#I hope you get off work surprisingly early and make it home without having to wait in traffic

[skinreflectsthesun]

You look really pretty! I hope you have a good day!!! 🥰

An anon after my own heart, thank you 🌸 I did not try, unless we count taking a shower as trying, which honestly we should 😂😂

[lovelivision]

THE COMPLEX ✧₊

𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆: fushiguro toji/reader

𝐖𝐂: 9.7k

𝐒𝐔𝐌𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐘: after you catch your ex cheating on you in your shared apartment, you run into your mysterious neighbour. surprisingly, you find a friendship in him you weren't expecting. he's especially handy in helping you put together your new bed frame

𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒: 18+ only, smut, swearing, cheating (not by reader or toji), flirting, dirty talk, cunnilingus, p in v sex, mating press, dacryphilia, fingering, multiple orgasms, slight overstimulation, creampie, cum play, tease!toji, f!reader

Coming home after a long day of work is something that should bring you joy but as you cross the threshold of the apartment you share with your boyfriend; you know something is wrong. The abrupt cut off of what sounded like moans followed by frantic shuffling doesn’t give you much of a chance to think the best of him.

Already knowing what’s coming, you begin looking for your suitcase you have stored away. Checking the linen cupboard in the hall first and pulling it out, dragging it behind you when your – soon to be – ex-boyfriend leaves your shared room.

“You’re home early!” He looks nervous, like he can’t tell if he’s been caught or not yet. He’s about to say something else when his eyes flick to the suitcase you pulled out of the cupboard, “Going on a trip or something?” The chuckle he lets out is awkward and off-putting.

Ignoring his question, you walk past him wordlessly, pushing towards your bedroom, you just want to pack as much of your shit as you can manage and get out of here.

He rushes to get in front of you, stopping you from entering the room, “Why won’t you say anything?”

“What do you expect me to say?” You look at him with nothing but apathy, giving him no chance to pull a fast one on you, “You want me to scream? Cry maybe? Beg you to tell me all the dirty little details?”

“I expect you to care at least a little bit! Ask me why, how long, anything!” His voice raises at you, like he has any right to be mad.

“Those kinds of questions give you hope that I’ll stay,” your hand reaches for the door handle behind him, “And I have no intention of staying,” walking forward in spite of him blocking you, forcing him to either move or stop you.

Acquiescing, he lets you pass him. There is no shock when you’re confronted with the half-naked girl in your bed, the bed you bought – he can keep it. It’s also no shock to see she’s someone your boyfriend works with, what was it again? His work wife? No matter how many times you mentioned that her clinginess and his unwillingness to set boundaries made you uncomfortable he never did anything to make you feel better.

Maybe if you had been paying more attention to him, if you hadn’t checked out of the relationship months ago, you would’ve been able to stop him from cheating. Then again, if you have to stop someone from cheating they aren’t worth your time.

You’d consider saying something to her but there isn’t anything that wouldn’t be a waste of breath, not when she’s sat so smugly wrapped in your favourite sheets. She’s proud of herself and you just can’t seem to comprehend why, the prize she won is some loser who was willing to cheat on his long-term girlfriend.

The suitcase in your hand is thrown onto the bed haphazardly, she startles at the bounce in the mattress, like you were going to hurt her or something. That’s something you find amusing, smile small as you tug open the zipper calmly.

Your boyfriend follows you around the room as you pick up all the necessities you can fit, “Are you seriously just going to leave like this?”

Without looking at him you answer, “Yeah.”

“Why won’t you even try and fight for me?” He sounds desperate and angry.

Pausing, you look him straight in the eyes, “Because I don’t want you.”

“No wonder he cheated on you,” his work wife scoffs from the bed, finally pulling herself out of it, rushing off to the bathroom to change. The speed in which she leaves the room after her comment almost makes you chuckle, like she’s still scared you’ll hurt her.

“Don’t you love me?” He pleads, ignoring her comment.

Instead of answering, you turn it back on him, “Did you love me while you were fucking her?” You don’t wait for his reply, going back to your suitcase.

“Of course I did,” he cements, like he means it, and hell maybe he does but just because he means it doesn’t change what he did.

“Why are you so surprised?” You pull the zip closed and tug everything off the bed, looking at him in exasperation, “I told you that cheating is a deal breaker for me, it always has been, and it always will be, so stop acting so incensed or like I blindsided you with this reaction.”

He glares at you harshly, like he’s the wronged party here, “I thought you would care more.”

“You thought wrong,” it’s taking a lot to continue this façade of indifference, and while you certainly don’t feel as effected as some would, it still hurts, you’re still livid, but mostly you’re tired.

“I never realised how much of a cold-hearted bitch you were,” his tone is cold, words cutting through you sharply.

Sighing at him, you say, “I’ll come back for the rest of my stuff later this week, if any of it’s missing or damaged I’ll be calling the cops.” Grabbing your handbag, you walk to the front door, suitcase rolling behind you, “Just in case this wasn’t clear enough, I’m breaking up with you.”

“You haven’t even let me say anything,” he’s almost frantic, like he’s stunned by your verbalisation of the breakup. “Wait, don’t leave! We can talk about this can’t we?”

Pulling the door open, you don’t look back, “There’s nothing to talk about.”

Your steps in the hallway of the building are rushed, worried that he’s going to follow you. Finger pressing into the elevator call button quickly like that will make it come quicker. It opens just as the door to your apartment does and you feel your heart rate spike, thumb slamming into the ‘door close’ symbol.

Foot tapping impatiently on the floor as you wait for it to reach the lobby, hoping you get there before him. The fact he can switch so quickly between calling you a cold-hearted bitch and begging you to stay is chilling, just who were you living with for all these years.

When the elevator dings you’re so caught up in your thoughts that you jump slightly and then you haul ass, going for the front door before thinking better of it. If he really does intend on coming after you then it might be better to go out the back.

The back of the building is a grimy alley and while you’d really rather not go back there, you’d really rather not run into your ex more, so grimy alley it is. It’s a struggle to open the door with your handbag on your shoulder and suitcase in your other hand. You manage it though, it’s just unfortunate that when you start down the steps you stumble slightly as your suitcase wheel gets caught on one of the stairs, your handbag falls to the floor as you struggle to catch yourself on the railing.

You’re pissed off and grumbly as you pull on your suitcase forcefully, “Just my fucking luck, God, what an awful fucking night. These stupid fucking stairs, always hated it back here–”

A short chuckle sounds from behind and it scares the hell out of you. Spinning around quickly and placing a hand over your racing heart, you see it’s just your neighbour. You’ve seen him in the hall a few times, never saying more than a friendly hello and quick nod of acknowledgement.

He seemed polite enough, you would’ve gotten to know him better, but your ex had told you to stay away from him. Making claims like he was dangerous and bad news; you don’t know if you ever believed him, but he clearly felt some type of way about you being friendly with him, so you kept your distance. Mostly out of respect for your relationship and your partners boundaries but that’s a little bit ironic now, after tonight.

Your neighbour is all too amused when he apologies for obviously frightening you, “Sorry, doll, didn’t mean to scare ya.”

Turning your back on him and leaning down to your bag, you acknowledge his apology, “It’s fine,” you’re trying to be polite but you’re still in a foul mood.

“Need any help?” He offers when he sees you struggling to put everything back in your handbag. Head tilted as he checks out your ass in your tight work skirt before realising he’s staring and looking away before you can notice.

“No.” You answer without looking up, though it comes out harsher than you mean for it to, clearing your throat lightly, you add, “No, I can manage, thank you though.”

His tongue clicks, “What are you doing in this alley, shouldn’t you be going out the front?”

Without missing a beat, you turn the question back on him, “What are you doing in this alley?” Finally standing and raising to look pointedly back at him, handbag placed precariously on top of your suitcase.

Wordlessly, he takes a drag of the cigarette you hadn’t noticed he was smoking, blowing the smoke off to the side, away from you. His smile too big when he notices how your expression twists in slight embarrassment when realising his very obvious reason for being back here.

“You gonna tell me why you’re back here or are you going for some kind of mysterious woman vibe?” He’s glib, annoyingly so.

But attractive, in an irritating kind of way, the kind of way that pisses you off because how dare he be that hot and also be looking at you like that.

Your reply is straightforward, “It’s not a mystery, you’re just a stranger.”

“Cranky little thing aren’t ya?” Smirking to himself when he mentions your bad mood, like it’s so funny.

That pisses you off, you were trying so hard to be polite to him and while you were failing, you were trying, “Listen here mister ‘I’m so handsome I can get away with being an annoying asshole to strangers–’.”

“–Toji.”

You fumble slightly, taken aback by his interruption, “What?”

“That’s my name,” he looks pleased with himself for throwing you off. It’s like he’s trying to win an award for annoying you.

Frowning, you brush him off and continue on your mini tirade, “Right, well, I have had an especially foul evening and the last thing I need after walking in on my boyfriend cheating on me, is some dick telling me I’m awfully cranky. I think I should be crankier actually!”

He huffs out an amused breath at your frustrated rant, “Normally you give your name back after someone’s offered theirs.”

You squint at him, scrutinising his person. Hesitating in answering him but ultimately you give him your name, not seeing the harm in it.

It’s like he mulls it over, smiling to himself before saying unprompted, “A damn shame to see you go, doll.”

“I’m so sure,” you snark back.

Taking a step forward, you go to leave the alley, but he speaks again, “I got one question though…”

Stopping in your tracks, you turn to face him properly, hand propped on your hip, “And what’s that?”

“Why are you the one leaving?” His head tilts at you.

You don’t know why, but you decide to answer him, “It was his place first,” you shuffle from side to side, “Plus I’m not particularly fond of the fact that they’ve potentially fucked in every square inch of that place…”

He barks a short laugh at your statement, “You know… if you were my girlfriend,” he leans in towards you, “I wouldn’t cheat on you.”

“Yeah that means so much to me mysterious neighbour who I’ve never spoken more than a few words to in passing,” you deadpan back at him.

There’s an entertained look on his face as he eyes you up and down, grinning to himself before taking another drag of his cigarette.

Your foot taps impatiently while you wait for him to say more, he looks like he wants to say more but the longer it takes him to talk the more you’re not fully convinced he has anything to say. Puffing, you turn to walk off, only to get stopped by his words, again.

“You got a place to stay?”

Your brow raises at him, “Yeah… I do.”

He shrugs, “That’s too bad.”

“Stop flirting with me! I literally just found out my ex of many years has been cheating on me,” frown prominent on your face as you accuse him adeptly of hitting on you.

His shoulders shake with a chuckle, “The first time I’ve gotten to say more than a few words to you in passing, just making the most of it.”

Something clicks for you, “Now I see why my ex didn’t like you very much.”

“And why’s that?”  He’s smug when he asks.

“He’s insecure and you’re very clearly a flirt.”

Unbothered, he answers simply, “Not usually, you just so happen to be my type.”

You click your tongue, caught between shocked and completely unsurprised by him, “Awfully blunt aren’t you?”

Toji smiles at you as he takes another drag, blowing the smoke away quickly, “If you want someone there when you’re picking up the rest of your shit from that jackasses place, feel free to knock on my door,” he follows up his statement with a wink, dropping his smoke and stomping it out. He’s walking to the door, adding, “Stay safe out there, doll. I’m looking forward to seeing you again.”

How presumptuous of him, he’s such an ass, and just as you go to tell him as such, he’s closing the door and presumably going back up to his apartment. Your face scrunches as you think of all the things you could’ve said to him and at the things you shouldn’t have said to him. He didn’t need to know all about your relationship like that… tonight just keeps getting worse for you.

At least you wasted enough time that if your ex did follow you down like he seemed he was going to, he’s probably left by now.

✮.

Staying with your friends is uncomfortable, they’re dating and happy and you’re sour about it. Their displays of affection are prompting you to get into motion though, finding a reasonably cheap place to live fairly quick. Fuelled by nothing but bitterness and a sickening feeling like you’ve wasted too much time with your ex.

The next step is going back to that apartment and collecting more of your valuables, having left behind a bunch of things that would’ve been too much of a hassle to grab in the moment. Taking a day off work and borrowing your friends’ car is the move, aiming to go while the place is empty.

It’s still going to be a bit of work moving stuff from the apartment down to the car and your friends can’t take the day off to help. As much as you feel uncertain about it, you might ask Toji for help, he offered after all.

By the time you’re finally heading back to that apartment complex it’s been a few days, not having felt ready enough to come back any sooner. It’s funny how everything about the building is the same and yet you feel so different about it all now, it doesn’t feel like home anymore. There’s no warmth here, just another cold place that one day you’ll pass and not feel a tug in your heart over.

Nerves run through you as you stand in front of Toji’s door, uncertainty sitting heavy in your chest. Maybe he wasn’t genuinely offering, or what if he’s busy, or what if he’s not even home. You’re stupid, you didn’t even consider that he might not be home today, feeling flustered you ultimately don’t knock on his door.

Entering your now old apartment feels odd, most of your stuff is still here but you feel detached from the place. Amazing how a few days can change your outlook so drastically. Thankfully it doesn’t look like he touched any of your things, though you never really had all that much to begin with.

It was his apartment first and a lot of the furniture is his or was bought by the two of you together. Aside from the bed but that’s just because he didn’t want to pay for a new one. If you’re being honest, it never even felt like your place. You lived here and you called it home, but it doesn’t look lived in by you. After a while you stopped trying to buy trinkets and decorations for the place, he never seemed to like them. Always leaving you feeling like it was his place first and a shared home second.

You guess, at some point, it stopped being noticeable but as you stand here now and look through your belongings, you’re realising you really do not have all that much. Whatever you take will hardly make a dent in the large ocean of his belongings, poetic in a way. You’re a small part of him but he was a large part of you.

Grimacing at your own thoughts you move on, not wanting to start feeling those emotions in fear of crying. Instead sourcing the boxes you kept from your initial move in, you tape them back into shape. It’s been so long they look weak and old; time has not been kind to either of you it seems.

On your trips back and forth from the apartment to the car, you pointedly ignore Toji’s door, not wanting to linger on thoughts of him either. It embarrassing that you told a stranger that much about your life and then was willing to have him help you move out. Though he had big arms… he’d probably be really helpful.

This whole thing is taking longer than you thought it would, your arms growing tired from each trip. As you look at one of the few boxes you have left, you wonder if it’s even worth it. Most of what’s in these are clothes or the few decorative trinkets you own.

No, he doesn’t get to keep any part of you. Not the parts that were solely you anyways, he can keep those fucking sheets. Picking up the box, you trudge out the door for what feels like the billionth time. Not able to help the frustration in your steps as you stomp out into the hallway.

Just as you’re about to pass by Toji’s door, your box splits underneath and your things spill out. Thankfully it only really has some clothes in it, but you clearly overfilled it, too heavy for the poor old cardboard. Letting it drop to the floor; all you can do is look at the pile of clothes.

