”

“Where are you? Have you been drinking?”

You hiccup, and he can almost see you shaking your head the way you do when you want to deny something you’d obviously been doing. He pushes up from the sofa, grabbing his coat.

“Not… not a lot — Tara just wanted to celebrate since —“ you hiccup again, “since it’s her first promotion, y’know?”

Zayne hums, “Mhm. Where are you?”

“No, no! It’s okay! I called a cab —“

“Cancel it. I’ll come get you.”

“But…”

“Cancel it. And send me your location.”

Thirteen minutes later, you’re climbing into the passenger seat of Zayne’s car with a sheepish smile.

“Sorry…”

“Don’t be. Here.”

You blink down at the bottle of water Zayne is pressing into your lap.

“Oh… thanks, but I had a lot of water at the bar!” You turn to flash him a bright, proud smile, “See? I do listen to you!”

Zayne laughs as he pulls into a stop light, glancing over at you, the bottle of water cradled between your hands.

“Yes, and I suppose you’re very proud of yourself this time?” there’s a teasing lilt to his voice that lets you know he’s not mad. Still, you scowl.

“Shouldn’t you be proud that your patient is getting better at taking care of herself?”

Zayne sighs, reaching over the tug the bottle from your hands before unscrewing the cap and handing it back to you.

“Drink.”

You look like you’re about to argue for a split second before you catch the sharp look in his eye and bring the bottle up to your lips for a long drink. Zayne allows himself a satisfied smile as he reaches over to give your knee a quick squeeze.

“Good. Good girl.”

003. sun

To maintain healthy blood levels, aim to get 10 - 30 minutes of midday sun, several days a week.

“It’s been raining for forever…”

Zayne looks up from the patient chart propped up in his lap.

You’re sprawled across the sofa on the other side of the room, staring at the bleary, rain-streaked windows with a dull, world-weary expression. Zayne’s eyes flick toward the window for a second before sliding up to the large clock above his door.

It’s three minutes till the end of the day, and he’d agreed you could wait for him in his office while he finished up.

“It has.” He drops his eyes back down to the chart in his hands. The patient is doing well — all things considered. He should keep them for another night of study before signing off to let him go home. Zayne punches in the quick note in for his nurses before setting the chart down.

“Weather forecast says it’s gonna rain all through the weekend too.”

“Hm.” Zayne gets up, rolling his shoulders loose of the knots that had gathered there before rounding his desk, “Come on then.”

“Oh! Are you done? Are we… going to get dinner?” You jump up from the sofa, seemingly revived, a smile on your face. Zayne regards you for a moment before turning.

“Not yet.”

“Not… yet?” you trail after him as he shrugs on his coat and locks his office door.

He can feel your curiosity bubbling for the entire walk to his car through the vast parking garage. He allows himself a smile as you slide in and look at him expectantly. For a second, he toys with the idea of not telling you, of seeing just how long you can hold out before you start to pester him.

“You’ll see,” he says, just as you open your mouth to ask.

“So… it’s a surprise?” you ask.

He shrugs, pulling out of the parking space and cresting through the dimly lit parking structure till he turns onto the bustling city street.

“I suppose it will be.”

“Did you… plan this?” he can hear the hopefulness in your voice, the giddiness sparkling there like soda fizz.

“No, but did you say I should try to be more spontaneous sometimes?”

“Sure but…” he can hear you pouting, “well, fine, if you really don’t want to tell me.”

He keeps quiet just to savor in the silence, in the knowledge that you are here with him, and so, so eager to know what he has planned for you. He wonders if it’s cruel to enjoy this, to love the way you’re so reactive, to love… everything about you.

You blink as he pulls into a darkened road, wide as it is, to the clearly gated Botanical Gardens. Your confusion only grows as the night guard there gives him a cheery wave before punching a button and the giant gates hiss open to allow you both entry.

“Thanks,” Zayne says, lifting a hand as the night guard waves them through with a bright smile.

He casts you a single glance before chuckling, “His daughter was a patient of mine a while back — she had a genetic cardiac condition that — well,” Zayne breaks off as he parks the car in the first space and opens the door.

“Regardless, she needed surgery. It was risky but… we managed to save her.”

He leads you down the winding path to one of the smaller greenhouses, lit up so brightly from the inside that you have to squint your eyes as he punches in an access code and lets you both through the door.

The wall of heat that greets you both nearly knocks you off your feet but a moment later, you smile as the warmth seeps into your skin, and you turn your face up towards the high ceilings, speckled with what you’re certain are tiny little sunlamps, beaming down at the arid landscape below.

“Are these… cacti?” you wonder aloud, shuffling over to a large, bulbous plant with long thin spikes.

“Yes, these are the desert plants. They need prolonged exposure to sunlight to live.”

“Oh…” you bend down to read the short description of the cacti before moving onto the next one, and then the next one. Zayne trails behind you, watching with a soft smile and softer eyes as you point out the tiny little yellow flowers budding on one, and the strange shapes of another.

“Not that this isn’t fun and all but…” you turn to him as you finally return to the front of the greenhouse, having seen all the different varieties of desert plants in this particular area, “why’d you bring me here?”

Zayne holds open the door for you.

“You looked like you were missing the sun.”

Even beneath the barely there lighting of the parking lot, Zayne sees your blush darkening your cheeks.

“I — I guess I was,” you say as you slip once more into the passenger seat of his car, looking over at him, “but… weren’t you missing it too?”

Zayne’s grin skews as he tugs on his seatbelt, but he schools his expression back into its usual mask of stoicism as he answers, “No. I’ve already got you.”

[bunnywritesjunk]

Hiiii love got sent here by a lil birdie that told me you can fulfill my ghost x hybrid bunny reader request here 🥹💀💗

Honestly wanna know how ghost would handle a bratty bunny that’s going through heat, but is too stubborn to go to him about, when seriously he’s alway down to tame that insatiable lil beast inside of heerrr 😋🤞🏽

Thank you so much for writing anything period, seriously. 🐰💗

Hello my fellow bunny. I had a lot of fun writing this. I'll probably do more hybrid reader stuff if people request it. I feel like Ghost would be a bit of a meanie in this situation, he's a brat tamer for sure. I hope you enjoy!

Warnings: Heat, helping through heat, unprotected sex, Hybrid!reader, edging, bratty reader.

A helping Hand

Your ears twitched as the sun poured in through the window. You sat up in your cot rubbing the sleep away from your eyes. You sat up, your pajama shirt sticking to your bedding with pools of sweat. You padded off to your bathroom immediately hopping in the shower. Dull cramps in your lower stomach made you groan.

“Oh, not now. Please.” You pleaded with your biology.

You've been taking suppressants for your heat ever since you moved to this base. You gave your body a break and went off suppressants when you were on leave but this time something or someone had triggered your heat. You had a sneaking suspicion as to who it is. Being a weapons mechanic meant you didn't have to be around people very often. As long as a certain someone wasn't here you should be ok. You finished your cold shower and got dressed for the day. You tucked your ears under a cap and hid your tail in your pants. Although there were other hybrids on base, you didn't exactly want to display your rabbit features everywhere. You walked quickly to your station, avoiding any soldiers that might come your way.

You entered the weapons room and got to work. You had a few gun inspections to do. The real work wouldn't come until Ghost and his squadron came back from their mission. They were scheduled to arrive in two days, but you prayed it took them longer than that. Ghost would smell your heat, the embarrassment of having to ask him was too much. You weren't some needy bunny, you can handle your heat alone. After a few inspections were done you wrote up your paperwork for them the be cleaned and handed out for the next mission. Being engrossed in work took your mind off your impending heat.

First, you smelled him. The faint scent of Ghost. No, he wasn't supposed to be back yet. He slammed open the door unceremoniously placing all his weapons on the nearby table. Crap you kept your head down and hoped the smell of gunpowder covered your heat.

“Miss me, bunny?” You could practically hear the smirk in his voice. His wolf tail had a slight wag to it.

“You're back early, how was the mission?”

“Easy, mostly recon.” He sighed.

You gestured at the guns he put down. “I'll get those checked out for you.”

Ghost walked up to the counter you were behind and leaned on it.

“You had lunch yet?” He asked. You shook your head.

“Come on then.” He headed toward the door.

“I'm not that hungry, you can go without me.” You didn't meet his eyes.

“Hmm.” He slowly walked behind the weapons counter blocking the only exit.

“Is there something wrong?” He asked in a matter-of-fact tone.

“No, why would there be anything wrong?” You shrugged.

He leaned down to your level, his eyes peeking at you through blonde eyelashes. You backed up as far as you could only able to get a few more inches away from him.