A deep sigh pulls from your lungs and your eyes brim with tears, you’ve yet to cry about this all but your box breaking feels like the last straw. Fighting your tears off desperately and failing as they drip down your cheeks.

Your voice is small when you mumble a tiny, “I hate everything.”

A hand on your shoulder makes you jump, apparently out of it enough to not hear someone leave their apartment and approach you. Maybe you shouldn’t be surprised when you look and see Toji, but you are, feeling a little confused at the small amount of relief that runs through you at seeing him.

His tone is careful when he asks, “You okay, doll?” Like he’s actually worried about you.

And maybe it’s because he’s the first person to properly ask you that, or because his hand is warm and large against your shoulder or maybe it’s just because he’s here, you move to hug him. Realising now just how alone you feel, desiring comfort from him.

He doesn’t push you back, instead he wraps his arms around you and lets you soak a portion of his shirt in your tears. A kindness you don’t think you’d expect from someone who looks – or quite frankly – acts like him.

Mumbling in his shirt, “Sorry…” Before pulling back, “I’m okay… sorry.”

“You apologised twice,” he notes.

“Sorry…”

An amused look on his face at your third apology, his thumb reaching up to wipe at the tear on your cheek before speaking again, “Your box broke.”

“I know, it made me cry.”

“Don’t cry over spilt clothes.”

Somehow that poor joke has you cracking a small smile, “Very wise of you.”

“I’m full of that shit,” he moves for your box, letting all the clothes spill onto the floor, “Wisdom.”

“You sure you’re not just full of shit?”

“Ah there’s the girl I met the other night,” Flipping the box upside down, he scoops up your clothes and shoves them inside again.

Realising he’s picking up after you, you tell him, “I can do that.”

“I’m sure you can,” he picks up the box easily, resting it over one forearm as he moves for his apartment door.

“Hey! Where do you think you’re taking my stuff?”

“Finders keepers,” his tone even.

“Hey?!” You call after him, following him into his apartment.

It’s a mirror image of yours, furnishing a bit boring but befitting of what you assume is a single man. Toji drops the box of your clothes onto the floor by the front door, pushing it off to the side.

His words interrupt your snooping from afar, “How many more boxes you got?”

“Uh, only a couple,” you blink up at him, still lost on what’s he’s doing.

He hums at you, “Come on.”

“What?” You’re then following him back out of his apartment and over to yours, he walks in like he’s been invited. Flustered and confused as you hurry along behind him, “Toji, what are you doing?”

“You used my name,” you can hear the smile in his voice, “Almost made me blush, doll,” he teases back at you.

Purposefully not indulging his flirting, “Shut up, why are we over here?”

“Grabbing the rest of your shit, put it at my place before that dick gets home,” he stacks the last two boxes on top of each other, smaller than the box that had your clothes in it. Picking them up with ease, he walks past you, “Could ya get the door for me?”

Mindlessly, you open the door. Why is he doing this for you? “Toji–”

“Do a once over and check you got everything,” he nods back at you, “Don’t take too long though, he gets home from work soon.”

He walks off before you can say anything, so you decide to do what he said. Checking the apartment all over to make sure you got everything you wanted, you were right earlier, your stuff barely made a dent. When you’re satisfied you’ve got everything, you go to walk out the front door, pausing at a note taped to the wall by it.

Not noticing it with your view being obscured by large boxes every time you walked by it, that and you’ve been a bit distracted all day. It’s obviously written by your ex, you’re half tempted to just ignore it but you’re nosy and want to know what he’s said.

It reads a simple: ‘please don’t leave me, it was a mistake. I love you’. Underwhelming to say the least, it doesn’t even move you. If anything, you feel pissed the fuck off. How dare he spit a bunch of bullshit, you’re not stupid, the day you caught them was certainly not the first time they’d fucked here. It was written all over that woman’s face, she was smug, like she’d finally got what she’d wanted by you finding out.

For a quiet moment, you consider writing something back to him, or burning the note, or even just ripping it up. But you’re choosing to leave it there, maybe he’ll wonder if you saw it and maybe he’ll always be unsatisfied as to whether or not you’d have stayed if you had. Maybe he doesn’t deserve closure, maybe he deserves nothing more of you.

You’re getting bored thinking about him, this relationship had already been on its way out, you just didn’t have the guts to leave him for seemingly no reason. Pretending like you didn’t see his shitty note, you lock up the place and take the key off your key chain. Slipping it under the door before walking over to Toji’s.

Looking at his door, you consider if you should knock or walk in. It feels wrong to enter someone’s home unannounced though, even if they did kind of hijack some of your belongings and stash them in their house. Feeling too uncomfortable to simply walk in, you knock, waiting patiently for him to open it.

When he opens the door he leans against the frame of it with his forearm, “I left it open for ya.”

“It’s rude to enter without an invitation,” you say obviously.

He points out, “Didn’t stop ya earlier.”

“You stole my clothes!” You defend.

A chuckle leaves him, “Get in,” he holds the door wider for you.

Pausing, you check first, “You’re not gonna kill me or something are you?”

“A sweet lil’ thing like you?” His smile is big and flirtatious, “Wouldn’t dream of it.”

“Don’t you ever get tired of yourself,” rolling your eyes as you walk past him and into his apartment.

The door swings closed behind you, Toji watching you shuck of your shoes, “Nope.”

Standing up and turning back to him, you mumble a small, “Thanks for helping me… and sorry… for crying on you.”

He pouts at you in thought, a hum leaving as an acknowledgment of what you’ve said. “You want some tea?”

You’re taken aback by his sudden offer, “Oh… uh… sure, that’d be nice.”

“Sit wherever,” he waves his hand around aimlessly at the few seating options he has.

Cautiously, you navigate around his apartment, unsure of yourself in here. You’ve only just met him and he’s being so kind, the fact he’s a stranger a more obvious fact when you’re in his home. You hesitate for a moment before taking a seat on his couch, gazing out the window while he clanks around in the kitchen.

Finding yourself wishing you’d put more effort into knowing him, he seems kind, though with how he flirts with you it’s probably better you didn’t. His footsteps are padded as they approach you, his slippers dragging against the floorboards. The tea he’s made for you is placed on the coffee table across from you, along with another he’d made for himself.

With no grace, he flops down beside you, his head leaning back against the couch. He doesn’t seem to have very good manners, his frame spread wide, sitting closer to you than most people probably would.

After a moment, he comments, “All the furniture was still in that place.”

You guess he’s referring to your apartment, “Yeah…”

“Gonna have an empty new apartment.”

“Yeah,” you reach for your tea, “It’ll all be me though.”

His head turns to look at you, “I’d like to see it.”

You smile into your mug, “You trying to say you wanna see my new place when I move in?”

“I think I should be the first person to see it.”

Taking a quick sip, you place the mug back down on the table, still a bit too hot, “And why should you get such a high honour?”

“Because you ruined my shirt by crying into it–”

“I did not ruin your–”

“And because you’ll need someone to help with all your new and big furniture,” he smiles at you like he knows he’s right, all smug and attractive.

Being serious for a moment, you enquire, “Why are you being so nice to me?”

“Isn’t it obvious,” you shake your head at him and his smile grows, “I’m hoping to get into your pants.”

Your face pulls up at him and you push him away by his shoulder, “You’re pathetic.”

“Yeah, but you’re hot and single,” he barely moves at your pushing.

You continue to frown at him, “You have to help with my furniture now, after being so lecherous.”

You’re only joking but he answers as if you weren’t, “Whatever you say, doll,” he smiles arrogantly, like he knows he’s won you over, even if it’s just a little bit.

✮.

The new place is nice, smaller than your last but it’s a good size for you. It’s only been a few days since you moved in though, so your ‘bed’ has been a mattress on the floor and your living room has a sad looking bean bag instead of a proper couch. It’s strikingly bare in here but it’s all yours and you get to decorate to your hearts content, you just wish you had the funds to buy to your hearts content.

Your first big purchase has been a bed frame, deeming it the most necessary. A couch will probably go second and then a place for eating and a desk and… there is so much more furniture you need. Things that can all wait, nothing will bring down your mood. You’re feeling good, your bed frame came today and you’re going to put it together and have the best sleep ever tonight.

…

Premature optimism will be your downfall, you felt pretty good about assembling this altogether yourself. But now after having tried to put this stupid bedframe together for an hour or maybe more all the confidence you had in yourself has been drained. Sitting on the floor of your bedroom, instructions and bits of your bed in front of you, mattress pushed up against the wall and out the way, you have been defeated.

Happy thoughts, all happy thoughts, you can have it together before it’s time for bed… surely… Maybe this is more of a two-person job, you should’ve asked for help. Checking the time you see it’s late afternoon, is it too late in the day to call Toji and ask for his help. You ponder on it for a second before deciding you’re calling him; you want to sleep in an actual bed tonight. Plus, if you don’t get it together tonight, you’ll be sleeping on the mattress out in the living room and that just feels wrong.

The line only rings a couple times before he’s picking up, “Was wondering how long it’d take ya to call me, doll.”

“Don’t be smug, it makes it harder for me to ask for your help,” you roll your eyes despite him not being able to see you.

It’s scary how accurate he is in asking, “Taking me up on my offer to help with your furniture?”

“Is the offer still good?”

“For you?” he hums, “Always.”

He may be the biggest flirt you’ve ever met, “Then yes… I’d like your help, please.”

His smile can be heard down the line, “Those are nice manners you got there.”

“Shut up, just get here,” you hang up on him and text your address, he’s going to tease you plenty when he gets here, you don’t need sneak previews.

Though you are thankful you have his number, having already exchanged short messages back and forth. Sometimes you’ve even talked on the phone with him, you get a bit lonely and it’s nice to be able to call him. He’s not overly talkative but he will listen to you carry on about nothing and you like that in a man. Embarrassingly though, you tend to bring up just about anything so you can keep talking to him for a bit longer.

By the time Toji is in your apartment, you’re feeling down, having tried for a bit after the call to try and assemble it at least a little bit before he got here and failing. The pair of you look at the mess on the floor of your bedroom, his hands on his hips as his brow quirks at the sight. You feel small next to him, humiliated by just how badly you’ve done.

His head turns to the side, “Doll… what the hell am I looking at?”

“My new bed,” you pout back at him.

“You sure?” He double checks.

You’re glaring at him, “Yes. I’m sure.”

His head shakes at you, “Should’ve just called me from the beginning.”

“Well maybe I thought I could do it myself.”

“And look how that turned out.”

You whine at him, “You said you were gonna help.”

“And I will,” he places a hand on top of your head, leaning down, “I just gotta mock you first.”

“Is it out of your system yet?”

A beat before, “Probably not.”

Ignoring him, you offer, “Do you want a drink?”

He pats your head a couple times, “Quite the little host, aren’t ya?”

Your answer is dry, “No drink for you, got it.”

A laugh leaves him at your quickness, clearly enjoying the back and forth the two of you have. “Alright I’ll have your bed together quick; I don’t even know how you managed to fuck it up this bad.”

“Unnecessarily cruel,” you note.

Throwing a smile at you, he reaches for the instructions and glances over them for a moment before letting them float down to the ground. He’s clearly confident in his ability to put the bed together.

And to be fair, he had good reason to be confident. He gets it all assembled easily, barely needing your help save for a few moments where you had to hold something. Mostly, you felt like you were just there to watch him, and you found yourself not minding at all, he looked good.

As the mattress slides into place on the new frame, he gives you a helping hand in making the bed. Putting all the appropriate linens back on, including fresh sheets. It’s beautiful, all ready for you to sleep in, to think you almost cried about this a couple hours ago. The frame itself is nothing special but you’re feeling so much joy over something so simple.

“Thank you so much, Toji,” if it were physically possible, you’d have hearts in your eyes right now.

“More than welcome, doll,” he winks at you, “Want help breaking it in?”

“Okay.”

“What?” He asks again, like he’s not sure he heard you right.

“Okay, you can help me break it in,” when he doesn’t move, you ask, “Toji?”

“Hold on, I wasn’t expecting to get this far.”

You laugh airily, his surprise cute. As much as you were serious, you don’t want to put pressure on him. Moving to walk past and offering, “Do you wanna eat instead? I can order something; I don’t think I have enough in my fridge to cook–”

Your sentence is cut off by his hand on your upper arm, suddenly being pulled into him. “Now hold on, I’m not passing on this opportunity.”

“You sure? You seemed to get a bit nervous for a second there,” you tease.

“Was taken by surprise is all,” he grins.

“Are you really sure, because–”

He’s cutting you off again, his lips on yours, breathing against you, “–You talk too damn much.”

“That’s just–”

You don’t get to finish; he’s kissing you again. It’s insistent and messy, like he’s been wanting to kiss you for too long. His tongue licking into your mouth, pulling a whine from you at how his hands grope at your hips. Looping your arms around his neck, you pull yourself up into him, craving more of him.

He’s large and warm, so sturdy as you hang off him. Such a good kisser, lips slotting against yours perfectly. The way he’s making out with you has shivers running down your spine, finding yourself obsessing over his lips. You don’t want to part from him, drunk on him and the messy way he’s kissing you.

A hand leaves your hip and grabs the side of your face, his thumb pulls on your chin, getting you to open your mouth more. He wants to kiss you deeper, he wants to kiss you so you never forget what it’s like to be kissed by him. Leading you back, he walks you both to the bed until your legs are knocking on it and then he pushes you down onto it.

“You know,” his smile is suggestive, “I think I am hungry.”

It takes you an embarrassing amount of time to understand what he means, it’s not until his hands are at the waistband of your pants are you catching on, “Oh!” You’re feeling flustered, “I– you don’t– if you want–”

“–Oh, I want,” He returns quickly. “Do you?”

“Yes…” Your voice comes out smaller than you intended.

He can’t help but snicker at how you’re suddenly so much more shy, “Where’d your sharp tongue go, doll?”

“Shuddup Toji,” you snark back.

The breath that leaves him is amused, his hands pulling your pants and panties off in one go. And then he’s a little breathless because you’re so wet and pretty, his hands are keeping you spread apart.

“Keep ya fuckin’ legs open, doll,” he grunts, “Don’t deprive me of the view.”

“How can you be so– hah–”

He drops to his knees and blows cool air onto your clit, interrupting your comment in favour of a small gasp. Enjoying the way you twitch slightly at the action, “What were you saying?”

“F–Fuck you,” you curse at him.

“You’ll get the chance, don’t worry.”

Not able to hold himself back any longer, he’s putting his mouth on your cunt. His tongue spreading your folds, licking from your hole to your clit and back down again, repeating the motions over and over. No real purpose behind his actions, just enjoying the taste of you on his tongue, relishing in the sounds he manages to pull from you. Essentially making out with your pussy, reverential in his actions.

You try grinding down into him, to guide him where you want but he’s too happy to torture you, his arms hold you open and pin you still. Barely able to rut down into him with how his arms are around your legs.

“Toji,” you whine at him, wanting more.

He ignores your call to him, too involved in how he’s lapping at your cunt, making a mess. Though finally switching things up in a show of pity, his tongue slides inside your hole, fucking you with it. Your chest stutters with your breaths and your legs fight his arms, wanting to close around his head. It doesn’t work, he’s so strong and you feel so weak with how he’s turning you into a puddle.

This may be his new obsession, making out with your pussy and refusing to let you get what you want. Your pathetic whines and fruitless struggle against his grip amuses him just about as much as it turns him on. He rubs his nose purposefully into your clit, the moan you let out is shocked and cute. The way your cunt flutters around his tongue has his eyes rolling to the back of his head.

You’re really going to let him fuck you and that thought alone makes him feel giddy. Parting from you in a messy display, string of his saliva connecting him to your wet pussy, “You wanna cum, doll?”

Blankly, you nod back at him.

He smiles evil, “Ask.”

“Toji…”

“You wanna cum or not?”

“Make me cum…” You look at him and it has your heart leaping, his face slick with you, eyes glazed, “…please.”

“‘Atta girl,” he says like he’s proud of you.

All to happily, he puts his mouth back on you. Tongue fucking you with more purpose, nose pressed into your clit. The sounds of him eating you sloppy and obscene, not that you can find it in yourself to give a single fuck. Your high approaching so much quicker now that he actually intends on letting you cum, back arching off the bed as you get closer and closer.

So badly you want to rock down onto him, you want to grind on his pretty face, but he still holds you tight. He’s so mean to you, shouldn’t he want to make a good impression. Then again, he’s making you feel so good right now, orgasm so fucking close and then he does something devious. His finger slips inside your hole, alongside his tongue, never stopping and barely giving you a chance to acknowledge it.

It feels good and you feel the slightest bit fuller and you’re cumming, so unexpected to you that you’re blindsided as you twitch and cum all over his finger and tongue. Toji groans into you, drinking down your creamy slick. Your hearing is dull and you’re involuntarily twitching in his grip, soft whines dying down as you calm.

He keeps licking at you, you’re not able to tell if he’s cleaning up or adding to the mess between your legs but with the way he’s drooling on your pussy you’d have to guess the latter. Your thighs still shake in his grip, he’s going to force you into overstimulation, that or he’s going to have you cumming again.

Reaching down, you pull at his hair, “Too sensitive.”

“Couldn’t help myself, sorry doll,” he smiles lazily at you.

Your hand drops from his hair, he’s so beautiful, all pussy drunk and horny. “Is okay.”

While he waits for your breathing to start evening out, he licks and bites at your thighs, leaving behind so many marks that you will no doubt be embarrassed about tomorrow. Right now though, you can’t be bothered to move away or try and stop him. Jerking every now and again when his teeth nip at an especially soft spot on your thigh.

When you’ve calmed down, he stands up, undressing in front of you, not minding in the slightest the way you stare at him. His dick bobs under the weight of it, all heavy and leaky, precum dripping from his tip down the length of himself. Your thighs rub together at the sight of his incredibly hard cock, caught between worried about taking him and desperate to be fucked open on him.

“Your shirt,” he points at your chest, “Off.”

Pushing yourself up, you go to take off your shirt but before you can Toji’s tugging it off himself. “Someone’s eager,” you tease.

“‘Course I am,” his hands are quick to grope at your tits, “I get to open your little pussy up on my cock, what’s not to be eager about.” He smirks, fingers pinching your nipples.

“Are you always such a relentless tease?”

“Did you expect anything less?”

“Stop– hah– stop playing with my tits,” your scold has less of an effect when you’re pushing into him and fighting off moans.

He hums at you but pulls his hands back, “Shuffle back.”

Doing as he says, you move back on the bed, sitting more centred on it. He crawls onto the bed, pushing you back onto the mattress with a hand on your shoulder. Quick to open your legs again, hooking under your knees with both hands to push back on your legs. His eyes greedy as he watches your cunt closely, grinning when you clench around nothing.

“Toji, stop being a dick.”

“You want this dick, doll,” he returns, glancing at you, “Should ask real nice for it.”

You return a sharp, “Maybe you should ask real nice to fuck my pussy.”

“You got words now, but I doubt that’ll stay the same when I’m balls deep in you,” he grips his cock and rubs his tip between your folds.

“You gotta ask, Toji,” you remind.

Without an ounce of shame, he asks, “Please, let me fuck your pretty pussy, doll. Wanna feel the way she grips me tight when I fuck her open, want her creaming on me, wanna make a real fuckin’ mess.”

“I hate you,” you huff, annoyed that his words turned you on so much.

“She doesn’t feel the same as you,” he notes, humming at how your slick drips down and coats the tip of his dick.

Whining at him, “Toji, stop being such a– hah– insufferable tease.”

“You haven’t asked yet, doll,” the tip of his cock almost pushes inside you before he moves back.

An unsatisfied breath leaving you, almost having got what you wanted, “I thought you wanted to fuck me?”

“I do, bad,” he agrees easily, “What I want more than that though…” leaning down to talk next to your ear, “Is to hear you fuckin’ beg for it…”

Sadly, your resolve is weak, and you break easily, “Please, Toji. Please fuck me, anything, just stop teasing, please.” When he doesn’t move at your pleads, you add another small, “Please.”

Breathless huff leaving him at how quickly you gave in, he wonders how you’d hold up if he weren’t being so impatient himself. Working you up over and over only to deny you pleasure at the last second, making you cry and beg for his dick. The thoughts have his cock twitching, loving the idea of your wet eyes. He’ll just have to make you cry another way.

“What kind of a man would I be if I said no after you begged so nicely?” He asks rhetorically.

Despite his tone, you answer, “A mean one.”

Barking a laugh at your reply, “Never claimed to be nice, doll.” He delights in the way your eyes grow large, worried he’s going to deprive you more and maybe if he weren’t so fucking horny he would but he can’t bring himself to. “Don’t look so worried,” he coos.

Pulling back, he waits for you to open your mouth to talk before pushing the tip of his cock into you. Your face twisting in surprise, mouth dropping open but no words coming. His breathing stutters at the tight grip of your cunt, not quite expecting you to feel so fucking good around only this much of him.

He looks down to your pussy, watching how he’s slowly sinking into you, “Don’t know h– hah– how gentle I’m gonna be, doll.”

You mumble back at him, already out of it, “Ruin me.”

A shudder runs through him at that, just about cumming in you from your small request alone, “You’re a fuckin’ dream.” He keeps sliding inside you, rocking slightly, not able to help himself when you feel this good, “If ya need me to stop, fuckin’ slap me or something.”

“Won’t want you to– hnn– stop,” you gasp back.

“If you do though,” he insists.

Nodding firmly at him, like you want him to just shut up now, “I’ll– hah– slap y–you, got it.”

“Impatient little thing, aren’t ya?”

Though he’s not much better than you, especially when he’s finally balls deep, mouth salivating as his eyes almost roll to the back of his head. Only fighting the urge so he can see your face and watch how your eyes glaze over. A sight he doesn’t regret waiting for, his dick throbbing at the cute expression you’re wearing, your cunt fucked open and full by him, your brain having trouble doing its job.

Already so cock drunk that you can’t get your bearings enough to talk, he can tell you want to though, can see the way you’re fighting yourself. He’s surprised when you grind into him, against his pelvis. Clearly unable to find the words to ask him nicely to start moving, he groans at your shamelessness, enjoying you like this. You’re greedy and he likes that.

“Cute,” he murmurs, watching your pussy bulge around his dick.

Taking a deep breath, you moan out his name. All pitched and ruined, “Toji.”

“I got ya, doll.”

He pulls back slowly, his cock dragging deliciously against your walls. Your back arches as you moan, already trying to grind back into him. Toji bites his lip at the unabashed display, so willing to be openly needy when you’re this worked up. Not even a little bit shy when you whimper and try fucking up onto him.

Giving you what you want, he thrusts harshly back into you, picking up a diabolic pace. The sloppy sounds of him fucking your tight cunt filling the room, lewd mess spilling from your hole onto your fresh duvet every time he pulls back out. A fact you’d surely be bothered by if your eyes weren’t rolling, and your head wasn’t going fuzzy at how he’s fucking you. Managing to rub up against every single perfect spot inside you, your toes curling and legs shaking.

Cruelly, Toji grabs under your legs, pushing them up and back. Leaning into the movement with his weight, folding you in half. The angle new and breathtaking as he drills down relentlessly into you. If you weren’t cock drunk before you sure as fuck are now, your moans loud, the chanting of his name slurred and barely comprehensible.

“Fuck– how are you so–” Toji’s dick spasms inside you, you’re so unbelievably wet around him. Creamy pussy making an obscene mess on him, “Feel so– hnn– fuckin’ good, doll.”

You shake your head at him, “I– ah!– can’t fff–” you give up half way through, unable to say what you wanted.

He chuckles at your inability to form a coherent sentence, heart leaping at the realisation your eyes are brimming with tears. Sitting so pretty on your lash line, adding to the glassy look in your eyes. Moans slip from him when you shed a few tears, somehow, he’s folding you even more in half. The mating press mean and firm, not willing to give you a chance to change anything about how he’s fucking you.

It’s mind numbing how he’s thrusting into you, not realising how you’re drooling over it. Pussy throbbing at the way he slides into you, the feeling of being so full and split open the only thing on your mind. It can’t feel this good, why does it feel this good? The kind of sex that has you forgetting you’ve ever had sex before. Getting dicked down so good that you can’t even think of ever wanting anything but this.

Toji notices how drunk on him you are, “Hah– Good, doll?”

“Ah huh,” you nod deliriously at him, it’s all you’re really capable of.

Skin slapping against skin fills the room, his brutal thrusts echoing throughout your barely furnished apartment. His ego growing tenfold by the stupid look on your face, your pussy leaving a creamy white ring around the base of his cock driving him insane. Fucking you is messy, and he can’t help the fact that he’s obsessed with that. Loving the way you still try to grind up into him. Failing every time with the way he’s folded you, so needy for more that it’s adorable.

You’re hot and wet and so so snug that he feels like he’s dreaming, hooked on the way your pussy sucks him right back in as soon as he’s pulling out. Taking him so well despite the way you’re struggling to fit all of him, not that you mind, so blissed out and greedy that all you do is moan and pull at the sheets.

Cheeks tear stained at this point, orgasm so close if your stuttered breaths and shaking thighs are anything to go by. He keeps his thrusts the same, not changing anything about the way he’s fucking into you harshly, building you up so quickly that you’re dizzy.

Your back arches up into him, your tits presented to him so enticingly that he feels disappointed he can’t put his mouth on them right now.

“You’re s–so cute, doll,” he compliments, “Fuck– so greedy.”

His deep voice and crude praise send you over the edge, cunt clamping down so tight around him that he struggles to fuck you through your orgasm. Cumming around him so divinely that he couldn’t stop the moans tumbling from his lips even if he thought to. The sounds he makes stick inside your head, brain foggy as you cum but distinctly picking up on the moans he lets out. Pretty and arousing, you wish he had made more sounds for you.

Even as you come down, he keeps fucking you, fervent and desperate as he pummels into you over and over. New headboard slamming into the wall loudly as he fucks you, probably has been the whole time and you’re only just now registering it. Your eyes are bleary from the tears you’ve spilt, you want to rock down into him, wanting him to finish inside you so badly that it’s a feral kind of need clawing at your insides.

It’s insane how good he looks while he fucks into you, his lips parted slightly as he watches the way he stuffs his cock back into you over and over. Abs tense with his movements, eyes lazy and blown out, body sweaty from the exertion of holding you in a mating press while fucking you diabolically. His tongue runs along his lower lip, and you involuntarily clench around him, making him moan weakly, eyes rolling to the back of his head.

Glancing up at you, his eyes look wild, “You’re so adorable when you’re crying for me.”

“Toji,” It’s pathetic and pouted back at him, mind too broken to say much else.

He groans at you, “Ohh fuck!–”

The way your lower lip wobbles so pitifully when whining his name has him blowing his load, not even expecting it himself as he cums deeps inside you. When he realises, he slams his hips to yours, wanting it so deep inside that you’ll feel him for days after. His pelvis grinds into you and you practically purr at it, the stimulation against your clit has your cunt fluttering around him.

He's so sensitive he nearly whimpers at how perfect you feel around him, unwilling to move immediately, truly too obsessed with how you feel around him. The only thing prompting him to pull back being the uncomfortable way he’s folded you in half, lifting his weight off you, he allows your legs to drop.

Eyes locked onto your pussy when he pulls out, watching the way his cum leaks from your hole and down onto your bed, adding to the mess already there from the sloppy way he’s fucked you. Compelled by greed and his horny brain, he uses his fingers to scoop up his seed and push it back into you. Fingers pushing into your cunt and relishing in the way you jump at the intrusion.

“Don’t want it going to waste now do we, doll?”

“You’re a– hah– freak,” you whine at him.

“You fuckin’ like it,” he slips his two fingers deep inside and curls them, “Bet if I hadn’t pinned you, you’d be a little freak yourself.”

Your hips grind down into his hand, apparently insatiable and willing to cum for him for the third time tonight. Needy all over again that it’s almost embarrassing how willing to be fucked by his fingers you are. If Toji didn’t seem so keen to give you what you wanted you’d probably feel ashamed of how you twitch down onto his digits soaked in a mix of both your cum.

You gasp at him, “It’s– ah!– too much.”

“See…” he grins, “…You say that, but you’re rutting down into me so needily that I’m not sure I believe you.”

He enjoys the way your overstimulated body jerks at his touch, cunt swallowing his fingers happily. The sight of your overfilled pussy trying to push his cum out only for his fingers to shove it back in making his chest vibrate with groans. His thumb rubs into your clit and you whine pathetically at him, your hand clamping over your mouth as your toes curl.

So soon after your last orgasm that you’re finishing with barely any work from him, your walls gripping him as you whimper into your palm. Thighs trembling from the force of it, you can’t even hear anything, gaze so bleary that you’re unable to see for a few moments. Toji doesn’t stop moving his hand until you go limp on the bed, your breaths heaved as you struggle to collect yourself.

When he groans, you open your eyes to watch the way he sucks on his fingers. Cleaning them of the lewd mess from the both of you, he’s smug when he sees the way he’s flustered you with his actions.

“You’re so gross,” you whinge at him.

He only laughs as he gets off the bed and ransacks your apartment for something to wipe the pair of you down with. Touch gentle as he wipes between your legs with the cloth he’s found. Despite how careful he is with you, you flinch, so sensitive that you feel like you might break.

Once he’s cleaned you enough, he flops down beside you and pulls you to him, “Think we broke it in enough?”

You consider, “I don’t know… we might have to do that all again.”

“Because the beds not broken in or because you wanna get dicked down again?”

“Just wanna see if it’s like that every time.”

“It’ll be better,” he speaks low, “I went easy on you.”

A shiver runs down your spine, taking him for his word, “Then… next time?”