“You're not a very good liar, bunny.” He stood up to his full height and walked out, leaving you flustered and hot.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The rest of the day went by painfully slow. Your heat intensified after Ghost paid his visit. It came over you in waves, almost causing you to double over at times. You considered asking him for help many times but ultimately decided against it. After work was done you practically ran to your room. You'd already asked your supervisor if you could have the next few days off, explaining the situation. You opened the door and shut it quickly behind you before shedding your clothes off. Your tail ached from being hidden all day. Your fuzzy ears stretched out, one stayed straight up and the other folded down. You flopped down onto your bed eager to use your toys.

You reached into the drawer on your bedside table, only to find nothing. You sat up and searched frantically. Where did you put them? This is bad. You looked under your bed, in your bathroom, in your dresser, nothing. The frustration started getting to you. Your eyes welled up with tears as you looked. Your feet thumped in anger every time you looked and they weren't there. As you checked your bathroom for the third time a knock sounded at your door. You grabbed your robe as you were only in underwear and slipped it on. You stomped to the door and wiped your tears before opening it.

A skull mask was staring down at you. Ghost held up a familiar velvet bag and leaned on your doorframe.

“Looking for something?”

You reached up to grab the bag but he kept it out of reach.

“Give it to me, Simon!” You whined.

He pushed himself off the door and into your room closing the door behind him. The blonde shaggy tail wagged lazily behind him, clearly amused by your distress.

“Now, why didn't my bunny come to me for help?” He asked.

Your ears folded down against your head in embarrassment. “I don't need your help.”

He walked past you and put your toys back in the bedside drawer. He started taking off his gloves.

“Ok, thank you for returning them, you can leave now.” You said.

He placed his gloves on the nightstand. He turned to you, his eyes darkened. He stalked toward you slowly almost as if he was ready to pounce. You looked away from him but held your ground. He towered over you and tilted his head.

“You always were a little brat huh?” His words annoyed you.

Before you can give him a rebuttal he took his mask off giving you a full view of his scarred face. He grabbed your jaw roughly contrasting the gentle kiss he gave you. His tongue caressed your mouth open. Your knees weakened as he pulled you flush against his body by your waist. Your heat urged your body to submit, but your mind wasn't there yet. You pulled away breathlessly. He still had a firm hold on the side of your face.

“I don't need your help, Simon.” You said once again quietly.

Simon's golden ear twitched in annoyance. “Right.”

He picked you up by the hips and wrapped your legs around his waist. He walked you to your bed, embarrassment written on your face. He laid you down on the bed, pressing his hips into yours. You whimpered at the friction he created. He leaned down to nibble and suck your neck making you squirm. His hand made its way past your robe and into your panties with ease. Your wetness made it easy for him to dip his fingers into you. You gasped at the intrusion, practically melting into the mattress.

“Don't need my help, but you're so wet for me, Bunny.”

“I bet you were gonna think of me anyway.” Simon purred into your ear.

You moaned weakly as he worked his finger into you, his thumb circling your clit gently. His nose grazed your own, taking in the look of ecstasy on your face. Your orgasm came quickly and with force. Simon knew exactly what buttons to push to get you shivering under him. He unsheathed his fingers from you and popped them in his mouth, tasting your slick.

“Tell me what you want.” He demanded.

“ I...Simon..." You whined.

“Tell me, Bunny.”

You covered your face muffling your words.

“I can't hear you, love. Speak up.”

“Please help me.....through my heat....”

“That's more like it." He purred.

He opened your robe and slid your panties off. In his haste, he ripped them a bit and you whined. You ignored your small protest and worked on your bra removing it expertly.

“I'll buy you some new ones.” He said quickly.

Ghost shed his clothing and flipped you over on your stomach.

“Ass up.” He tapped your hip.

You got on your knees arching your back deeply to present yourself to him. You wiggled your ass eager to have him inside you. He used a hand to steady your hips and slid his tip in between your folds. He slowly pushed himself into savoring the way your walls clenched around him.

“Ohh, you feel so good, Bunny.” He growled.

You were almost incoherent, the daze of your heat clouding your mind. You pushed your hips against his trying to get more friction. Simon bottomed out into you and started thrusting into you hard. He kept his pace slow at first, slamming his hips into yours. His tip grazed your cervix in a deliciously painful way. You whimpered every time it did. As his pace sped up, Simon's sighs turned into grunts and moans. He enjoyed watching your fluffy bunny tail bounce as he rammed into you.

“You take me so well.” The praise he gave you made your walls flutter.

He reached around your leg to rub your clit. Your moans got more desperate and guttural as your second orgasm approached. He slowed his movements ever so slightly to drag your pleasure out longer.

“I wanna cum Si, Please.” You whined.

“Only when I tell you, Bunny. You know the rules.” He grunted out.

“And since you didn't come to me first, you need a little bit of a punishment hmm?” You could hear the smirk in his voice.

His thrust slowed, still keeping them firm. His hips slapped against your ass rhythmically. Your moans got higher pitched, his edging did a number on your heat-ridden body. Your legs trembled underneath you, the stimulation becoming more intense by the second. Luckily he didn't torture you for long.

“Cum for me.”

Simon's pace sped up and you came almost instantly. Your vision was fuzzy as you collapsed onto the bed. He bent down and caressed your head as you recovered from your orgasm. Simon rubbed your ear lovingly.

“I'm not done with you, Bunny.”

[anonziesssz]

Exclusive Scoop: Love on the Grid

✦- Authors Note: isaw this in my drafts and decided to post it, might also be my last fanfic on tumblr cuz i js dont rlly like tumblr anymore idk but i'll still be posting blue lock fanfics on ao3 ig...

✦- pairings: Carlos Sainx jr x Journalist!reader.

✦- summary: After interviewing him for so long, carlos dcides to take the reader for a date, finally confessing his feeling for the journalist.

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

You had always felt that the interview was much more than asking questions; it was a dance of finding a balance between curiosity and rapport. It was your mantra as a motorsport journalist, and it worked quite well. From coverage of Formula 2 to interviews with world champions, you had carved yourself a little nook within the paddock.

Among the many faces you’d come to know in the sport, Carlos Sainz stood out. From your first interaction during his Toro Rosso days to now, as Ferrari’s pride, he’d always been gracious, witty, and effortlessly charming. Over the years, your interviews with him had evolved into something more. Something that felt personal.

But it was still work. That's what you kept telling yourself as you navigated your way toward the Ferrari hospitality area on a steamy Saturday in Singapore.

The paddock was alive with energy, the air alive with the purring of engines and the chatter of fans and teams. You spotted Carlos leaning against the railing, his red Ferrari cap slightly askew as he laughed at something said by an engineer. 

"Carlos," you called, stepping closer. He turned, his grin widening as he spotted you.

"Ah, mi periodista favorita!" he exclaimed, pushing off the railing. "Here to ask me why I'm so good around street circuits?"  

"Maybe I'm here to ask why you're so insufferable," you shot back, smirking as you adjusted the strap of your bag.  

He clutched his chest dramatically. "You wound me. I thought we were friends."

"Pals who pose the tough questions," you shot back, digging for your recorder.

The interview flowed as smoothly as ever, with Carlos giving thoughtful answers to your questions while sprinkling in his usual humor.

He spoke of strategy, his confidence in the car, and the challenges of Singapore's grueling track. But there were the moments his gaze would land on you, his tone softening as if this conversation meant more than just a headline.

You always ask good questions," he said out of the blue, and he caught you by surprise.  

"Thanks," you said, blinking at the sincerity in his voice. "I try to keep it interesting."  

"You do," he said, his lips curving into a small, almost shy smile.

It was one of those moments that just hung in the air, making you slightly flustered and scrambling to wrap up the interview. As you were about to leave, Carlos seemed to have hesitated. 

"Do you have plans tonight?" he asked casually, though looking uncharacteristically nervous. 

"Just editing this interview," you said with a tilt of your head. "Why?

Carlos shifted, scratching the back of his neck. "I was wondering if you'd like to have dinner with me. Not just as a journalist," he added hastily. "As you."  

Your heart skipped a beat. It wasn't every day that a Formula 1 driver- Carlos Sainz no less-asked you out.  

"I'd love to," you said, a smile spreading across your face.  

Back in the hotel room, one could not help but have the evening weigh upon their shoulders. Was this dinner? Or was this something entirely else? Carlos was being friendly, always, but this felt very different. A hesitant kind of nervousness in him all that evening betrayed something deeper.

You dismissed the thoughts and began to get ready. You put on an outfit that was just right-balanced between chic and casual enough to feel confident with but not overdone. 

Then, when Carlos texted to let you know he was downstairs, you grabbed your bag and began to head toward the lobby.

He stood waiting beside the car, his caramel skin set off by a crisp, white button-down shirt. He grinned when he caught your eye and opened the door with a flourish.  

"You look beautiful," he said, his voice husky.  

"Thank you," you said, your face warming. "You clean up pretty well yourself."  

The restaurant Carlos had selected, La Perla, was tucked away from busy thoroughfares in Singapore-a little jewel of a place. Darkened light and soft live guitar music playing made the setting intimate.