“Next time,” he presses a kiss to the top of your head, “I’m taking you out on a date first.” Not able to leave it as a nice moment, he adds, “And then I’m taking you back to my place to make you properly beg for it.”

“You’re gonna kill me.”

“Maybe but it’ll feel real good,” he chuckles.

You roll your eyes at him, “Fine but you gotta help with all the rest of my furniture.”

“Doll, with the state of your bed before I came over, I almost feel obligated to,” smooth in how he says, “I don’t wanna be visiting such a sad apartment all the time.”

He’s as presumptuous as ever but you don’t feel the need to point that out to him, since he’s right and all.

𝐀/𝐍: this was supposed to be up before christmas but then i had to do things to prep for it UGH... as per usual this fic was only meant to be like... 5k maybe a little less and i got carried away hehe. anyways,, happy holidays all !!! i hope you enjoy !!! <3

[⚠︎] — 𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆: do not reupload / repost / translate / plagiarise my works © all works are the intellectual property of lovelivision

[pretzelwrites]

THE COLONEL'S INSPECTION .

summary: after being apart from caleb for months, you and tara visit skyhaven for the summer solstice festival. he has… concerns about how you spent your time apart.

warnings: nsfw (18+, minors dni), dubcon/noncon, caleb is very controlling and a little mean in this, pet names (pipsqueak, silly girl, and 1 singular ‘gege’), fingering, virginity testing, smut with plot, lowkey badafabanatomy101, extreme jealousy, inappropriate use of evol, pre-confession caleb & mc, manhandling, orgasm denial if you squint. 

characters: caleb from love and deepspace (post-explosion with some edits), afab!mc reader, and tara. everyone is in their twenties.

wc: 2.9k

author’s note: soooo this is my first fic in like ten years… i hope you all like it! i took creative liberties for dramatic effect (i.e. mc’s grandma gifting caleb her antique dining table pre-explosion.) also, this was originally written in present tense before i switched it to past tense so if you notice any typos or grammatical errors…. that’s why rip. if i missed any warnings, please let me know!

* link to part two.  

visiting caleb happened less and less often. between your work with the hunter’s association, and his work as a colonel for the fleet, there was not much room in either of your schedules to meet up. that’s why whenever you had a few days of freedom, the two of you made sure to make the best of it. this time, luck was on your side. not only did you manage to get three days off of work because a big case you were working on concluded a month earlier than expected, but it also coincided with the summer solstice festival in skyhaven— and caleb said he would be free for most of your visit. what were the odds?

being freed up from the case meant tara could tag along with you, and you immediately invited her after asking caleb. he agreed to allow this with only one condition: she could not sleepover. it was a surprisingly rude request from the typically friendly and accommodating caleb, plus it was extremely inconvenient for tara. afterall, it was the only summer festival in skyhaven. most hotels would be booked up by now, and what was leftover would probably be low quality or expensive.

and your efforts to persuade him?

“i’m not changing my mind, pipsqueak.” he said dismissively although his tone was still cheerful. his rich violet eyes remained fixated on the new model plane he was assembling while he spoke into the phone, “this home is open to family, and family only.” even if you two weren’t technically family, you understood exactly what that meant— and no amount of pleading or batting your lashes would sway him. so, you begrudgingly told tara she’d have to find a place to crash for the entire trip. your friend, always the optimist, took it in stride and even seemed to enjoy flipping through the listings of premium hotels in the city.

“ooh! Y/N, look at this one! it’s got one of those infinity pools on the roof!” she’d exclaim while shoving her phone towards you over your desk of files. a holographic 3D model of the swanky hotel popped up from her screen. it was sleek and clean, mirroring the aesthetic that decorated most of skyhaven. you smiled and nodded in an attempt to feign the same level of excitement as her, but you found it hard to. 

for some reason, there was a growing sense of dread in the center of your chest. 

two days passed by quickly, with most of the time being spent trotting through the festival with tara and caleb— then finishing the night off at the bar with tara. caleb would say he couldn’t stay long, that he had something to tend to early in the morning, but that meant you two could enjoy yourselves without him. things were going smoothly… perhaps your worries were truly irrational afterall?

the first night, you and tara had gone a little overboard and were too drunk to end up anywhere other than the hard couch in her hotel room. the second night, you were invited out to dinner by tara’s favorite artist from the festival, you couldn’t possibly say no to her desperate pleas to tag along. that meant you had to cancel dinner with caleb twice, but you swore you’d make it up to him later. 

on the third day, you all decided to conclude your last festival visit with something sweet. the local shops were selling all sorts of solstice themed foods, and this particular parlor had brightly colored frozen yogurt with the cutest sun-shaped cookie bites topped off with iridescent sprinkles. you and tara couldn’t bare to pass it up, even though caleb seemed worn out by the constant activities. 

as you stood in line to order, he leaned down to whisper at a level only you could hear, “don’t spoil your appetite, pipsqueak.”  

that sounded like a threat.

you found a small table beside the window, and the three of you settled in. you sat beside tara, and caleb took the seat across from you. right away, the table was loud with lively conversation and laughter between bites of creamy sweetness. you all exchanged jokes and tidbits seamlessly, there was barely a second to breathe between the chatting. considering both tara and caleb were social butterflies, it was no surprise they got along well. 

somehow, the flow of conversation brought you to discuss each other's silly childhood habits. tara laughed at the way you’d steal his t-shirts from the dirty laundry to mop up any spilled juice and coffee, and caleb brought up how he would send you at least ten check-in texts every time you’d go out with your friends when you were teens.

tara’s eyes lit up and she nudged her knee against yours under the table. “oh, just like that guy leonardo! there must be something about you that brings out protectiveness from guys.” she turned to face caleb, “it makes sense that you’d do that since you two are close, but i told Y/N before that it would be so weird if leonardo wasn’t cute!” 

it was like the air had been sucked out of your lungs. even though you and leo were just friends, his feelings for you were hard to ignore, and you had gone on a few dates with him. you had told tara plenty of times that your ‘gege’ was protective, and wouldn’t be fond of the idea of you casually dating someone he’d never met. regardless of how old you both were, caleb was unable to shake this role. you blinked at tara, a silent plea for her to stop— be quiet, take it back, anything other than continue talking. 

she immediately caught on to the pleading look in your eye and attempted to backpedal. “i- i mean, not that it’s- hah- he’s not anything serious, of course. h-he’s a good coworker, is my point.” she laughed nervously, and you joined her in it. the conversation at the table carries on to a new topic, thankfully, and for a moment you thought you were in the clear… until you looked over to caleb. 

it was something only you, someone who had nearly a lifetime of experiencing caleb’s personality, would be able to detect. as he listened to tara’s ramblings about the exhibit of her favorite artist at the festival, the same one you two had drinks with prior, you immediately notice the way his smile fails to reach his eyes. in fact, his typically vibrant gaze seemed to have lost every fleck of color it had. he was merely going through the motions to keep up appearances.

the feeling of dread you had managed to shake off earlier returned tenfold, and the colorful dessert in your bowl suddenly became incredibly unappetizing. it melted into a puddle of sugary goop and soggy bits of shortbread as the sun disappeared under the horizon.

it was tara who first announced she would be turning in for the night. your heart fell further from your chest when you realized that meant being alone with caleb for the aforementioned dinner you promised him, and absolutely could not back out on. dinners with caleb were always a treat, but this time…

“it was good to see you, tara.” caleb’s smooth voice interrupted your train of thought. tara smiled widely and nodded, “it was nice to see you, too! you two have a goodnight!” she turned on her heels to walk in the opposite direction towards her hotel, while you and caleb headed back to his place. 

the trip back was full of what could only be described as bizarre small talk; retreading old ground, repeating details you’d already told him over the phone months ago, and answering questions that felt pointless to you. you wanted to shrug it off, to reason that surely the man you’d known nearly your entire life didn’t deserve to be treated so suspiciously, but this wasn’t meaningless small talk. he was fishing for information, attempting to piece together just what you were up to during your time apart. when the realization dawned on you, you suddenly became concerned about how every detail would be interpreted, and your responses shortened to a handful of words at most. 

you stepped inside of the familiarity of caleb’s home, letting out a satisfied sigh when the scent of him enveloped you like a warm blanket. “mmm, it’s always nice to come back to—” your words are cut off with a loud ‘click’, the sound of the door being locked behind you. 

“i already have dinner from last night prepared in the fridge, it just needs to be heated up.” caleb muttered while pulling off his heavy bomber jacket to toss onto the couch. the fact that this was likely the dinner you two were supposed to have the night before felt like yet another bad omen. “i- uh, great! i-i’ll set the table.” it was a habit you had picked up on in your youth. a dining table full of plates, even if empty, made you feel like your family was bigger than the one you’d found. you swallow down your anxiety and quickly trot to the kitchen, walking past the old table that used to be your grandmother’s. 

when you return, arms heavy with a stack of porcelain, caleb is standing by the table with his hands planted firmly on his hips. furrowed brows and underneath that, eyes downcast and unfocused. he appeared to be locked in deep thought.

“cal—?” 

“put the plates down and come here.” 

his tone was authoritative and flat—  the same tone he used when you were caught in a lie all those years ago. that persistent dread fully consumes you as you carefully place the stack of fragile plates onto the table and walk to his side. you looked to him expectantly, fists tightly squeezed shut, waiting to get scolded for your flakiness during the trip. in a flash, he pulled you flush against his body by your wrists, wedging you between his large build and the table. “a-ah! c-caleb, what the-”

“do you have any idea how fuckin’ rude you’ve been? how much restraint i’ve had to use lately?” his bionic arm, with all of its unnatural strength, takes control of your throat and holds your back firmly against his body. your frantic wiggling only makes the feeling worse, the metal causing red patches of friction on your throat. you have no choice but to stay still.

detecting your reluctant submission, he chuckled in bitter amusement. “ah, so pips hasn’t completely lost her mind…” caleb whispered, his warm breath skating down the side of your face. “cooperate and this will be over quickly.”  his human hand snaked under the hem of your dress, traveling up your skin and leaving a trail of heat in it’s wake. his fingertips gracing the frilly hem of your panties makes you squirm automatically, despite your efforts to stay still. 

he seemed to hesitate for a millisecond before his fingers roll over your mound. “h-hey!” you gasped, your entire body freezes in shock. caleb stroked over your pussy, the only thing between his touch and your skin being the thin lacey fabric of your underwear. his breath deepens as he traces over your folds, dipping a single fingertip down the center to trace over your covered clit. 

“you know, i didn’t pull strings on that case just to share our trip with someone else, right?” there wasn’t even enough time for you to be shocked by this revelation, caleb was moving quicker than your brain could comprehend. his hand trailed from your clothed heat up your body to cup your breast, rolling his palm over your nipple and then firmly squeezing the flesh. it was hard for him to control himself for longer than a few seconds, made abundantly clear by the way he alternated between roughness and tender touches on your hardening peaks.

“and after all i did, you have the nerve to skip out on dinner with me twice in a goddamn row…”

“caleb, y-you’re being-” your voice was trembling under the pressure of his robotic hand. it didn’t hurt, but it was rough and unrelenting. 

“and who exactly is leonardo? why didn’t you tell me about him when i called? just what did you do to make him think he could check on you like that, huh? it’s my job to protect you- or are you trying to replace me?” caleb’s questions are delivered in rapid fire succession, leaving no room for you to respond or plead your case. his robotic arm released your throat, giving you a chance to glimpse the dark blue and red ripples out of the corner of your eye. a heavy weight crashes onto your back, forcing you to lurch forward against the dining room table, your face crushed into the cold antique wood by his gravity evol. you squeal in protest, but all that does is make him press you down harder. 

he quickly hikes up your skirt once more until you can feel the cool air on your rear, which only solidifies how impossibly vulnerable you are in the moment. there’s another beat of hesitation, or admiration, from him before he pulls your panties to the side to fully reveal your pussy. caleb pressed his hand to your warmth, rubbing his knuckles over your folds slowly, like he’s trying to memorize the feeling. “c-caleb, please think about what you’re doing. t-this isn’t right!” you whisper in desperation, as if he’d listen.

“i know exactly what i’m doing. i’ve just never had to resort to this.” he murmurs disapprovingly. “i used to trust that you’d tell me everything, pipsqueak.”

“i have told you every- unff!” your eyes widen from the sudden intrusion.

“hush. i’ll be the judge of that.” caleb’s middle finger, long and thick, slowly pushes it’s way deeper into your heat until it’s fully sheathed inside. “we promised to never keep secrets from one another, remember?” you are rendered completely speechless as his digit explores your most tender area, a place no one but yourself had. sliding along your walls slowly, rotating, prodding. it’s not like he was trying to give you pleasure, but rather inspecting you. sensing your shock and confusion, caleb answers the unspoken question on your lips.

“i’m just making sure you aren’t doing anything you’ll regret... there’s no reason for you to fight this if you have nothing to hide.”

caleb slowly drew his finger out and then slid back in with a second digit. the extra girth made you flinch and teeter on your toes. he watched your legs tremble from the unfamiliar pressure, your pussy fluttering and tensing around his fingers reflected both your discomfort and inexperience. “tolerate it for just a little while longer,” he urged sternly. his fingers pumped as slowly as possible, stretching your walls carefully.

caleb’s touch inside of you felt so right— blissfully so, despite it all. it was like every inch of his finger was created for your cunt, every ridge hitting you just right and coaxing out more slick from your core. shameful pleasure began to build in your body within a few pumps, which didn’t help how pathetic you felt being subjected to caleb’s control so easily. just as you were beginning to enjoy this bizarre sensation, it ended. he let out an approving sigh and pulled his fingers out with a wet ‘pop.’ 

your body was still his. 

despite not being able to see caleb’s face, his relief was palpable. his gravity evol lifted off of your body, but you still weren’t able to move. a different weight was placed on your back to hold you against the table. when two hands are planted on either side of you, you realize that he had practically collapsed on top of you.

“silly girl,” his head leaned against the back of your’s, nuzzling his nose into the depths of your hair. the cold silver of his apple necklace slid against your warm skin, sending a tingle down your spine. “you caused all this distress for no reason… do you enjoy getting a rise out of me?” caleb chided, but his voice didn’t boast that biting edge from before. his eyes fluttered shut as he took in a deep breath of your scent, attempting to still his rapidly beating heart. 

slowly, reluctantly, caleb stood up to free you from his crushing hold. your panties and dress are put back in place with a gentle touch, and although you wanted to slap his hand away, your head was spinning far too much to properly retaliate. he then turned you around to face him, revealing your flushed cheeks– one redder than the other due to the sheer force he had used when slamming you against the table, yet he didn’t acknowledge it or even look slightly regretful. 

his bionic hand reached up to fix your hair, like he often did. the artificial fingers felt strangely cold on your scalp, and not at all reassuring when combined with the heated ache between your legs. just barely in your line of sight, you caught a glimpse of his throbbing member through his denim. a wet patch of precum had formed at the tip along his upper thigh, saturating the already dark fabric with his sin. the sight of it sends a rush of forbidden excitement through you, but you quickly avert your gaze to hide your budding desire. caleb returned your timid expression with a warm smile, this time it actually reached his eyes. 

“now, we can eat.”

[0oolookitsme]

Baby, We're Fireproof

Yes bestie, you are on the right blog and yes, I did write some angst!! Hahaha hope you enjoy!

Verse - Singer!Harry x CEO!Y/n

Word Count - 2.1k

Warnings - some insane making-out at the end ;)

Harry has been writing an album, and while Y/n wants to go easy on him, she just can't adjust to his absence and the fact that he has abandoned their relationship. But Harry is quick to realise his fault and remind her that they're fireproof.

In the quiet of the night, Y/n found herself tangled in a web of thoughts, questioning her feelings curled up into a ball on the huge bed.

Harry was yet again, not home. It had been a week since he started coming home later and later. He said it was because he was very close to finishing his new album, and Y/n wasn't quite sure if he realised that whatever he was doing out there, was beginning to put a strain on their relationship.

She wanted to be mature and let him be, knowing his profession was way different from hers. But the question, 'would he have adjusted like this, for this long?' plagued her thoughts.

The corners of her eyes were moist, and she only felt smaller and smaller as the night rolled on. It was pouring outside and even though the balcony was closed, Y/n could still hear the noise, and it only made her more aware of the static silence looming in the house right now.

She wanted to stop thinking so much, knowing that she was going to reach conclusions even she wouldn't believe herself in her right mind. But when she closed her eyes, sleep didn't come and when she opened them, Harry still wasn't sliding into the bed, next to her.

But she must've dozed off amidst her misery because she woke up the next morning with Harry's body tangled with hers, with his head in the crook of her neck, one arm under her head while the other one remained draped across her stomach and his legs twisted like ivy around hers.

She was sweating profusely. So, she got right up and lowered the AC's temperature so that Harry wouldn't wake up drenched like her. Surprisingly, there was no sleep in her eyes. She felt as awake as she'd been in the early hours of the morning.

Climbing down the stairs with nothing going on inside her head, she got herself a hot glass of water with some added lemon juice and went to sit on the sofa in the living room showcasing the sunrise.

Her shoulders were tense, eyes dry and unmoving. She knew there was going to be an argument between the two of them when he'd wake up. But that's okay, because they truly needed to talk this out before things went spiralling a little too far.

She was ready to sort this out and get the tension over with, but she still had that nagging feeling that he might leave the house without bidding her goodbye, leaving behind a mere note mentioning that he loved her and would miss her in the studio, while she'd be in the shower, preparing herself to sit and talk to him.

But that wasn't going to happen today -- she wouldn't let it.

Soft pads of footsteps perked her ears up, but she didn't turn to see him. She just knew that he was rubbing his eye with a knuckle, something that she'd want to disapprove of him for and he would make the faces at her that she found ridiculously funny and had grown to love.

But then she felt warm hands press against her eyelids, closing them and a mouth breathing near the nape of her neck.

"Why are you sitting down here, hm?" He spoke rather quietly, as if not wanting to disturb the peaceful silence. But the rasp in his voice definitely punctured it.

"I think we need to talk," softly, she held his hands and lowered them so they sat intertwined with hers, upon her collarbones. "Please," she whispered, her tone begging him to listen to her and not distract her.

But he was seemingly working well because her eyelids were still shut.

"Well, we can after I have some cuddles with you," he pushed the topic under the rug, knowing that once they'd be done, the both of them would probably be running late.

"No, H," Y/n said sternly, eyes flying open as she pulled on his arm for him to come in front of her and sit. She didn't say much when he just sat on the coffee table in front, opening her legs and putting his closed ones in the space between.

"Say," he said, his eyes set on hers with a nonchalant expression, but Y/n could read the tension in every flexed muscle of his arm and the tightness in his set jaw.

Y/n took a deep breath then. The only thing easing her nerves was the earnest look in his eyes, like he was willing to sit and actually sort this out.

"Don't you think that we haven't really been spending any time together, as of lately?" She spoke just as slowly as her breathing was.

He only nodded at that, albeit little tensely, urging her on.

"I feel that that has been putting a strain on our relationship."

He was still for a couple seconds, or maybe minutes, Y/n wasn't sure.

"I feel the same, babe, I truly do feel the same."

Y/n sensed a but coming, so she didn't speak.

"But I can't really help it, not for a while," he sighed, and Y/n's gaze lost the softness that had been glazing her eyes.

"You're writing an album, and I'm willing to understand how tough and exhausting that must be, but you can't just abandon us for that," she spoke with nods and shakes of her head, her voice rising a level higher.

Harry opened his mouth to speak, but nothing came out.

"I've really been trying to be easy and not go on biting at you for not spending each breath of yours beside me, and it should've been easy but it's not because," she stopped to take a breath, one that shuddered. "Because you used to do that, and now you're suddenly not and I'm sorry that I haven't adjusted to it as quickly as you have!" Her brows rose, adding to her words like she was trying her all to make him see the point.

"And I understand if that's too much to ask from you right now, but at least speak with me or spend some time with me because this is a relationship, Harry!" She wanted to stand up and to pace around, but his hands were on her knees, and she didn't want that loss of contact.

Taking a breath to calm herself a little, she crossed her fingers with his again. "It's like we're mere roommates," she began, looking into his tired eyes, noticing his dark circles for the first time.

She didn't even know when they'd first appeared.

"I didn't realise that," he took a breath as if it was suddenly hard for him to speak. "I didn't realise that, that - that's what I'd been doing," with slumped shoulders, he lowered his gaze.

"But I -- you didn't put in any extra effort, either," he insisted, shrugging his shoulders. "You could've visited me at the studio or asked me to stay for a while longer or - or, I don't know!" He finished frustratedly, flailing his arms.

"Oh?" She said before thinking, then took a long breath. "Alright, I agree that I should've done that. That this isn't a one sided thing since it takes two hands to clap," -- she slumped back, crossing her legs -- "but wasn't it you who left while I was bathing, not even bothering to bid me goodbye for the day? Or to send a text mentioning that you were going to be late or that you were ordering food in the studio itself?" She almost suggested.

"I'm sorry about that, I wasn't thinking straight," he said clearly, rubbing her knuckles with his thumb.

"So why did you begin kissing me and fucking me every time that I tried to bring up the issue?" She said, maybe a bit more roughly that she'd intended.

"I wasn't doing it to shut you down, the hell?" He looked as if she'd accused him of robbery. "It was just mere coincidence! Yes, I should've stopped when you began to talk but you fell into me as well, didn't you?" He was standing up now, a frown settled deep between his ungroomed brows.

"I missed you every second I spent away from you, it was you who I was thinking about constantly so pardon me if I was exhausted out of my mind and wanted to spend some time with you!"

Y/n gaze was the guilty one now. "I'm sorry, I shouldn't have said that," she accepted, her throat too dry for her to gulp.

"I just, I can't believe you'd think so low of me," he sighed. "But it's alright, okay? I know we were both frustrated and not thinking straight," he sat back down and held her hands again.

With his thumb and index finger, he softly gripped her chin to coax her eyes into meeting his. 

"Forgive me? I promise I will never write songs about you again," his frown turned into a grin, and he leaned in to hold her gaze when she broke a smile that melted into laughter.

"I hate you," she mumbled, moving to sit in his lap with her arms wrapped around his shoulders, uncaring about the risk of the coffee table holding their weight unsuccessfully.

"Yeah, I forgive you as well," he chuckled, pressing a chaste kiss upon the lobe of her ear.

"Just, don't forget me," she sighed, wrapping her legs around his waist when he picked her up.

"I really made you think a lot of things, didn't I?" He spoke like he was apologising. "I'm really sorry, love."

He was carrying her up the stairs when she pulled away from the nape of his neck to look at him. "I'm sorry too," she said genuinely, holding his gaze.

"It's okay," he whispered, opening the door to their bedroom by pushing against it with his back before he pushed her onto the bed, climbing in after her and bringing with him the blanket which he wrapped the both of them in, holding her tight against him before he whisked himself away to hold his phone.

"Let's take today off, but don't forget to bring in fresh ideas, tomorrow then!" He said into the recorder and sent the voice message, sliding his phone in his bedside drawer then and lying back down, facing Y/n.

They stared at each other for a little, before Harry broke a smile, making one crack on Y/n's mouth as well. “Baby, we’re fireproof,” he said, smugly grinning, and making her laugh. 

"Kiss me, you fool," she gritted with a scrunched nose, grinning widely until Harry hurried to seal their mouths together, the force causing her to move her head back a bit. 

His scent suddenly filled all of her senses, him being all that she could see, feel, hear, and smell. The same vanilla scent with a light hint of some cinnamon and some woody scent that she’d been missing so terribly.  

His tongue fought against hers until she gave up and he finally had the full access to her mouth. His breath hot against her skin bringing tingles under her skin, and making blood rush to her cheeks and fireworks erupt inside of her. 

Backing away to catch his breath, Harry let out a hoarse chuckle when she came forward in the chase of his lips, causing their noses to smush. Licking his lips, he looked at her mouth for a second too long, seeing a kiss she always let him steal. Cupping the back of her head, he pushed her mouth to his’, relishing in the feeling of just how down bad he felt for her. 

Slowly, he pushed her until her back was flush against the mattress and he was hovering above her, his dainty necklace resting on her neck as he claimed her mouth again, his palms slipping under his shirt that she’d been wearing and making their way around her body without much hesitation due to the map of her body inscribed among the lines on them. 

Her back arched off the bed, pressing her abdomen against his’ while his knee parted her thighs to press up against her core. And as she slumped down into the mattress, the friction between her legs had her swaying her hips for more. 

His hands grazed around her abdomen and stomach, caressing her back before he realised that she didn’t have a bra on. Groaning into her mouth, he pulled back to catch his breath. 

Still heaving, a smirk pulled the right corner of his mouth upwards. 

“Look at you, getting mad at me just because I was writing too many songs about you in the studio,” he teased, and before he could’ve taken another breath, his eyes rolled back as she pulled on the curls near the nape of his neck, and pushed him right back to her mouth once a breath or two had filled their lungs. 

[saltnsugarbear]

How about Dennis Whitaker x reader who gets flustered after Santos catches them getting cozy

I misread this and was like SANTAKER THROUPLE?????

anyways

Trinity my beautiful darling menace to Whitakers life,,, So he asks if he can start bringing you over, first of all. He approaches her about it after a surprisingly easy day shift, over the meal they just made together.

if you work with both of them, she rolls her eyes and makes a comment about having to see you guys be lovey dovey, not only at work but the peace of her own home. then she goes, "yeah whatever, they can hang around if you really want them to"

if youre someone outside of the hospital, shes like am I finally going to meet this person that you rush to the door to greet and leave before I can see them? he goes red at this, picking over his food with his fork before she nods.

either way she gives him grief about it, makes a ground rule you guys cannot fuck if shes in the apartment. if you guys are going to be in the general living space she says something about keeping the PDA to a minimum for the sake of keeping her food in her stomach.

im realizing that cozy could mean cuddling OR it could mean nsfw thoughts so youre getting both

the first is, Trinity is super chill with you being the secret third roommate and hanging out in the apartment without either of them so he comes home from a rough day shift, Trinity has had the day off and is already in bed and you're on the couch and he just,,,,,, flops down ontop of you. Santos is in her room, so Dennis kicks off his sneakers and slips his arms around you and buries his face in your neck. you let him decompress, still dressed in dingy scrubs and smelling of antiseptic. eventually Trinity comes out of her room to fill her water bottle, and when she sees Dennis laying ontop of you with your hand giving soothing scratches along his back, she makes quiet retching noises before Dennis slips an arm out and flips her off, making her grin. (hes gotten more comfortable with her, and the two act like bickering siblings in the apartment.)

now I present, Whitaker has the night shift and Trinity has a day shift so its roughly 5pm, Dennis likes to be up a little early than he needs to give his brain enough time to start functioning normally. He trudges out from his room to see you reading on the couch, not wanting to wake him before work and hoping to say good night to Trinity when she gets home. you know his routine already, being up two hours before he needs to start and greet him with a soft smile, asking if he slept okay. he nods as he comes around, sitting where your legs had moved from to make space for him.

with him next to you its easier for you to give him a wake up kiss. sometimes wake up kisses are just you softly kissing his lips and face until hes awake enough. sometimes Whitaker wakes up a little needier and he's pressing kisses to your face and chin and neck, hands setting your book on the coffee table before slipping one to hold your thigh. hes slowly gotten bolder, being the one to initiate make outs now. this is one of those times, using his free hand to open your mouth before it slips to sneak under your shirt. hes a really big fan of just kissing and um could probably cum in his sleep pants from just that anyways

hes perfectly content kissing you into oblivion, has zero rush to fuck you on the couch but is definitely rocking and hard on. neither of you know how long its been but suddenly the apartment door is opening and theres the thud of a bag on the floor.

"Seriously, Huckleberry?! On my couch?"

Trinity's exclamation makes him jump, nearly falling off the couch and bright red, tugging your blanket quickly over his lap.

this leads into a stammered question of why shes home so early and a perturbed response that Ellis came in early and Robby sent her home.

anyways Santos never let's him live that down and he makes sure to keep making out on the couch an activity strictly for your house.

[azzo0]

His World

Summary: Bakugo's teenage daughter has been acting suspicious for a while. He keeps shrugging it off until he finds her cuddled up on the couch with another boy. Let's just say he's less than happy to find out his daughter is dating Kaminari's son.

Pairing: Bakugo x f!reader

tw's: A lil angsty

Not proofread. Go easy on me <3

You yawned, scratching your bedhead, as you walked into the kitchen to see your husband, Katsuki, already making breakfast. You walked up to him, wrapping your arms around his waist, "Good morning.~"

"Mornin', beautiful," He replied, flipping a pancake onto a plate. It was fluffy, just the way you and Mizuki liked it. He turned around and pressed a kiss to your lips. Your good morning kiss. You smiled, pecking his cheek. 

You took the plates with the pancakes out into the dining room, Katsuki following behind, holding a tray with cups of coffee. You put the dishes on the table and opened your mouth to call your seventeen-year-old daughter down for dinner but stopped when she entered the kitchen, hopping on one foot as she put on her socks. 

You raised your eyebrows in amusement. Surprisingly, Mizuki had been waking up early for a few weeks now. Previously, you had to turn off all her alarms for her and aggressively shake her awake. 

"Morning, mama, papa." She greeted as she pulled her long blonde hair into a ponytail, crimson eyes shifting up to you and Katsuki.

"Someone's wakin' up surprisingly early." Bakugo commented, "Now come on, food's runnin' cold."

"Oh. I have to be at school early today." Mizuki took her school bag from a chair, throwing it over her shoulder. Bakugo furrowed his eyebrows, watching his daughter run out of the room in a hurry. 