Carlos pulled out a chair for you; his hand brushed against yours as you sat down. "Hope you like Spanish," he said with a grin.

"I'd be worried if you didn't take me to a Spanish restaurant," you teased, drawing a laugh.  

The meal was a real culinary masterpiece: plates of jamón ibérico, perfectly cooked seafood, rich paella -all shared between you as conversation flowed effortlessly.  

"So," said Carlos, leaning back against the chair, "tell me something about yourself that I don't know."

An eyebrow had arched. "That's a tough one. You've asked me a lot of questions over the years." 

"Exactly," he said, eyes shining with play. "Now it's my turn to be the journalist." 

You'd considered for a minute before responding with, "Okay. I never actually planned on being a motorsport journalist. I went to school for literature." 

"Literature?" Carlos leaned forward, interest piqued. "How did you end up here?

It was a sideline, you continued, "Doing a few local races for this little magazine, and then I was hooked. The energy of it all just drew me in. The rest is history."  

Carlos nodded thoughtfully. "You're good at it. Really good."  

"Thank you," you said softly, feeling a blush creep up your cheeks.

He leaned across the table, his fingers brushing yours. "I mean it. You're more than just good-you're one of the best."  

After dinner, Carlos suggested a walk along the waterfront. The city's lights reflected from the water, making a shimmering backdrop as the two of you strolled side by side.

"Do you always sweet-talk your way through interviews?" You asked, looking up at him.  

"Only when the journalist happens to be someone special," he returned, smooth and low, sending your heart fluttering for cover.  

You rolled your eyes, though couldn't suppress the smile tugging at your lips. "Is this your way of saying I'm the favourite?"  

"Absolutamente," he replied deadpan, though with a naughty glint in his eye.

You laughed, shaking your head. "Careful, Carlos. People might start talking."  

"Let them," he said, stopping in his tracks.  

You turned to face him, your breath hitching as his gaze locked onto yours. "What is it?" you asked softly.

"I've been thinking about this for a long time," he admitted, his voice steady but quiet. "Every time I saw you in the paddock, I wanted to say something, but I didn't know how. Tonight, I realized I didn't want to wait anymore."

Your heart pounded as he stepped closer, his hands gently cradling your face. "Life's too short not to take a chance," he murmured, before leaning in.  

The kiss was soft and tentative at first, but as you responded, it deepened, filled with all the emotions words couldn't express.

When you finally pulled away, Carlos rested his head against yours, the tiniest of smiles on his lips. "This feels right," he whispered.  

"It does," you replied, your voice not much above a whisper.  

As you sat reviewing your interview notes the next morning, you just couldn't help but smile. The professional line you'd always maintained had blurred, and for the first time in your career, you didn't mind. 

It was as if Carlos had changed something inside you-he had reminded you that it wasn't just the stories you told, but those you lived.

And as your phone buzzed with the new message from him, that is when you realized this was only just the very beginning of your own inspiring story.  

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

[astonmartinii]

dj got us falling in love | lando norris social media au

pairing: lando norris x dj!reader

a new hobby can sometimes open many new avenues, sometimes even lead to love

landonorris

liked by yourusername, carlossainz55 and 604,446 others

landonorris: the morning after the night before

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user1 lando really be on his hobby game rn

maxverstappen1 so that's where you were the entire night?

landonorris i saw you dancing your heart out so don't complain maxverstappen1 you are overestimating just how much of last night i remember

user2 dj!lando unlocked ... does this mean photographer!lando is dead?

user3 he's so so sexy oh my

user4 the backwards cap is WORKING

danielricciardo so how long is this one gonna last?

landonorris i swear this is the one for me

yourusername

liked by landonorris, arianagrande and 1,204,556 others

yourusername: life recently... check out my boiler room set in the link in my bio it was super fun xxx

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user5 eating up the dj game i am obsessed with her

user6 i need to be at her next set or i'll become a threat to national security

landonorris sick set y/n !!

user7 bro what are you doing here? GET OUT OF HERE

danielricciardo ah i now see where the new inspiration came from ...

landonorris i need you to shut the fuck up yourusername awww thanks lando, send me some of ur stuff we can compare x landonorris on it 🫡 maxverstappen1 i don't know how you've pulled this off but i am impressed

user8 what actually is going on in this comment section

landonorris added to their story

[caption: bestest teacher in the world]

yourusername

liked by landonorris, danielricciardo and 1,437,892 others

yourusername: life recently

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user6 ALERT ALERT MALE ALERT

user7 heavy emphasis on the mug rn

danielricciardo @maxverstappen1 whoa that hand looks super familiar

maxverstappen1 you're right daniel that hand does look familiar .... yourusername yall crack me up user8 lando you gonna let them do you like that? landonorris my pr officier said not to reply carlossainz55 bro... landonorris oh shit

user9 mclaren really keep all his brain cells i can't

silverstone

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tagged: yourusername, f1

silverstone: big announcement coming in fast ! y/n y/ln will be headlining the silverstone main stage for this year's british grand prix - the dj will take the stage for the sunday evening slot. see you all there!

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user10 idc this is fuelling my lando x y/n agenda

user11 i'm so fucking excited

landonorris i'll be there

oscarpiastri you are contractually obligated to be there mate landonorris let me be supportive !!! user12 oscar is done with the pining

yourusername thank you so much for having me !! i won't let you down

carlossainz55 by all accounts you're too good to do that user13 have they all just collectively given up on the secret? maxverstappen1 yes too much effort

landonorris

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landonorris: P2 in quali at home !! super, super happy, lets see what we can do on sunday

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user14 I AM LOSING MY MIND

user15 this is crazy i'm so proud

yourusername lets go landoooooooooooooooooooooooooo so sick

landonorris blah blah blah something about a certain someone being a lucky charm ;) yourusername does this mean paddock passes for life? landonorris it might have to

user16 they're so cute

user17 the crowd cheered when they showed her in the garage silverstone is ROOTING for this relationship

oscarpiastri let's get this bro

mclaren

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mclaren: LANDO TAKES HOME P2 AT HIS HOME RACE

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user20 OMG THAT OVERTTAKE AT THE START I AM GAGGED

yourusername unbelievably proud of you lando

landonorris love you too babe user21 BABE? user22 LOVE YOU TOO?

danielricciardo i saw that shoey man i'm so proud 🥲

landonorris miss you danny danielricciardo i miss you more yourusername am i a joke to you? landonorris i'm sorry i love you yourusername love you too ❤️

user23 why is danny always at the scene of the crime?

yourusername

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tagged: landonorris

yourusername: best weekend ever!! silverstone you're the best, my favourite crowd ever !! p.s. lando i am so so so so proud, though if you try to kiss me after a shoey again we're breaking up.

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user24 CONFIRMATION CONFIRMATION OMG

user25 them saying i love you under mclaren's post wasn't enough for you?

landonorris noted.

landonorris ALSO YOU WERE SO SO GOOD I LOVE YOU SO MUCH yourusername i love you more, thanks for the gig baby xx

maxverstappen1 do you take bookings? my birthday is in october

martingarrix i see how it is yourusername i'm not getting involved in this domestic you're on your own max

user26 god when is it my turn

landonorris

liked by yourusername, maxverstappen1 and 1,774,871 others

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landonorris: dj got us falling in love or something like that, love you baby.

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note: I'M BACK - so my absence was a lot longer than expected, i graduated uni (with a first, i'm so stoked) and my housing has been a whole mess. i worked at silverstone, hence the inspo for this imagine... ENJOY !!!

[peachhcs]

all eyes on you

hughes!sister x will smith au (samy + will)

will and samy have to relearn how to be in a relationship together on top of will's new found fame as an nhl player

2.6k words

MAKING MY RETURN ONCE AGAIN! here's something i wrote that i didn't hate!! so sorry it's been so long i keep getting writer's block lol anyways writing hate comments is lowkey so fun hahaha but here's will and samy navigating their relationship after getting back together :)

au masterlist

will was beyond excited to finally get a weekend off. he'd been going, going, going since preseason back in august and now with it being almost november, the sharks didn't have any weekend games for once. as soon as thursday night hit, will was packing his bag for michigan to see guess who? samy.

he did feel a little bad he wasn't using the weekend to go home to boston, but his parents assured him it was okay he flew out to michigan instead. it had been months since the couple saw one another, so the blonde wasn't going to pass up the opportunity to see his girlfriend for a few days.

samy waited patiently in the arrival line of cars, eyes scanning the doors for her boyfriend. she was bouncing off the walls all week getting the place ready for him and rambling on to hannah and her other roommates about their weekend plans—surely talking their ears off about the particular blonde.

she spotted him first when the doors slid open. samy jumped up, waving her hands around to catch his attention as he scanned the line of people for her. when their gazes finally met will quite literally rushed into her arms. he scooped her up into a tight hug, her feet lifting off the concrete as the two spun around.