"Oi, get yer ass back here! You ain't leaving without breakfast!" He yelled, his head snapping at you, asking you to say something. You shook your head, raising your hands up. Only a Bakugo could tame a Bakugo. 

"I'll get somethin' from outside, chill!" Mizuki yelled from the front door. 

Bakugo looked at you, baffled, "She's got the time to eat from out but not to eat from home?!"

"Maybe she's not in the mood for pancakes." You replied, taking a seat at the dining table, pulling a plate towards yourself, and pushing another towards Katsuki. 

You smiled, watching him pout as he chewed. He was just like the Katsuki you met in high school, yet he was so different. His muscular arms and torso were littered with little scars, with one big scar on his chest. It was proof of years of hero work. His hair was slowly starting to grey. When he put his head in your lap, you liked moving his hair around, counting the little grey hair. 

"D'you think she doesn't like my cooking?" Bakugo asked. 

"You know that's not the case, Katsuki." You give him a pointed look, "You don't have to be upset about it."

"I'm not upset..." He huffed. You sighed, smiling at him. He clearly was upset. You were going to add that she might have met a special someone, so that could be one reason why she was in such a hurry, but decided to keep it to yourself since you knew the reaction your husband would have. He'd flip the table over. 

"What if she's seein' someone?" He narrowed his eyes, his fist clenching on the table. You reached over, putting your hand over his closed fist. His hand relaxed, lying flat underneath yours. 

"It's possible. She's growing up, it's expected." 

"I'm sure she's got better things to do than bothering with some lame-ass guy." He confidently shoved a piece of pancake in his mouth. A drop of sweat appeared on your forehead at his sudden change in demeanour. 

Katsuki's suspicions of Mizuki going out with someone did not stop there. 

He'd just come home from patrol, sweaty and tired, hoping to take a nice long bath and then eat dinner and spend some time with his two favourite girls. He stepped inside the house, kicking his dirty boots off and padding into the living room. 

He found you on the couch, your face lighting up when you saw him. You hopped off the couch to give him a fat kiss on the cheek, "Hi, babe. How was work?"

"Ass."

You laughed, wiping a bit of grease from his cheek with a thumb, "I've already run the bath for you."

You caught a naughty glint in his eye when he turned you around, hugging you from the back, his chin on your head, stubble scratching your scalp, "Join me."

"No." 

"Why the fuck not?"

"Mizuki's home, Katsuki." You rolled your eyes. 

"It's just a bath." He teased. 

You stepped away from him, giving his chest a playful push, "We both know it will end up being not just a bath." 

"Mama!" Mizuki rushed into the living room, holding a hairbrush in hand, wearing a pretty blue dress you got her a while back, "Mama, can you do my hair?" Her eyes fell on Bakugo standing behind you, brow arched skywards. She visibly froze. 

"Where are you going?" He asked, noting how she was dressed a little nicer than usual. 

"With friends, duh," Mizuki replied, handing you the hairbrush. You brushed her hair, putting up into a neat bun for her. 

"Thanks, Mum." 

"Oi, don't forget to leave your location on and-" Bakugo began but got cut off by Mizuki. 

"And don't forget to be home before ten, blah, blah, blah. I know. You need to stop worryin', Pops." Mizuki looked up at her father as she put her heels on. 

"I'd stop worrying if you weren't dressed like you're going on a damn date," Bakugo said.

Mizuki cleared her throat, rolling her eyes. "Well, I'm not. Can I leave now?"

Bakugo moved aside, letting her leave, eyes not moving from the door until it was slammed shut. "I'm tellin' ya, she's seein' someone. And I'm fuckin' finding out who it is-" He made a move to leave after her, stopping when you put a hand on his arm. 

"Let her go, Katsuki. If she finds out you're stalking her, she's not going to trust you with anything." 

"But what if-"

"You wouldn't want her sneaking out and lying to you, would you?" 

"No..." He mumbled. 

"Exactly. Now go hop in the bath, stinky." You smacked his arm. He gave you a devilish smirk and threw you over his shoulder.

"You're gettin' in with me. Mizu isn't home now."

It was the weekend, and you were out doing groceries with Katsuki. You watched your items get scanned at the counter, making sure you guys had everything you needed. You reached to carry some of the grocery bags, getting your hand slapped away by Katsuki. He carried them all in one go, his muscles flexing in the process. 

Before going back home, he got Mizuki iced tea since he knew she liked it. He parked the car in the garage, helping you carry the grocery bags inside. 

"That's the last of it." He grunted, dropping a bag on the floor by the shoes. 

"I'll go ask Mizuki to help me put stuff in the fridge." You said, removing your shoes. You went into the living room, freezing when you saw Mizuki sound asleep on top of a boy you recognised. Kyoka and Denki's son, Ryuu. He had plum-coloured hair, just like Kyoka.

"Oi, Mizuki, come help ya ma with the groceries," Katsuki yelled, walking into the living room. He saw you standing by the couch and came to stand beside you, looking down to see Mizuki asleep with her head on Ryuu's chest. His yelling made Mizuki stir a little before she nuzzled into his neck and went back to sleep. 

You glanced at Bakugo, watching his jaw clench, his upper lip twitch in fury. You could swear you saw steam blowing out of his ears. Before you could stop him, he stomped up to the two, "WAKE THE FUCK UP!" He yelled.

Startled, Mizuki sat up upright, falling off the couch. Ryuu opened his eyes wide in confusion. He looked down at Mizuki and then at Dynamight towering over him with deadly crimson eyes that promised to skin him alive. Ryuu gulped, his face draining of colour. 

"Katsuki, don't-" 

Katsuki grabbed the boy's T-shirt, pulling him off the couch. Ryuu raised his hands defensively, trying to step away, but Katsuki had a death grip on his T-shirt, "Who the fuck do you think you are?!"

"Dad, leave him alone!" Mizuki tried pushing Katsuki's hand away. Katsuki ignored her, simply pulling Ryuu closer and narrowing his eyes at him. 

"What is your relationship with him, Mizuki?" He growled, still not looking at her, giving Ryuu a death glare instead. 

"Katsuki, leave him alone. How about we all sit and talk about it calmly-"

"I ain't talkin' calmly!" Bakugo yelled, scaring Ryuu. "Who the fuck does he think he is, trying to snuggle into Mizuki?!" 

"Dad, can you please stop?!" Mizuki gave her father a firm push. The push had little impact on him, given he was built like a tree, but the flash of hurt in his eyes did not go unnoticed by you. Mizuki freed Ryuu out of Katsuki's grip, standing in front of him almost protectively, her hand intertwined with his. "As for your question, he is my boyfriend. What are you going to do about it?" 

"Really, Mizuki. You're fuckin' joking." He glowered at Ryuu, his fists fuming, "You ain't datin' spark plug's son."

"Why do you have a problem with everything I do?!" Mizuki yelled, "I'm not a little girl anymore, Dad! You don't get to decide who I date and who I don't."

"You don't need to date some stupid boy. You know you're better than that!"

"Ryuu is not a stupid boy." Mizuki seethed through gritted teeth. She looked like she'd blast the house to bits if Katsuki said another word. 

"I-I'll take my leave so you guys can talk. I'm sorry for the trouble I caused..." Ryuu dared to pat Mizuki's shoulder and glance up timidly at Katsuki. Katsuki took a step towards him but got stopped by your arm.

"You're breaking up with him right fucking now," Katsuki ordered. 

"I am not!" Mizuki shouted, taking Ryuu's hand again, making him stay put. "What has he ever done to you?! Why do you have to act like he committed some crime? Ryuu is the most perfect and sweetest person I've met, unlike you. Why do you have a problem with everything?! When will you leave me be and stop pretending im five?! Gosh, I really fucking hate you."

Mizuki's chest moved up and down, tears threatening to spill from her eyes, staring at Katsuki, the air thick in between them. She glanced at you before she turned around with Ryuu, silently leaving the house with him.

Katsuki fell onto the couch, head thrown back, hand over his eyes. You silently sat beside him, putting a hand on his knee. He glanced down at his legs, a defeated look on his face. You cupped his cheek, making him look at you in the eye. You could see tears forming in his eyes, his nose red. 

"She said she hates me." His voice cracked. 

"Shh," you brought his face closer, kissing his eyebrow. "You know she doesn't mean it. She said it in the heat of the moment."

He let himself lay on top of you, nuzzling into your neck, arms wrapped around you. He wondered if this was karma for all the times he told his mother he hated her even though he didn't really mean it. He wondered if this was life slapping him in the face, pulling a reverse card on him. 

"You remember how old we were when we started dating, Katsuki?" You asked, running hour fingers in his hair. 

"Fifteen." He mumbled. 

"Hm. Mizu's way older and more mature than we were back then." 

"She's mature. Spark Plug's kid isn't" He propped up on his elbow, arguing back with you.  

"Are you doing this because he's Denki's kid? He's a good kid, Katsuki. He didn't even argue back when you got mad at him. He's rational, and from what I've seen when Mizu brings her friends over, he's really shy and sweet, too."

"What if he's not good enough for her. What if he breaks her heart?" He tried reasoning. You smiled, cradling his face.

"She's got her big strong papa if he breaks her heart." 

His head dipped low, pressing a long kiss onto your lips and then a little one in between your eyebrows. You switched positions, with you now lying on top of him, head on his chest, eyes shut. He kissed your hair, hand running up and down your back, deep in thought. 

As he lay there, he thought of the time when he held newborn Mizuki in his arms for the first time, immediately falling in love with his little girl. The moment Mizuki was in his arms, he swore he would protect his daughter with his life. He recalled her first footsteps and her first word, 'Da!' He thought of the time when she got her quirk, running into his legs, crying, overwhelmed by the loud noises and the recoil. 

He sighed, eyes drifting shut.

When Katsuki's eyes snapped open, it was already midnight. He felt a blanket over you two. Mizuki was home. He skillfully slipped his arm out from under your head, getting up. He adjusted the blanket over you, kissing the tip of your nose. Light on his feet, he went upstairs, standing outside Mizuki's room. 

He cleared his throat, knocking on the door, "Hey, kid. Ya in there?" 

He was greeted by silence. He turned the knob, opening the door and peeking inside. There she was, lying with her back to the door, pretending to be asleep, blonde eyelashes fluttering on her cheeks. He crept up to her bed, taking a seat on the mattress, the bed sinking down with his weight. 

He leaned over, tucking a few strands of hair behind her ear. He put his forehead on her head, "I'm sorry, Mizu. I know I was an ass." He murmured.

Mizuki lay on her back, crimson eyes shifting to her father. His eyes, the same colour as hers, almost pleaded with her to talk to him. She sat up straight, putting a hand behind her neck, looking down. 

"It's alright... I'm sorry, too. I didn't mean anything I said back then." She felt her father's arms wrap around her shoulders, pulling her closer. In his strong arms, she felt safe. Even though they often fought and argued, she adored him. He meant the world to her. 

"I'll break up with him." She said. 

Katsuki pulled away from the hug, shaking his head and taking her hands, "No. If he makes you happy, you can date him." 

"What's the point if you're not happy about it?" 

"I'll be happy about it as long as he keeps you happy." He held her face in his hands, looking into her eyes, "But the moment he breaks your heart, I'm breaking his legs, and you're not stopping me." 

He watched a shit-eating grin take over her face, scarily looking like him, "If it ever comes to that, I'll join you." 

"Atta girl." He smirked. Mizuki threw her arms around his neck, hugging him tight. Katsuki smiled, holding his daughter closer. 

"I love you, papa." She mumbled. 

Katsuki held himself from crying right there and then, "Love ya too, Mizu." 

Katsuki held Mizuki for a while longer, enjoying this rare moment of peace with his daughter, running his hand through her long hair. He felt a pair of eyes on him and glanced back to see you leaning against the doorframe, arms crossed across your chest, a soft smile on your face. He held an arm open for you to join him and Mizuki.

You crawled into bed, kissing Mizuki's cheek and then Katsuki's jaw. He pulled your head on his shoulder, his arms wrapped around you two. 

While you and Mizuki slept peacefully, Katsuki stayed awake, his heart brimming with love and bliss. Lying on the bed with his world in his arms, he wondered what he did to deserve you two. He considered himself the world's luckiest man. 

[ahotmesswithprivilege]

Never Alone

paring: Bradley Bradshaw x female!IC!reader (callsign Nike )

wordcount: ca. 6,7k

synopsis: When you wake up on Saturday morning you feel surprisingly well-rested and calm considering what happened at the restaurant last night. That is until you realise that you are in a stranger's bed wearing clothes that are not your own and you are pulled into someone's chest. What the fuck actually happened last night?

note: Here we go. Part two is finally here and it's longer than the first one. I hope people are still enjoying my Rooster debut. It's self-indulgent AF and I had a great time writing it. So far I've planned the outline for part three to finish off their story nicely. But until then, much fun with Part 2.

And you know that navy inaccuracies are a given with my stuff, but this time I went a bit more ham than usual. The role of IC (Incident Commander) is existing in crisis and natural disaster management but fuck if I know if some work for the Navy. I made all of that up for the sake of the plot. Don't like that, please skip this one. And last but not least, yes this is yet again very self-indulgent stuff and it will get only worse with the next part, so if you don't like it, click off 😘

A huge thanks again to @mynameismckenziemae for the nudge into Rooster's direction for this plot and thank you to @vermillionwinter for listening to my rambling and giving me feedback. Without her, this would still be rotting away in my drafts.

Trigger Warning(If I forgot something or you want me to add to the list, my inbox is wide open. You are responsible for your media consumption, so proceed with caution, you know the drill): plus-size!reader, military/navy inaccuracies, non-canon (not even sure if this is canon compliant so, take that as you will), self-deprecation, cursing, verbal abuse (not from Rooster); mental health talk ( trauma; dissociative episode; suicidal ideation), written by a non-native speaker

|| Masterlist ||

Part 1 || Part 3

divider by @sweetmelodygraphics banner by @firefly-graphics gif by @theartofimagining13

!!!Minors do not interact! I block blank blogs/without age/Minors!!!

When you wake up the next morning you feel... well-rested and oddly comfortable. You haven't slept this well in forever, a warmth filling your body and a comforting weight that pressed you into the mattress. Closing your eyes once more you try to drift back to sleep. Waking up meant that he would surely knock on your door again and you just didn't have it in you to deal with him. After last night you are not even sure if you could deal with him ever again. His booming voice is still ringing in your ear. One would think there is a day when you get used to it, but sadly for you, that day never came. "Lay still, beautiful. It's too early to wake up", you hear a raspy voice whisper in your ear before a face presses into your neck and you feel something scratching over your skin and a leg being thrown over yours.

What the fuck happened last night? You remembered getting up and storming out of the restaurant. You still hear his voice echoing in your head but after that, it was blank, no matter how hard you tried to remember. You had assumed you went home, got into bed and... Your breath quickened as you looked down your body. You wore a jersey you had never seen before and had your fingers entangled with a large, strong hand that rested on your stomach. Brother in Christ what had you done?

Breathing through your nose you try to make each breath a little longer in the hopes to calm your hammering heart that threatened to break free from your ribcage. You feel the way his hand is squeezing yours as his lips press a kiss to your shoulder. "I hear you thinking, Nike", he whispered and now that the person behind you seemed a little more awake, voice less husky and more normal, you finally realised who was lying behind you. Bradley fucking Rooster Bradshaw. You were in bed with one of the Lieutenants that you worked with on the regular. Wonderful. Congratulations for fucking up even more spectacularly than you ever did before. This warrants a fucking award.

Even with the man practically wrapped around you, you turn around, his hand still holding yours when you are searching his face for any indicator of what happened last night. His eyes are closed, his hair messy and his skin shimmering golden in the morning sun. You had never quite realised what a beautiful man Lieutenant Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw is. Closing your eyes to clear your head you take another deep breath before you finally find the bravery to talk. "How did I end up in your bed, Bradshaw?"

His eyes are suddenly open wide when he hears your question. You didn't remember? He was pretty sure that you weren't drunk, so whatever you experienced had to be bad enough for your brain to shut down. "I found you in front of the Hard Deck. You were in really bad shape and asked me for a place to stay", his soft brown eyes are searching yours, lifting the hand you are still holding up to his chest. You are nodding slowly. In your state, your brain had apparently classified the Hard Deck as a safer space than your own home. Considering that he had keys to your place, probably not the worst idea you ever had. "You were terrified to be alone...", if someone would ask him, he'd mark up the fact that he presses a soft kiss to your palm to still being caught in a sleepy haze. "Makes sense", you murmur, brain wrecking to fill in the blanks that you had, but there was just an endless void.

He wants to ask you what happened but he worries the question would open the Pandora's box anew and pull you back into the abyss. So he decided to wait, knowing that if you deemed him trustworthy enough, you would tell him. Pulling your hand from him you sit up in the bed, your eyes are taking in the room for the first time and you cannot help the chuckle falling from your lips when your eyes land on the boxer-clad bedside lamp.

For Rooster losing that close contact with you felt wrong, almost painful. Your warmth in his arms had been so good, feeling the way you pressed your back against his chest was so right and the way your head tilted a little to the side to make room for his face in the crook of your neck so he could indulge in the sweet kisses he pressed to your skin made his heart soar. Fuck even the fact that the arm that you had rested on was still numb was perfect. When he hears you chuckle his heart skips a beat, eyes following your gaze, a pink hue spreading over his cheek and neck when he saw what he had used to dim down the light last night. "Oh fuck" And then he hears your laughter, making him turn back to you with a smile on his lips as bright as the sun. Seeing you last night had left him feeling powerless and defeated, unable to really help you or make you feel better. To know that at least for now you were doing better meant the world to him. "The bathroom is..." "Right through that door. Your dress is in there too, but I'm sure I'll find some shorts around for you to wear" There is a short flicker in your eyes before you look down at your hands. "Don't sweat it, Rooster", you get up from the bed and walk straight through the door without looking back at him.

The moment you got out of his bed he had to force himself not to stare at your ass that was barely covered by his jersey. It had to be some primal part of his brain but to see you wear his clothing turned the warmth in his chest into a fucking wildfire. Shaking his head he searched for a pair of sweatpants he placed on the dresser for you before he left for the kitchen. He had to do something, anything really to distract his mind from the images that it was conjuring up. You in his jersey, getting under the shower. Fuck he had to get his mind out of the gutter and fast. And if there was one thing he was good at to compensate for these carnal kinds of cravings, it was cooking.

Rooster made good on his promise and actually found a pair of sweatpants that were probably more than oversized on him but clung to your thighs and ass like a second skin. You had stared at your body in his bathroom mirror for a solid 5 minutes trying to decide whether the jersey was sufficiently covering the mess or if you had to ditch the comfy stuff for your dress. The mere idea to get back into the corset made your stomach churn so you just hoped he wouldn't mind your less-than-flattering outfit. At least he didn't say anything when you entered the kitchen, the table already filled with all kinds of delicious things. Pancakes, biscuits, scrambled eggs and toast.

"Wow", is all you can say and when he turns back at you with a smile on his face and pan in hand, the bacon still sizzling in the cast iron he makes you stop in his tracks. Wow indeed. Rooster looked drop-dead gorgeous with that muscle shirt and the grey sweatpants sitting low on his hips. How the fucking hell could you have missed that in the almost 7 years you worked with the man? "Perfect timing. Bacon is ready" He walks around the counter and puts the pan in the middle of the table next to the eggs before he pulls out the chair for you. "Thanks, Rooster" "My pleasure, Nike"

Sitting around the kitchen table with Rooster felt weirdly domestic and you couldn't even really remember when it had been the last time you did something as mundane as this. Just sit there and eat with someone and talk. No critisising, no yelling. Just an enjoyable conversation with the occasional laughter or a chuckle here and there but as pleasant as it was, last night was not really letting you go and as much as Bradley wanted to distract you and give you a chance to focus on something lighter and more enjoyable, he knew that your brain worked 24/7 and it wouldn't let something as big as an incident that caused a dissociative episode slide.

"You want me to tell you what happened last night?", he hates to disturb the comfortable silence between you but he can see in your eyes that even though you act relaxed, there is a part of you that cannot let go and maybe getting more puzzle pieces could help you with that. You didn't ask because you feared you'd destroy the magic of the moment, but with Bradshaw offering, you realised how occupied your brain was with that question so you just nodded. "I was about to leave the Hard Deck with someone when I heard you cry" "What happened to your date?" "Wasn't a date. Just a tag chaser." "What happened to her?" "Probably got herself another set of tags when I decided to get you home" You instantly feel bad. Hook up or not, Rooster had ditched someone else to get you to safety, staying the entire fucking night by your side and doing whatever you asked of him. "I'm sorry about that" "Don't, be Nike. It was for the better. She had a pretty weird idea about consent", he's shaking his head and you tilt yours a little to the side and arch your brow in confusion. "She took your distress for a fucking couple. I don't want someone like that in my bed", the scowl on his pretty features hits you to the core. You had always taken Rooster for one of the truly good guys and there was a part of you that couldn't help but feel glad that you had been right about him. "Once she was back inside I picked you up and carried you to the Bronco", the moment the words were out of his mouth your skin heated up. It was a shame fucking shame you couldn't remember... and then you realised what he just actually said. "You picked me up? God Rooster, you could have hurt yourself", you start chastising him and he looks up from the bacon and eggs on his plate with a raised brow. Did you really just question his strength and capability while he was sitting in front of you in a muscle shirt showing off his biceps and shoulders? "Nike I get my paycheck for being in top shape. I handled weights that are more than you... ", he starts and when his eyes find yours, it hits him. This is not about you not trusting him. It was about you thinking you were...

"You get your paycheck for flying a multimillion-dollar navy asset, Bradshaw", you correct him and his mind struggles to catch up to the conversation for a moment. "Semantics. If I fly that jet I have to be in perfect shape, so no. Carrying you to my car is no big deal and neither was carrying you from my car to the bedroom... ", he adds seeing your eyes widen in shock before you avert your gaze and bite down on your lower lip as if that could stop the wobbling before you let out a heavy sigh and whispered. "I'm so sorry you had to" There is so much shame on your face and that made the fury he had felt last night come back. Apparently, he had to add the person who made you believe that you weren't absolutely fucking perfect to his shit list, right after the person who sent you straight into an anxiety attack.

"Listen Nike. I don't know who made you believe otherwise, but let me tell you one thing. You are a goddess", he sees how you are shaking your head while blinking away the tears that are shimmering in your eyes. "You don't have to be nice, Rooster", you whisper and the pain he hears makes him wanna snap. Not at you, oh no, but those little dipshits who gave you as much as an impression that something was wrong with you. He's usually not one for a bar brawl but for you, he'd be fine with breaking a nose or two. Right now though all he can do is make you see how perfect you are. So he's leaning over the kitchen table and places his hand gently over yours. "So you think we named you after a Greek goddess for shits and giggles?", you see him in the corner of your eye and feel the warmth that is radiating from the hand that is holding yours. God you wanted to believe him. You wanted to believe him so bad but decades of mocking and harassment had left scars that weren't so easy to ignore. But there was a sincerity to the way he spoke. It wasn't like he was getting anything out of lying to you. Rooster had opened his home for you, gave you a place to stay when you needed it most and he had been nothing but supportive and kind the entire time.

You turn a little to the side and you see the way the corner of his mouth is raising and his chocolate-coloured eyes twinkle with mirth. You cannot help but smile back at him and the moment he sees it, he feels like he just won one of his greatest victories. "There she is", you kick him playfully under the table for his teasing, making both of you laugh.

"I can drop you off at your place, whenever you want" The words hit you out of the blue while you were standing right next to Rooster as you finished drying the dishes he had washed. Of course, he wanted you out of his place. It had been very generous that he offered you breakfast after he shared his bed with you, but now his hospitality was running out. "Yeah right. I am pretty sure that you have better things to do with your Saturday", there is a somberness to your words that makes him feel like he got punched in the gut. He never wanted to give you the feeling that you were unwelcome or that he had other stuff to do or places to be. All he wanted was for you to know that he was there for you, that he wouldn't just call you an Uber and call it a day. "That's not what I meant...", he starts, reaching out to take one of your hands into his. Yours were so tiny and wrapping his fingers around yours felt so right. "I just wanted you to know that I'll come with you to your apartment" "You really don't have to, Rooster. I'm a big girl, tying my own boots and all. I'll manage" "A very wise woman once told me that you never ride into Mordor alone. You can take a companion or a whole army, but under no circumstance do you go on your own" Your eyes were shooting up wide in shock as your gaze met his. "Did she now?", you asked, taking a step closer, head tilted to the side as your eyes focused on his as if you were trying to solve one of your strategic puzzles. "Yep. And you know what's the annoying part about that lady?”, now it's Rooster taking a step towards you, his finger slowly interlacing with yours and a smitten smile spreading on his lips. All he wants to do is lean down and kiss you and he had no fucking clue when it happened or why but Bradley Bradshaw cannot help but feel the pull towards you. "She has a tendency to be right about that kind of shit" Rooster wants to protect you. He wants to protect your heart if only you'd let him.

The closer he gets to your apartment complex the more fidgety you are. It gets so bad that he just takes your hand to give you something to hold onto but your eyes are darting around, searching for something or rather someone. He didn't want to push you to tell him things you didn't want to share, but he couldn't help but let his eyes roam too, wondering if he'd know who it was once he'd seen them. Pulling up right in front of the house he puts the Bronco in park, watching you as your eyes are darting around. "Hey, Nike", he tries to pull you back, gently squeezing your hand.

"Thank you for bringing me. I'll take it from here", you didn't want him to leave, the way you were still holding his hand said as much, but you were worried. You didn't see his car, but you were pretty sure he'd show his face sooner rather than later and you wanted Rooster as far away as humanly possible from that disaster zone... "I will not leave you alone while you are about to spiral into another anxiety attack", he's sliding a bit closer to you on the seats, hoping that his presence could bring you comfort the way it did last night. "I don't want you to get dragged into this Rooster. It's enough of a shit show as is..." "You do realise I am a naval aviator, right? I get paid to do risky as fuck shit at Mach 1.6 while a beautiful woman yells into my ears to stick to her plan", he's smiling at you, hoping to pull you back closer to him with the joke. "I doubt that there is anything that could happen I've never seen a worse version of" "You never met my father" "Who?" "My father...", you repeat, closing your eyes as you bite down on your lower lip to stave off the tears.

You knew it was stupid and childish. You worked in disaster management for a living and still, nothing ever terrified you as much as the thought of being in the same room as him. "When I moved here he got me my flat and whenever he's in the city he insists on having dinner..." "Your father?", Rooster repeated surprised, shocked even. He had fully expected that it was something like a psychotic ex but your dad? "Yeah, he... he's got an anger management problem and..." "Did he hurt you?" "No... I mean he's not the kind of guy to hit you, but he always yelled a lot, still does to this very day...", you heave a sigh, unsure how to put this into words without sounding like a pathetic, whiny brat while piling even more bullshit on Rooster than you already had. "He snaps his finger and it doesn't matter how you feel, you have to function. Whatever he demands, you have to do it that very second or he starts yelling at you. Privacy is a concept he does not know, at least when it comes to others. There is no good or ok in his vocabulary. It's either perfect or wrong and god forbid that you have a different opinion from him on any topic, no matter how big or small because he will remind you of his superiority, even if it means that he ignores every argument you have, no matter how valid and yells until you yield, if out of fear or exhaustion doesn't matter", you are turning to the side and staring out of the window of the Bronco in a weak attempt to hide your tears. "And because he knows everything better he revels in watching you fail. It doesn't matter if it's something tiny or monumental. He remembers every mistake you ever made, every character flaw, every weakness or what he perceives as such. One of his personal favourites is my time at university. Before I went into disaster management I had a different major and I changed after I handed in my bachelor's thesis and with only two semesters left to finish. He's always having a fucking field day telling me what a waste of time, money and energy I am..." You press your hand to your stomach, using the resistance to have something to focus on while you breathe to calm down your heart that threatens to break free from your ribcage. "For him, all it would have taken is to stop being such a pussy and man up. What he loves to ignore is when every time you stand on a balcony or you look out of a window or you walk over a bridge and you cannot help but look down and estimate if it's high enough... it's long past the time when you should have called it quits", your voice is quiet and you close your eyes once more attempting to hold your tears back.

"With all due disrespect. Your father is an asshole who knows jack shit about you or life for that matter" His eyes are glued to your reflection in the window and seeing the tears that stream down your face makes his heartache and the fury return to his veins. No one deserved such a treatment, least of all you. "Nike look at me", he leans forward and turns your face with his hands, using his thumbs to wipe away your tears. "You are one of the strongest people I know. Your entire career is rooted in your wish to fix things. You bring people home safe and sound and I doubt it gets much more hardcore than being with the US Navy" "I don't serve", your voice is small and choked up from the tears and it makes him livid. A part of him hopes your father will show his sorry ass because heaven knows he'd love to drill some things into that thick skull of his. "You have your own office, you got a callsign. Fuck if the Admiral knew you'd use it you'd have your own parking lot" "I am a contractor", he sees how the tears he just wiped away are replaced by new ones and there is a desperation bubbling up in his chest. He needed you to see that you were more than what your father made you believe you are and it feels like he's failing you right now.