"i missed you so much," will mumbled into her shoulder, her hold getting even tighter.

"i missed you, too. it's so good to see you," samy beamed up at him, her hands already threading through his longer curls.

"god, it's been so long," will embraced her again, the couple melting into one another when a click caught their attention and someone tapping the boy's shoulder.

will turned, confusion on his features when two girls stood behind him with large smiles, "will smith, right? we're big fans."

the blonde flushed, eyes flicking around—he didn't quite expect running into fans at the airport, but he sported a smile nonetheless.

"yeah, hi. it's good to meet you guys."

samy watched from behind will as he signed their hats, a gentle smile on her lips. she loved watching her boyfriend interacting with fans knowing how many people looked up to him nowadays.

"thank you so much!" the girls grinned before hurrying away. will watched them run back to their own car, eyes turning back to his girlfriend.

"okay, big shot," she poked his chest, another flush spreading across his cheeks.

"sorry about that," he murmured, slightly embarrassed that their moment was interrupted.

"i gotta remember my boyfriend's a big star now," she flicked will's cap before climbing back into the car.

the embarrassment was quickly washed away hearing samy's appraisal. to will, she would always be his number one fan. they pulled out of the line and began driving back to the university. his hand slipped over her thigh, squeezing lightly while leaning back in his seat. for a moment, everything felt like before—before the nhl, before the fame, before college when they were still young.

"ryan and gabe are jealous i get to see you this weekend and they don't," samy joked.

for a second will frowned, the guilt that he didn't go home to boston still lingering in the back of his head, "i wish we could all be together."

"i know, i told them they should fly out, but they have a game tomorrow so they can't miss it. i said we could facetime or something," the brunette giggled and will chuckled.

"hopefully i'll see them in a few weeks. i'm going to boston on the next weekend off," the blonde hummed and he felt samy squeeze his hand resting on her leg.

"has it been everything you've dreamed of?" samy wondered, her gaze meeting will's briefly.

"yeah, it has. it's really great. the guys are awesome. i love san jose. it's cool doing it with macklin. really couldn't have asked for anything better except wishing you were there or that everyone was there," the nhl seemed like a dream so far away for will and it was still hard to believe he was actually living it.

"i'm really proud of you. you're really glowing there, literally and figuratively," she pinched the boy's cheeks meaning the nice tan he acquired.

"thank you. i still miss all of this though. i wish i could do both," as they got closer to umich, will couldn't help but think about boston and how fast everything went. too fast.

"well, i guess this weekend can be your three day escape back into it. eth and mark are excited to see you too," the brunette grinned and will laughed.

"figured, but i'm surprised to hear that considering last time i was around they hated my guts."

"i mean, rightfully so. don't worry, they're cool now. they might rough you up, but they're excited to see you," the couple exchanged a smile and will squeezed samy's thigh, all of the stress from the last three months finally leaving his system for the weekend—and will couldn't be more relieved.

—

with any high profile job, there was always the negatives. it couldn't be escaped no matter how hard one tried to get rid of it. will knew all the fame would bring its critics. it was kind of a given that there would be haters and negative comments here and there. his agent prepared him for it, or at least tried to. he just had to ignore them and not engage knowing anything he said online could be used against him.

it was a whole thing the blonde was still getting used to. he had to watch what he said, posted, liked, commented on—he basically couldn't really breathe on the internet anymore knowing someone was always watching.

it was easy until will was scrolling through his feed and landed on a photo of him and samy at the airport.

the boy sat up, scanning the photo closer. it was zoomed in like whoever took it was further away. he could see the two fans about to come up to them. a somewhat uneasy feeling settled into will's stomach not really liking that there was someone watching that entire interaction between him and samy.

it was the caption and all the comments that got him though. there was about 200 since the photo was posted an hour ago and the caption said: first weekend off for the san jose sharks and newest prospect will smith is spotted in michigan visiting his girlfriend. spotted talking with fans!

will was told not to read the comments on things like this because if they were bad, it'd send him into a spiral he couldn't get out of. usually, he didn't and just scrolled past but the ones showing up in the preview wouldn't let will tear his eyes away.

user1: HUH i thought he broke up with her??

user2: goddd he's back with her?? thought he was over her for good.

user3: he could do so much better than her jesus. i literally thought she cheated on him🤨

user4: ignoring fans for a worthless girl 😭😭

user5: woah these comments did not pass the vibe check why is there so much hate??

user6: i actually hate their relationship sorry. people think she's so great because she's quinn and jack's little sister. she only got into umich bc of her brothers. she actually sucks ass at soccer    | user9: uh hello?? this is crazy she's actually really talented and really smart. she got into umich all on her own    | user6: nahhh bro u crazy fans are so brainwashed into thinking that just bc she's a hughes    | user10: uh her last name has nothing to do with anything. she's good on her own wtf u on??    | user6: i'm just being real. she's been leaching off smith for YEARS and y'all don't even realize it    | user9: leaching?? wtf she was way more known than will she is not leaching. who hurt u wtf

user7: GET HER OUTTA HERE BRUHHHH

user8: samy hughes they could never make me like you

user11: he's probably only with her bc he gets to get a taste of that 🍑🍑

will shut his phone off, eyes blurry. he couldn't believe people were saying those things about samy or how they could even post those things knowing others were reading it. suddenly, the blonde worried samy would see those comments.

"okay, i'm off to practice. you gonna be okay here alone? hannah should be back around 6:30?" samy walked into the living room dressed in her practice uniform.

"yeah, yeah. i'll be good. have a good practice," will put on his best smile, leaning up to place a gentle kiss to the girl's lips.

"thanks, i will. are you okay?" samy saw her boyfriend's flushed state.

"hmm? oh, yeah. i'm good," the blonde nodded.

"okay, i'll see you later then. i love you," will grinned, waving to her as she slipped out the door.

will grabbed his phone again, going back onto the post. there were even more comments than when he just looked at it, his breath catching in his chest. he couldn't believe there was so much hate and how people were taking the context out of proportion.

it didn't help either that will and samy were still relearning how to be in a relationship with one another. they were still working out their kinks which wasn't easy being across the country from one another and now there was this.

hannah walked into the apartment an hour later, gaze on her best friend's boyfriend staring at his phone. she raised her eyebrow, "hey will?" 

her voice startled the boy as he jumped up, but calming when he saw that it was only hannah as she shut the door behind her. "oh, hey. sorry. you scared me," will mumbled, sitting back down. 

"are you okay? you looked stressed," the brunette set her keys and backpack on the counter, reaching for the cabinets for a snack. 

"oh, i'm fine," unfortunately, hannah didn't believe him. 

"you sure? you look like you've seen a ghost," the younger duke sibling laughed. 

will knew he could trust hannah, so he motioned her over to look at his phone where he hadn't stopped reading all the comments. he let her look it over, the girl slowly scrolling through all the comments under the post. 

"jesus, these people are so ruthless," hannah mumbled. 

"i can't believe they're saying that stuff. how could people be so rude?" will said in disbelief. 

"they're just jealous and petty that you're not their boyfriend. don't let it get under your skin," hannah handed him his phone back, but her words didn't ease the boy's worries. 

"how are you so cool about this?" will didn't get how hannah seemed so chill about what people were saying unlike him who was ready to punch someone in the face. the girl shrugged. 

"i don't know. i mean i hate that they're saying that shit and it's really gross, but you gotta remember samy and i are kind of used to it. samy more than me i guess. we've been in our brother's shadows our whole lives. people have always had shit to say about us," she had a point that will didn't think about. he settled back into the couch. 

"okay, fair, but i still hate it. they know nothing about my life and shouldn't be disrespecting my girlfriend like that," will stated. 

"maybe you could say something? from what i've learned, haters will stop when they hear it from the source." 

will considered hannah's words until samy got back from practice. she smiled when she saw her boyfriend in the same spot she left him in, going over to kiss him on the forehead as she shedded herself of her bags. 

"hi, get bored while i was gone?" samy chuckled. 

"no. how was praactice?" will pulled samy down to the couch with him for a bit. 

"it was good. we ran some drills and a possible new formation coach wants us to try at the next game," the girl explained. 

"sounds just like hockey practice," the blonde chuckled. 

"yeah, sometimes i feel like i'm at hockey practice," samy hummed, pulling her phone out to look at since she hadn't since practice ended. 

will quickly grew nervous again. he was scared samy would see the post knowing people were starting to mention her in the comments. even though hannah told him they were used to it, it still made him feel uneasy that all of those strangers were saying such horrid things about them. 

"you okay? you've been looking like that since we got here," samy noticed her boyfriend's expression again. 

"yeah, fine," will nodded, but samy gave him a look because she knew he was lying. 

"will, i know you're lying. you're so easy to read," she poked at him with a tiny smile, the boy flushing in embarrassment. 

"i promise it's nothing," he said. 

"it has to be something if you keep looking like you saw a ghost," samy poked some more and will knew he couldn't keep this from her. they were being honest with one another now. 

"i just..there's this post on instagram. i guess someone saw us at the airport and took a photo and now everyone's commenting on it saying some pretty mean things," will finally explained himself, studying samy's reaction as she digested his words. 

"oh." 

will pulled his phone out so he could show her, cringing as samy began scrolling through some of the comments. she read a few of them and will kept studying her expression, yet her features stayed fairly neutral. 

"i swear, some people just really like to say anything," the girl shook her head, handing will's phone back. 

"you're not upset?" he was surprised at her calm disposition. 

"i mean, it's gross and weird they're saying that stuff, but i'm not like overly hurt by it," the brunette shrugged. 

"oh." it was will's turn to be shocked now. 

"did you think i would be more hurt by it?" samy pinched the boy's cheeks and he flushed under her touch.

"i was just scared you'd see them and i didn't want you to be hurt by them because it's just nonsense and i don't agree with any of it," will admitted a bit shyly. samy's lips tipped up into a smile as she cuddled herself closer to him. 

"you're sweet, but trust me, that stuff doesn't bother me as much anymore. i'm pretty used to it. you forget i've been compared to quinn, jack, and luke all my life. it just kind of rolls off my back," samy said exactly what hannah told him earlier. hearing it from her though made will feel a bit more relieved than last time. 

"i just bothers me that people think it's okay to say that stuff. i guess i was worried you'd like..not wanna keep doing this because everyone has something to say about my life now," the blonde frowned and so did samy. 

"i'm not gonna leave you just because i can't take hate comments. i get that this is a lot now with more eyes on you, but i can take it. don't worry. i've been doing this since i was like ten," they shared a laugh. 

will leaned his head onto her shoulder, the worry in his chest much better than it was two hours ago. "how'd i get so lucky?" he pressed a kiss to her cheek. 

"i don't know, but i'm hungry. mark and eth said they'd pay for our dinner tonight," samy jumped up, arm outstretched to grab will off the couch too. 

"oh, goody. i'll take free food," the blonde grinned, following his girlfriend back out of the apartment to meet the guys. 

[the-marshals-wife]

Refuge (Sierra Six x Reader)

─ ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ 𝐑𝐘𝐀𝐍 𝐆𝐎𝐒𝐋𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓 ⋅☆⋅ 𝐌𝐀𝐈𝐍 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓 ⋅☆⋅ 𝐀𝐎𝟑 ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─

A/N: It's official: I'm obsessed with The Gray Man. I've watched it 3 times so far in under 2 months, and I really wanted to write something sweet for my current favorite Goose character.

Description: Sierra Six/Courtland Gentry x Fem!Reader, established (secret) relationship; flirty, steamy fluff + angst if you squint | Warnings: suggestive themes, kissing, alcohol | Setting: post-movie | Word count: 1,746

Gif credit: user magnusedom

Imagine Six returning to you, his best kept secret, and asking you to come away with him

There was only one thing in the world that could make you open the front door of your apartment after midnight. The instant you recognize the familiar, distinct sequence of knocking, you shoot upright from your slumber and scramble off of the sofa, the book on your chest flying across the floor from where you had dozed off. Having almost tripped on the rug, you release the dead bolt and frantically fumble with the chain lock. Heart pounding, you slide it loose and jerk open the door.

Waiting on the other side like an apparition was a smiling face you weren't sure you'd ever lay eyes on again.

"Sorry for the late hour, ma'am. Could I trouble you for a cup of sugar?"

"Court!"

You couldn't help it. His name, the name only you could use, escapes your lips like a cry.

"May I come in?" he gestures.

You grab his arm and usher him inside.

"Where have you been?" you asked in a hushed voice, looking over him.

"Here, there, everywhere," he answers, leaning back against the closed door. "Spent a little time in nowhere too."

"I've been so worried about you! I haven't heard from you in months. I know that's the job, but it's been so long without a sign or anything. I was afraid something happened to you. I didn't know what to think," you say all at once.

"I know, I'm sorry. I'll explain everything, I promise. Just, let me look at you first," he says, gazing on you softly, "Wow. How is that possible?"

"What?"

"How are you more beautiful than the last time I saw you?"

You feel your cheeks turn red, but it doesn't keep you from pointing a finger to his chest.

"If you think being a smoothie is going to get you out an explanation, think again, buster."

He wraps his arms around your waist.

"Fair enough," he nods, "It's still true though. You're even prettier when you're angry."

"I must be stunning then," you smirk.

He brings his hand up to lift your chin, leaning in close, "Incredibly."

The waning space between you vanishes as he captures your lips. You lean into his touch, savoring every sensation you'd missed so much. From the warm, smokiness of his scent to the gentle scratch of his beard on your skin. When he finally pulls away, you're nearly breathless.

"Why don't you make yourself at home, stranger?" you propose, composing yourself, "You want a drink?"

"I wouldn't say no to a beer," he replies.

"Coming right up," you say, turning towards the kitchen, "They feed you in 'nowhere'? I got half of a leftover sub here, and some really leftover pizza I can nuke in the microwave."

"Tempting, but I'm good for now, thanks. Just the beer," you hear him say as you grab two bottles from the fridge.

"Good call, honestly. We can just order take out or something."

He doesn't respond, and it immediately catches your attention. You grab the bottle opener from the drawer and make quick work of the caps. With a faraway look in his eye, he stands on the other side of the modest island that separates the kitchen area from the living area. You extend the bottle towards him, and even when he takes it from your grasp, he's barely shaken from his silent reverie.

Too worried to imbibe, you set your own drink down on the counter. "Court, what's wrong? I can tell something is bothering you."

He takes a drink, which is followed by a long pause.

"Do you remember Fitzroy's niece, Claire?"

You nod. "Of course. Is she alright?"

"She is now," he sighs, setting his jaw, "Fitzroy is gone."

"What?" you say, rounding the island to be at his side.

"It's a long story, but some bad people got ahold of Claire to get to him, because of something that I did. We took care of it in the end, but...he didn't make it."

He takes another hefty drink and puts down the bottle.

"Court, I'm so sorry," you say, touching his arm, "I know how much he meant to you."

He turns to face you. "He did. Now Claire has no one, except me. And that's what I came here to talk to you about."

Your pulse quickens at the seriousness in his voice.

"Her and I have been on the run the past couple weeks. Staying ahead of Carmichael and his goon squad."

"Wait, you escaped the agency?" you ask, shocked.

"Didn't have a choice after they tried to use her as leverage to get me to keep doing their dirty work. I got her out, which means I'm out too, for good," he confirms solemnly, "I've found a place for us where we might actually have a shot at a normal-ish life."

You stare at him wide-eyed.

"What are you saying?"

"I'm saying...I'm all she has left. She needs me. And I need you," he says, gently rubbing your upper arms, "Before, I couldn't give you the life you deserved. But this could be my second chance. I think I might have finally gotten to the top of the hill, and I want you there with me."

"Oh Court, I don't know..." you hesitate, mind reeling, "I don't know anything about raising a kid."

He grins. "Neither do I. We can figure it out together. I mean there's gotta be a manual or something, right?"

You can't help but snort at the idea. Just as more protests are forming on your tongue, he gives you a look so disarming that you forget the words entirely.

"Come away with me, Y/N."

He takes your hand in his.

"It won't be easy, and it definitely won't be perfect. I know I've got no right to ask you to leave everything behind. But I've loved you from the very beginning, and I will protect you with everything I have."

His vow brings tears to your eyes. He laid his heart bare, and in doing so, he'd banished the last of your meager doubts.

"Well, when you put it that way," you say.

You grab the collar of his jacket in your fists and pull him into a kiss. He hums in pleasant surprise and laces his fingers through your hair. After another heated moment of rediscovery, you at last loosen your grip and surface from the embrace.

"Is that a yes?" he chuckles.

"It is," you answer, your smile becoming nervous as your thoughts turn to the future, "Do you think Claire will like me?"

"Oh, don't worry, she's going to love you," he smirks, letting you go and walking over to the window. "Honestly, I'm not sure I'm going to survive you two. This was probably a bad idea."

"Now I really I can't wait to meet her," you tease.

Your amusement fades, however, as you watch him part the curtain and cautiously peer up at the surrounding rooftops.

Dread stirs in the pit of your stomach.

"How much time do we have?" you ask.

"We should probably get you packed up," he says over his shoulder.

"Really? I thought we'd at least have tonight. Are you being followed right now?"

"Not yet. No one knows about this place. But the longer I'm here, the greater the possibility that changes," he frowns, "I need to get back to Claire. I took a risk coming here. She can't be alone for long."

You mind begins to race as your gaze darts around your apartment and belongings. The framed pictures scattered across the walls of old friends and family you hardly see suddenly meant more than anything tucked away in the safe beneath your bed. But could you even take them? Would having any ties to your old life be too dangerous?

Old life. The thought makes your head spin.

"This is happening so fast," you say as you rub your temples, "I never thought I'd just leave everything. I don't even know what to take with me."

"Hey," he says, stepping back over to you, "It's alright. Listen, I know I got caught up in pouring out my dumb old heart a minute ago, but you don't have to do this, Y/N. If you want to stay, I understand."

"No, I'm coming with you," you deny, "I want to be with you, no matter where we have to go. I've never wanted anything more. You have made it to the top, Court, and I wouldn't miss the view for anything."

All this time, you had been the only refuge in the world for "Sierra Six". Now, more than ever, he was becoming yours.

He kisses your forehead softly and smiles down on you.

"How about we just start small, and go from there. Baby steps. Like, maybe a suitcase?" he suggests.

"Sounds good," you agree, "Guess I don't need to pack the kitchen sink for wherever we're going?"

He snickers, "No, we have one of those. Got one in the bathroom too. We even have a toilet."

"I wasn't expecting such luxury," you smirk.

"I mean you have to hold the handle down a little to get it to flush, but other than that," he quips.

"Well, I suppose I'll survive," you say in mock exasperation.

"We do have a TV, so that kinda makes up for it. Plus, I got queen bed all to myself. I might could be persuaded into sharing, though."

You cross your arms, eyeing his suggestive look.

"Is that so?"

"Yeah, but you'll have to sleep on top of the covers. I don't wanna get your girl germs on my sheets."

"Courtland Gentry," you grunt, smacking his arm.

You take off down the hall to your room, and he follows after you laughing.

"What? What'd I say?" he asks, knowing full well.

"Why don't I just sleep on the floor?" you pose.

You bolt over to your dresser and start rummaging through your clothes, keeping your back to him.

"Okay, you're right. That was unfair of me," he concedes.

Biting your lip, you spin around with your eyebrows raised.

He stands in the doorway, pulling a stick of gum from his pocket and unwrapping it, "You can get under the comforter."

You throw a shirt at him, shaking your head.

"Shut up and help me pack."

He pops the gum in his mouth and smiles.

"Yes ma'am."

[tac-the-unseen]

JUST READ THE COD GANG REACTING TO READER FALING AN ORGASM SO WHAT IF READER ADMITS THEY NEVER HAD ONE BEFORE?????? LIKE- NEW RELATIONSHIP??????? SORRY FOR CAPS IM ECSTATIC RN BC UR WORK IS SO GOOD🫶🫶🫶🫶🤌🤌🤌🤌🤌🤌🤌🤌

COD characters finding out that Reader's past lover(s) have never given them an Orgasm.

Am I exactly sure what Anon is asking? No, But I will persist.

I'm choosing to write this with the interpretation of Reader never having an orgasm even though they've had sex with others. (The other way I read it was that Reader just flat out never had an orgasm before, and I think that's extremely unrealistic. So we're going with that one) ALSO because of the prompt You and the guys have yet to bump uglies!

Ghost:

•Simon is a little confused "Like...None of them?"

•He takes it very seriously

•He asks you to elaborate a little more. He just wants to know if the other guys sucked (or just didn't in this case) or if you two needed to do something specific in order to please you.

•He understands if you need some kind of accommodations and will ask you what he needs to do

•You and Simon have a long discussion over what you want your first time with him to be like. He makes sure you both have a clear understanding of what's to come (ha).

Soap:

•First thing he says is “Would you like to?”

•He thinks it's a little funny but really sad too

•”Darling, you're too pretty to let subpar men just use you.”

•He immediately wants to show you how it's done and what you've been robbed off

•He asks if he can take you for a “good ol' mustache ride”

Price:

•”Young men are dumb.” He says and takes a drag from his cigar

•”But I guess it's nice to know I have no competition.” He smiles

•He does talk to you about your needs and what he needs to do to meet them properly

•He takes you out on a nice dinner date, goes on a nice walk with you, and end up with his hands wrapped around your waist taking you home

Alejandro:

•Can not stop laughing

•As soon as you tell him he erupts into a fit of giggles. He takes him a full 3 minutes before he calms down enough to hug you and pat you back.

•”You poor thing.” he chuckles and kisses your cheek. “I'll make sure to make up for all their failures, Mi querida.”

•He’ll ask you what they were doing down there the whole time. Which leads to even more laughter when you tell him.

•”But I think I should buy you a nice dinner first.” he winks

Roach:

•Stunned

•Absolutely floored

•”Like never?” He signs. You can see the horror in his eyes

•He’s got his head in hands, contemplating life. He's so concerned for you. He has to take a moment of silence to comprehend the level of incompetence the men in your life must have had.

•When he finally sits up he looks you directly in the eyes and signs “Thank God I'm good with my hands.”

Gaz:

•Slowly turns his head to look at you with his brows furrowed and confusion

•Is too shock to speak

•He gets up to pour himself some Scotch

•”How many times have you had to fake an orgasm?” “8” he proceeds to down the entire drink and pour himself another

•This time he hands it to you “You need this more than me.”

Rudy:

•He gets up and takes a lap around the house

•When he gets back he pulls you into a hug

•”You deserve so much better, Mi Tesoro.”

•Kisses your jaw and runs his hands down your back. “I can give you so much better.” He tells you in-between kisses

•He offers you himself until your properly satisfied, for however long that takes

König:

•”Why do you like incompetent men?”

•He means it in a genuine way, But he accidentally reads you to filth.

•”Why spend your time and affection on someone who cannot please you?” he asks. “I didn't want to seem shallow.” You replied. “Shallow? Liebste, No.”

•He practically scolds you for allowing such men into your life. It's actually the most you've ever heard him speak. Which really tells you how upset he is.

•”You're Lucky I'm here. I will not let such things happen ever again.”

•And fuuuck, he means it

Mace:

•”Other men are filthy animals.” he tells you like it was a normal thing to say

•He gets in close to you and rests his arms on your hips. “Don’t get me wrong, I'm a man whore.” He laughs lightly and kisses you “But you knew that.”

•He asks you for all the funny details and thinks it would make a decent bonding experience.

•He tells you about his less than great sex stories and failures

•”Rest assured sweetheart, I'm a pro at making people scream.”

Thanks for reading <3

(I realize now that I wrote them all in different mindsets of this prompt... Good luck with that, I guess)

[xmencompletionistgirl]

Alright, I guess this is my "yap about the Fall of the Mutants" post? This is my first major milestone completed while I'm running this blog so I'll ramble for a bit. This isn't really an event in the traditional sense, like, none of the X-titles actually cross over in meaningful ways other than a member of one book learning about the goings-on of another book via the news or something. So there isn't a grand narrative to comment on, the connecting thread is thematic, I guess. It's really just a glorified status quo change-up, which all events are in theory, but it doesn't actually really have the crossover element of the event which is kind of the selling point, so??? either way I'll talk about each book one at a time

(Uncanny X-Men #225-227)

May as well start with Uncanny. Shockingly, I don't have a ton to say. I think it was fine, but not amazing. Tbh I feel like Claremont's writing falters a bit whenever he's writing about 'end of the world' type stuff on a cosmological scale. The Phoenix Saga is great, but beyond that when he does these 'end of the universe' things it's all very similar, like a mini-Phoenix Saga repackaged. He's in love with these sweeping concepts of the world being in balance, very New Age, and he gets sort of lost in it. I don't have a great way of articulating it, though, and I'll save some of my deeper thoughts on his writing for a big fat Claremont era post once I finish his run. Some cool visuals anyway, and I'm glad that Storm has her powers back. We'll see where the 'world thinks the X-Men are dead' stuff goes, but I'm guessing it's not going to last very long.

(Power Pack #33)

X-Factor, also fine. Also not a ton to say. It was probably the weakest of the 3 overall, but not for lack of trying. I just find these early Apocalypse stories kind of dry? They aren't really saying much with his character, at least not yet. Not a fan of the 'dumb Beast' stuff either, no idea how long that last. I hope this leads to a power reset with him and getting his blue fur back, I really don't like looking at hairless Silver Age Beast. That being said, thank GOD X-Factor as Mutant Hunters era is over. Jfc what a bad concept. Simonson did her best to salvage it but you can physically feel her grating against the concept with every issue she writes. I feel so bad for her for inheriting Bob Layton's mess.

Oh I almost forgot; I hate Caliban in this?? Like, I really don't buy his turn to Apocalypse at all :( Probably the only part of this event that made me a bit irritated.

Every non-X-book tie-in was related to X-Factor, for some reason, also. It's really the only part of all of this that feels like a big event, but it's downplayed. Power Pack and Daredevil all the clear standouts. Really good. Pictured above, the Power Pack issue does a phenomenal job of selling the scale of it from a kids' perspective. Everything is on this incomprehensible scale and watching this giant rectangle of a spaceship knock into stuff in New York really sells how big of a threat Apocalypse is. And Daredevil is an on-the-street version of that, moreso focused on how New Yorkers react to this battle and think that the end of the world is here. It's a very human story and I really should read Nocenti's Daredevil run sometime, it seems pretty good.

The Fantastic Four tie-in was painfully average and the Captain America one was awful. Avoid them lol, they are very mired in their own continuity. Luckily I was familiar enough with the F4's history that I caught on quick, but they are in a VERY weird era here. No Reed or Sue, the Thing is in his pointy rock-skin era, She-Thing just got made, Doctor Doom has been ousted from Latveria... just madness. As for Cap, it's more comprehensible but it's just not very good. They're in the John Walker era and Steve has been forced out of the role (and is wearing USAgent's future costume), but he and Falcon and... *checks notes* Demolition Man a.k.a. D-Man and Nomad-but-not-the-Steve-Rogers-one,-the-Jack-Munroe-one (alright?) go and stop Famine from destroying a fuckton of crops in Nebraska or something and that's it, that's the whole tie-in. No mention of X-Factor iirc. Really weird book.

(New Mutants Vol. 1 #60)

And now, the New Mutants. Once again the BEST X-Family book. I'm a New Mutants girlie, I will stan them until my dying breath and that is THAT. I have so much to say. The book is great, Sunspot and Warlock are back, and the falling out with Magneto and the death of Doug actually sells the event!! It really feels like only they go through a status quo change worthy of the name 'The Fall of the Mutants'. It's a fairly average adventure for them to start with, and there's a bit too much fixation on a fairly uncompelling villain for my liking, but at the end of #60, a switch flicks. Doug dies in a really brutal, unceremonious way. He's just shot by the villain of the arc and that's it. He's dead.

(New Mutants Vol. 1 #60)

(New Mutants Vol. 1 #61)

I love. LOVE. Watching Illyana go demon mode on these guys. No notes. Please more of this before she's uh, out of commission until like 2007 lol.

(New Mutants Vol. 1 #61)

And then #61 is mourning. Everyone lashing out at each other and Magneto... being Magneto, ultimately pushes everyone away out of fear. I don't think my screenshots can capture it, it's really great stuff. (Also, that panel of Illyana crying about pretending to be a normal kid while sitting next to the body of her dead friend? Art.)

(Uncanny X-Men #227)

I almost forgot about this, but in Uncanny #227 we get a checkup with Kitty and Kurt, who are back! The sigh of relief I let out omg. I didn't even realize how much I missed them or how long it's been. Excalibur soon!!!!

Overall, it was alright! I'd say it's a step up from Mutant Massacre at least, which I thought was a bit all over the place. Events were a new concept back then though, and very clearly an editorial mandate, so I guess that's to be expected. I'd say read it if you're a Claremont era fan or an event completionist, but otherwise, eh. Not terrible, not mindblowing.

Except for New Mutants. That was great. Did I turn my Fall of the Mutants post into a New Mutants shill post? Yes I did and I won't apologize

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Blurred Lines 5

No tag lists. Do not send asks or DMs about updates. Review my pinned post for guidelines, masterlist, etc.

Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as noncon/dubcon, power imbalance, and possible untagged elements. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.

This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: Your relationship with your boss takes an unpredictable turn.

Characters: Nick Fowler

Note: He is a baby, we know it.

As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me.

Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!) Please do not just put ‘more’. I will block you.

I love you all immensely. Take care. 💖

You were married with a bouquet of sunflowers. Your mother hated them. You didn’t care. Nothing about your wedding was typical or traditional. Just in the backyard with a belly full of Josephine already growing. 

You have a similar bunch of yellow petals in hand that day. As you come to the headstone, you see a bottle cap on the corner. Joey must have come before she left town and had a soda with dad, like old times. You lay the flowers down and groan as you lower yourself to the grass. 

“Hey honey,” you rub your hips, “ugh, getting old sucks.” You sigh and stare at the letters of your husband’s name. “Wish you were around to realise that.” 

You laugh sardonically as a tingle of tears threatens behind your eyes. You sniff but don’t let them free. You still cry for him but now isn’t the time. It was easier to let it all out when he was around to make you laugh. 

“So, did Joey tell you everything? She always gave you more secrets than me. Did she tell you about the girl? Of course she did,” you tut and shake your head. “She won’t even tell me her name.” You look down and twist the blades of grass together. “You would be proud. I know you are. She’s going to be a lawyer.” 

You quiet and let the silence mull. You flick the tips of the green blades and let out another heave. You don’t want to ruin the visit by talking about work. 

“You remember when she decided to show up? I didn’t even know my water broke and you went and slipped in it...” you pause and touch your eyes. Stop. “And the grocery store thought you were going to sue.”

You cackle through the wall of tears, threatening to topple. I had to drive to the hospital because you couldn’t sit or stand straight.” You click your tongue as you remember, “but you were there. You say in that wheel chair and shared my pain. And my joy.” 

Your cheeks wet and you curse your heart. 

“She’s a great girl. No, a great woman. I love her so much,” you mop your face with your sleeves. “I love you.” 

A breeze stirs and ruffles the long petals of the sunflowers. You stare at the brown centres. You’re back standing in the backyard, his hand around yours... Then it’s gone and you’re back in the dirt. 

You sit a little longer. The first year after the funeral, you didn’t come back. You couldn’t. Then it got easier. It was a comfort, not a fear.  

“Well, you know, I'll be back. I always needed you around to keep me accountable, huh,” you get to your knees and your lower back buckles. “I wish you were here to tease me and call me old. My back.” 

You stand and stretch. You touch a kiss to your fingers and touch the headstone. “See ya round, stud.” 

You take your time leaving. The cemetery is beautiful, contrary to its purpose. The grass is green and well kempt, the stones are lined up perfectly, and the paved walkways wind through like a fairytale road. 

You come to the gates and feel the void return. Right there in your chest. You exhale and face the world. Alone. 

You dig in your purse, looking down as you fight to untangle your keys from the cheap wired earbuds you use for your walks. You lift your chin as you come up to your car and stop short. You barely keep a frown from creasing your face. 

Nick leans on your car, arms crossed, watching your approach. How did he find you? Maybe you should have checked your phone. 

“I called,” he says. 

“Sorry, sir, I was busy,” you shrug. He doesn’t seem impressed as his cheeks dimple. 

“Your contract is on-call,” he insists. 

You take another breath. Why is he here? You don’t get how he found you. Well, didn’t he say that’s part of his job? He can know everything if he wants. 

“You dismissed me, sir, so I thought--” 

“I didn’t fire you. I was out of town,” he pushes his shoulders wider. 

“Understood. I’ll go right over--” 

“Did I ask you to?” He unfolds one arm and shows his palm. 

You shake your head. He’s still in a mood. You’ll let him get it out. You do not good assuming his intentions. 

“So, who were we visiting?” He asks. You wince. 

“Sir,” you answer bluntly. 

He huffs, “fine. Doesn’t matter. I don’t got time to argue with a maid.” 

So why are you here? The retort is bitter as it stays on your tongue. You’re not easily flustered, you do your best not to get annoyed, but he’s managed to tweak your nerves. 

“I have a thing. Need a suit.” 

“I brought clean ones the other day, sir--” 

“New suit. It’s work. Big guys are gonna be there.” 

You don’t mention that his last ‘work event’ unfolded like a frat party. It’s not use arguing. You just need to do your job and then you can go home. Just be grateful you aren’t sprucing up your resume. 

“Right. Where would--” 

“There’s a place down the block. You have an eye for detail.” He interject. 

“Oh, okay, sir. I’ll go get you a suit--” 

“You’ll come with me,” he stands straight, dropping his arms. 

“Yes, sir,” you shove your keys back in your purse. 

He stares at you for a moment before he moves. He pivots on one sole and you follow after him. He keeps a lazy pace so you catch up. You walk in silence. 

You glimpse the tailor’s shop. The windows display a group of mannequins dressed in varying states of  work casual to formal. A particularly svelte female form wears a satiny silver gown with a slit to the thigh. 

He steps ahead of you and opens the door. He waits for you to go ahead of him. As he follows, you feel a brush against you and quickly move out of his way. A man with a groomed mustache greets you from behind the counter. 

“Sir, Madame,” he sweeps around in a three-piece suit, the vest cute in elaborate floral, “how can I help you today?” 

“A suit. Work dinner. Black tie.” Nick states. 

“Of course, short notice?” The man asks. 

“Tonight.” 

“Ah, we can meet that deadline, for a fee.” 

“I’m not worried about cost,” Nick turns and browses the mannequin nearest him. “And my date will need something to wear.” 

You stand as you are, glancing around in disinterest. As you turn back, you find the tailor staring at you. Nick continues to peruse the selection. 

“Who’s your date, sir?” You ask, thinking it might be the woman from the other morning. 

His brows arch as he looks at you, “she’ll need her measurements.” He flicks his fingers in a lazy point. You blink and shake your head. You? 

“Of course, madame, would you prefer the privacy of a fitting room?” 

“Oh, I don’t think I’ll need all that,” you insist. “I have dresses at home.” Buried somewhere in your closet. 

“You do,” Nick insists as he feels a brocade jacket between his thumb and index. 

“Um,” you peer around. You can’t afford any of this. “I could give you my size,” you offer the man. 

“Go with him.” Nick commands, “stop trying to control everything.” 

“Sir?” You look at him in desperate confusion, “I could call that woman--” 

“I don’t need some ditzy barbie, I need someone with maturity,” he sniffs. 

Ah. That’s it. No, that’s not it. It doesn’t make sense. Mature? Sure, but a bit over the hill. 

“Go,” he snips. 

You don’t chance another act of resistance. It’s not in your contract but you’re not worried about the terms and conditions in that moment. You’re worried about a paycheck and keeping your daughter in college. You can’t let her down. Or your husband. 

You follow the man around the counter as he takes you the women’s section. He walks you along a rack and stops to consider you. He smiles and curls the tip of his mustache. 

“You have beautiful colouring,” he praises. That’s sweet. You’re sure he can’t think of anything else to compliment. You’re not built like one of his dress forms. “A plum would look marvelous.” 

He turns and reaches to pull a swath of fabric forward, the hangers clacking together. He shows you the chiffon eagerly. You examine it with dread. It will show all your lumps and bumps. 

“Do you have anything... thicker? Stiffer?” You wonder. “I do like that colour.” 

Are you really going along with this? You glance over your shoulder as the tailor searches the rack. Nick’s eyes meet yours and he tilts his head. You stare back for just a moment before he turns to look at his reflection and tug on the lapels of the shiny blue jacket. 

You know what he’s doing. He’s making a point. You overstepped in some way and he’s putting you in your place. He’s showing you that he can make your job harder. He can make you work. Any way he wishes. And he knows, you need the job. 

You understand all the questions now. He was getting leverage. He was doing reconnaissance. 

This will be a lesson. A reminder for you. After tonight, you will know you are just the maid. You will know where you belong. A worn out old woman sweeping in the shadows. 

“Madame, it is velvet,” the tailor draws your attention back to him as he shows you the gown. You can’t see much of the detail but the fabric will bolster you better. 

“I’ll try it,” you agree. 

“Bonne,” he remarks in French. He is an eccentric character. 

He leads you around to the fitting rooms. He hangs the dress for you and steps out to let you shut yourself in. You can’t remember the last time you went dress shopping. There’s not need for it. 

You figure out how to step into the dress. It’s tea length, just above your ankles. You don’t mind the length but oh, the top. You’re about to spill right out. The deep vee shows quite a bit of cleavage, the small strap holding it together rather precarious as your tits swell out. And the back is almost entirely exposed. 

“Madame, are you well?” The tailor calls through. 

“Uh, I think a different neckline--” 

“Get out here,” Nick demands curtly. 

You cringe and look at your reflection. Jesus. This is the lesson here. The humiliation. You are beneath him. 

You face the door and steel yourself. You push back the latch and ease open the door. You step out, keeping your chin set and your gaze distant. 

“Oh, madame, that is wonderful on your figure,” the tailor steps forward, “and it fits you...” he gives a smooch to his fingers. “Look at the hips, sir.” 

Your cheeks burn and you dare to look at Nick. You’re mortified to find him staring back, exactly where the tailor emphasizes your curves. His brows draw up thoughtfully and he tilts his head. You want to cover the vee down your chest as his gaze creeps up. 

“Hm,” Nick hums. “put it on the bill.” 

[verysanebsdfan]

ᴄʜᴀᴘᴛᴇʀ 𝟷: ᴛʜᴇ ᴅᴀʏ ᴡʜᴇɴ ɪᴛ ᴀʟʟ ʙᴇɢᴜɴ

The Perfect Equation: The day when it all begun

Ishigami Senku x fem!reader

masterlist tpe masterlist

<previous ・・・・・ next>

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

"On that day...every human on earth...turned to stone!!"

・・・・・

"Listen up, Senku!!" Taiju bursts into the school lab. "There is no stopping me! It's gotta be today!! After five long years of having feelings for Yuzuriha...I'm gonna confess my love." He yelled out loud, startling everyone besides Senku, who was even remotely close to the school laboratory. It would not be surprising if Yuzuriha heard him from wherever she was; hopefully not. Even so, it would not change much since his feelings are quite clearly not one-sided.

"Hm...Interesting, very interesting." Senku exclaimed and turned around to face the loud boy. "I'll be cheering for you so hard from here in the science lab that my vocal cords'll snap." The male said, clearly not thrilled. It is not like he does not care for his friend; it's just that the outcome of this situation is quite obvious.

"Oh yeah? Thanks, Senku!" Taiju yelled, too loud, again. "Silence. I won't cheer even one millimeter for you, you big oaf." The scientist retorted. "Wait, so which is it?!" Taiju exclaims, to which a young girl standing opposite of Senku sighs. "Don't worry, Taiju, I will cheer for you." She says. "Oh, thanks (Name)!!" the brown-haired boy immediately responds to the female's encouragement.

"A fool who takes five whole years to say anything is the epitome of absurdity." Senku says, to which Taiju retorts, "You are no different," leaving the girl accompanying them confused.

"Allow me to provide a method so rational it'll kill you," Senku says as he turns for something. "Quite literally..." (Name) mutters with a small smile because she saw what her friend was reaching for. "This will send your pheromone production into overdrive. Basically, it's a love potion." Senku turns back while grinning menacingly. "Your success is ten billion percent assured if you drink this!" He hands it to Taiju.

The male was staring at it; you'd think he was actually considering it, but then he spilled the contents of the flask into the nearby sink. Was it good, spilling it into the sink? Probably not, but they have filters, or at least you think they do. "Thanks, Senku, but... no thanks! I can't go and cheat my way into her heart." Taiju says and leaves the laboratory with a confident but scared smile. And (Name) quietly cheers him on.

"Was that really a love potion, Senku?" A member of the science club calls out, and the girl chuckles.

"Of course not. It's just ordinary gasoline. Me and (Name) produced it from plastic bottle caps." Senku answers the question, uninterested. "Just think about the atomic structure of polyethylene, you fools! It's merely long gasoline molecules chopped up by a few hydrocarbons. Simple enough to understand," he explains, although it does not seem to have the desired effect since most of the club members seem to not understand.

"It's actually done in commercial plastic-to-fuel plants. By heating plastic in the absence of oxygen, you can break down the long hydrocarbon chains in plastic into simpler hydrocarbon molecules, which include components of gasoline, among other things. The process is called pyrolysis." (Name) adds not only some cool info but also their confusion.

"So...Taiju would've died if he drank it?" The same club member who inquired about the existence of a love potion earlier asked the obvious question. To which the seemingly only capable members of the club nodded. "He would not drink it." The girl shakes her head. "He is too honest for his own good."

・・・・・

"I bet you 100 yen that he'll get totally rejected." Said one of the guys watching Taiju's confession.

"Five hundred says she'll reject him." Another says, albeit I do not see any other difference in their bets besides the amount of money.

"Put me down for a hundred." Another voice calls out.

"Ten thousand yen says she'll accept him, contrary to expectations," Senku says, looking too smug while buying a drink from the vending machine, and the girl, who always seems to accompany him, nods along while sipping her (favourite flavour) milk.

"Hey, Senku..." She looks at the horizon. "What is that?" She says as Senku notices it as well. Neither of them knows what it is, but either way, Senku pushes her behind him, still keeping her close.

・・・・・

"It's so cold, and I can't feel anything. Did I die? No, that's unlikely; dead beings have no brain activity... Maybe it's my last seven seconds? I don't think that's true, either. It has to do with the light. Or maybe it's the afterlife? Well, if it is, it sucks!! I imagined it to be some nice place where you can at least interact with other people!! Ah, I miss my friends...Taiju and Yuzuriha were outside when it happened, I hope no natural catastrophe comes. Well, I don't think the old school building would protect us any good, too, so..."

"You should not let your consciousness slip away, but it has been so long. Humanity must find a way to help you, right? Or are you really- no!! No way!! After all, your friends, especially Senku and Taiju, would not give up. Both for different reasons, of course. Taiju for the reason of confessing his love for Yuzuriha, and Senku possibly for survival? No idea. Seems like the thing he would do."

"I wonder how long has it been. Feels like a really long time, but I have nothing to entertain myself with, so time really does feel like an illusion. I hope there are only a few people in this state, Someone might take care of my cat..."

"I cannot let my consciousness slip away. What if I don't wake up?"

"I'm so tired... and feel so, so cold..."

"Maybe a small nap won't hurt..."

"It will hurt!! Get a hold of yourself. Count equations, name the elemen

・・・・・