"Nike. You are the woman who 6 years 8 months and 14 days ago on her first fucking day on base marched into a briefing and told Cyclone to his face in front of the entire base leadership that his idea was bullshit", your eyes widen in shock and your gaze finally meets his. You had been told whatever was spoken in that room would never leave it. "How do you know?" "Are you kidding me? You became a legend that day. I have that day marked on my calendar. Fuck everyone on base marked that on their calendar. It was your first day on the job and you grilled him in front of everyone and lived to tell the tale", your eyes are wandering over his face, not sure what he was aiming at. You had done your job, nothing more and nothing less and he acted like you had brokered world peace or something. "That's what he hired me for. To make sure that the missions are successful while minimising the risks for all personnel involved" "I doubt that he expected you to do it that blunt in front of everyone", there is a chuckle falling from his lips and mischief twinkles in his eyes.

You had worked for years on base by this point and never once did you think you overstepped. Simpson sure as hell never told you so but now that you heard Roosters perspective it dawned on you. You weren't military so the chain of command wasn't drilled into you from day one. You had always viewed the Admiral as an equal, someone you work with on eye level to fulfil the mission and keep the people safe. It had never once occurred to you that the difference in position was so stark... "Don't worry about it. If he wouldn't respect you for that move he would have stopped working with you that day. I mean if any of us were scared of driving he would tell us to fucking walk home and for you, he's taking a detour to play shuttle" "He does what?" He should have kept his mouth shut. Considering your reaction Simpson didn't want you to know that, but now that it was out there, he couldn't take it back. "He promised my apartment was on the way..." "More like a 50-minute detour" "Fuck... and all I do is bring him muffins..." "I'd drive cross country for those muffins, no questions asked. They are worth their weight in gold" "How would you know that?" "He called me into his office for a meeting and they were on a plate on the desk" "You didn't..." "Yep. I totally did. Also for the record. Totally worth the 300 push-ups" "300?!?!" "I ate two"

When you finally manage to unlock the door to your apartment Rooster is startled at how clinical and empty it looks. There are no pictures on the wall. It’s all stark white contrasting with the darker floors. Your kitchen looks pretty unused and if he were a betting man he'd say that all he'll find in that fridge are some frozen meals at best. There was a tiny bookshelf in a corner that held only specialized literature about crisis and disaster management and the small couch and TV combo was barely enough for one person let alone to welcome friends over. Then his eyes fall over to the stacked moving boxes in the bay and that’s when it hits him. This is not a home, it’s a place to sleep. A place where you do not feel safe. You are ready to run at any given time. You’ve lived here for almost 7 years and you still expected the other shoe to drop.

“Sorry about this. I just never saw the necessity to…”, you begin and when your eyes meet his the pain you see knocks the air from your lungs. “Nike...”, he begins, making his way over to you to put his hands on your cheeks, wanting to pull you flush against his chest and kiss you. To show you that you didn’t need to live in a state that was more vegetative than anything else. But then he sees the shift in your body, eyes wide with panic and shortly thereafter the door flies open. No knocking, nothing. And in the doorway stands a man, about 5ft8, early to mid-sixties, with grey hair and beard.

“You finally done with hiding like a bratty child?”, he yells, stopping in his tracks when his eyes land on a man he'd never seen before standing right next to you in the living room. “And who would you be?” Your father knew you. You didn’t have friends let alone a boyfriend and no protective hand on your waist or furious glare would convince him otherwise. In three decades you hadn't managed to get a grip on your life and he had long given up hope that you'd finally get your shit together. It's not like your university escapades had been embarrassing enough or the fact you wasted 6 months in a clinic because you lost control. Even now when you have a job, he's still the one who has to tell his co-workers that his daughter hasn't managed to convince a man to stay, let alone start a family. No, you were still single and lived in a flat your father had been forced to help you find because you couldn’t manage on your own. Again.

From the moment he lays eyes on him Rooster hates this man with everything that he is. In about a minute he had shown him more than enough and the mere thought you had lived your entire life like this. Always waiting for him to barge in and yell at you, never feeling safe anywhere, never really being home. How were you supposed to have a normal childhood if all you've ever known was fear? Fear of failing his expectations and fear of his anger. He couldn't even begin to imagine how fucking exhausting that had to be. “Lieutenant Bradshaw. United States Navy”, he moves his body in between you and your father, a movement of instinct more than anything else.

Your father is taken by surprise. He knows you work in crisis management and that you’ve been hired by the Navy but he expected you to do paperwork, write base evacuation plans or coordinate shipments. A glorified secretary with a master's degree.

The silence in the place grew and the weight on you was unbearable. You knew you had to manage this, to keep the fallout minimal but with Rooster here, you couldn’t fall back into the default protocol. He was a variable you never had to calculate with in a situation like this and that made the unease even worse.

“And who are you to just barge into someone’s place without even the most basic courtesy of knocking on the door?” Rooster knew who he was and your father knew that he knew. “I am the father of the woman who’s hiding behind you like she's fucking five”, the disapproval and almost disdain for you in his voice is cutting. Of course, he would use this as yet another chance to tell you how weak and pathetic you were. It would have been a day to mark in the calendar if it weren’t so.

“And that justifies just slamming the door open and marching in like a fucking SWAT team?” The fury burned hotter in his veins with every second spent in your father's presence, every word, every breath pulling up the memories from last night. The way he found you in front of the Hard Deck, how terrified you were. You cried so bad your make-up was a mess and your mind had shut off to a degree you couldn't remember what happened the next morning. And still, that bastard stands there like it's the most normal thing in the world. Like he has every right on planet earth to make you feel like that, to force you to relive your trauma again and again and again. Your hand grabbed Rooster’s wrist in an attempt to pull him back and out of the confrontation. This would end badly if he kept going and you didn’t want that for him. He had done so much for you already, he didn’t need to get roped into that bullshit too, but Rooster did not budge. Quite contrary he even made another step closer to your father.

“This is my place. I co-signed the lease. It's the only reason why she's even having a roof over her head” “How generous of you to hold what every halfway decent father would do for his child over her head as if she fucking owes you for that” Rooster never had a chance to spend much time with his dad and growing up he envied whoever got that privilege but right now he realised for some people growing up without your father was a kinder fate. Your father raised his brow. Almost like he didn’t understand how someone could have the audacity to talk to him like that. “My relationship with my daughter is none of your business” “It became my business the second you treated one of my friends like a piece of trash” “Friend?”, the laughter was harsh, “She doesn't have friends” “Maybe it should give you a fucking pause if your own daughter decides to keep things like that a secret”, he barks back, his patience running very thin right now.

Rooster's fists are itching. He wants the beat that sarcastic smirk off your father’s face right here right now, but your hand is still wrapped around his wrist and he knows you didn’t want that, no matter how satisfying it might feel in the moment. You were too fucking kind for your own good. “Here I thought you were a soldier, but you sound like a shrink" “You don’t need to have a degree in psychology to get that your idea of family is fucked up. Why else would you push your suicidal daughter to keep on doing the thing that made her suicidal in the first place?" “Bradley”, you can see it in your father’s eyes. So far, he's been civil for his standards, but he was close to snapping and you feared what he’d do if Rooster kept on provoking him. Your father had never been physically violent towards you but you always backed down. “You have no fucking idea what you are talking about” “I know more than fucking enough”

You hear a knocking and when your eyes wander from your father to the open door you cannot believe who you see. Your father turns around too, eyes wandering over the group of people standing there. “Sorry for being late to the party. We miss somethin'?”, Hangman asks, his usual cocky features darkened and brows furrowed. Right next to him was Phoenix and then on either side of them Javy and Bob "And who do you think you are?" "For you, we'll be the four horsemen of the apocalypse", the threat in Phoenix's voice is obvious if her face wasn't enough of a tell already.

You stared up at Rooster who had a smug smirk on his face and when he looked down at you his features softened. “I thought just in case a companion is not enough and we do need the army”, he winks at you and it makes you choke up. It’s not just him who came through for you. It’s all of them, the entire squad even though you never talked much outside of mission briefings and when you yelled at them to stick to the plan. Even if you’d been brave enough to ask for help you would have never expected them to show. Especially so early on a Saturday morning.

Your father is perplexed too. This is a first for him. People who stand up to him and don't just back down and relent the second he gets loud and nasty. It means he’s shoved on unknown terrain and like a lot of people with anger issues, he’s getting the most vile when he’s insecure. "So that's how far you've fallen. You don't even bother with trying these days. No, instead of fighting your own wars you are hiding like a coward behind the people you send in to fix the fuckups of your own creation." The words hit you, bringing back the images from the restaurant. Everybody had been staring at you, no wonder considering the noise he made.

'A coward is what you are. Always looking for the easy way out. Always running away instead of manning up and fighting head-on'

"She'd be stupid to ride into Mordor alone", your eyes shoot over to Phoenix, eyes wide and surprise written all over your features. You had no idea she heard you back then when she tried to catch up with Rooster. "You take a companion. You bring an army, but you never go alone", Bob adds and gives you a gentle smile that makes a fresh set of tears run down your cheeks. "And who says shit like that?" "Nike", Javy deadpans. "Nike?" "Yeah, Nike. Your daughter's callsign", Javy cannot hide the irritation in his voice. This was absurd. That man was supposed to be your father and he didn't even know that much about you? "Like the fucking shoe brand?!?!" "More like the greek goddess of victory", Bob chimed in, turning to you with a small smile while you were digging your finger into Rooster's arm to have something to hold on to. "Goddess of victory? Her? As fucking if" You see the way your father looks between them, unable to hide his confusion before he follows their eyes to you, standing right next to Rooster who wrapped an arm around you to pull you even closer into his side.

"She's the best IC North Island ever had", Hangman gave you that signature smirk and a wink. To hear those words from him of all people made your heart swell. "You might not be aware of it, but you have a treasure for a daughter and considering that you treat her like the dirt under your heel I would suggest you reevaluate your coping strategy, Sir", even while he is angry, Bob stays as perfectly polite as ever, pushing his glasses a little up his nose. "But you don't have to take the word of the people whose lives she's responsible for", Phoenix makes a theatrical gesture out of checking her watch before she looks back to your father, "He might get a bit grumpy if we annoy him on a Saturday morning, but I am sure that nevertheless, Admiral Simpson would have no qualms about confirming Nike's spotless mission record"

Rooster feels how you are holding on tighter to him and he can see the confusion shimmering in your eyes as you watch the scene in front of you unfold. He knows that you have no idea what you meant to the people on base, the people you worked with. What you meant to him, even before he found you last night and it's beautiful to witness how the realisation slowly settles in that you are cherished, that there are people who respect you, your achievements and your hard work. People who care.

"I'm gonna make this very simple for you now", Rooster's voice is low and has an animalistic ring to it as he stares down your father, knowing that at a moment's notice, the rest of the dagger squad would be right there by his side. "You will turn around and carry your sorry ass out of this apartment. If I or any of my friends see you near Nike again, you will regret it. If you contact her in any shape or form, you will wish you'd never been born", his voice was cutting and calm, a storm raging right beneath his skin, almost hoping for him to talk back so he could finally give him the beating he deserved. "Are you threatening..." "No, we are not. We never would...", Phoenix has a sardonic smile playing on her lips as she walks around your father and positions herself to Rooster's left. "We are making a promise. Not that a man like you would know the difference", she's cocking her head a little and for the first time in your entire life, you see something like fear flittering over your father's features.

Coyote and Hangman step to the side to clear the way for him and you can see that he's livid, biting down on his lower lip so hard you wonder if he'd draw blood, but he stays quiet as he turns around and walks towards the door only to be stopped by Hangman's hand on his shoulder. "And remember. Even if we should be deployed there are thousands more where we came from who will step up gladly to put you in your place", he gives your father one of those blinding smiles that makes the women swoon but something is hiding in his eyes. A promise that if your father would do as much as breathe funny, he would gladly show him what skills you acquired in the Navy. And with that, your father leaves, not even muttering an insult under his breath the way he usually does as he steps out of the apartment.

The moment he rounds the corner you feel Rooster's arms wrap around you, pulling you into his chest and pressing his lips to the crown of your head. "We are all here for you. I am here for you. You are safe, beautiful"

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[chlorinecake]

Love On A Leash | 심재윤 𓇢𓆸

summary • You offer to dog-sit Jake’s energetic pet border collie as a means to get closer to him. But how will he react when he finds out you forgot to feed her while he was gone?

pairing • next door neighbor!jake x reader • word count • 3.6k genre next door neighbor au, fluff • warnings language, jake and reader have a minor argument, suggestive themes, kissing

YOU FELT LIKE cursing your mother for making you do this.

It was currently 7am as you stood outside your next door neighbor’s front porch with a basket of assorted muffins in hand. The gesture was supposed to be a housewarming gift on behalf of your 'humble community,' your mother tasking you with delivering the treats while she got ready for work although she was already running late.

Your dilemma had nothing to do with her act of kindness, but everything to do with the very moment your dangerously lovesick eyes landed on your new neighbor, Sim Jake.

It goes without saying that he was good-looking, and attractive guys were no more to you than kryptonite is to superman; a crippling weakness. You were already whipped for Jake as is, creating a file filled with all of the things you either learned or observed about him over the past two weeks.

You hadn't even been standing at his porch for 15 seconds before your feet struggled to stay put, tempted to abandon ship and just tell your mom that no one was home.

Maybe he won't even answer, you tried comforting yourself.

What kind of a 20 year old guy would be up this early, anyways?

The door knob twisted as a muffled yawn met your ears, the door creaking open to reveal none other than Jake himself.

He was dressed in his pajamas, sporting a severe case of bedhead that he somehow pulled off.

“Hello?” He said with a groggy yet friendly accent.

“Hi! I’m your next door neighbor's daughter, ____. Here's a welcoming gift from our family to yours,” you forced a smile, handing him the basket.

“Wow, this is really sweet of you guys,” he thanked with a toothy smile, but you stood awkwardly.

“My name is Jake, by the way," he said while giving you a handshake, trying to break the tense physical barrier.

"Glad we could finally meet," you returned, "My mom talks about your family all the time. All good things, of course."

“Yeah, apparently she and my dad knew each other in high school… but now I’m curious. How much do you know?”

“Well, I know you’re from Brisbane and recently moved here for college! Oh, and you’re a huge dog lover, especially of golden retriever’s, like the one you have? Hmm, aren’t you an athlete? I think I’ve seen you in a tracksuit befo-”

“Those are all things about me, silly, not my family,” he giggled, running a hand through his locks.

Buzz.

Jake set the basket down on the table behind him, reaching in his pocket to analyze whatever just popped up on his phone screen. You wondered if he had a girlfr-

"Hm," he hummed, taking a step back into his house.

"I should get going now. Thanks again for the gift! I hope to see you around more often.”

“Well, its not like we can really avoid each other, anyways,” you said, drawing his attention to the brief distance between your two houses.

He blushed at the realization, "Give me a break, ____, I’m not usually up this early. And for the record, Layla’s a border collie!" He exclaimed before closing the door.

Updated Mental Note: (1) Jake’s dad knew your mom in high school, (2) Jake isn’t a morning person, (3) Jake’s dog is a border collie [confirmed].

Surprisingly, that interaction wasn't nearly as painful as you expected it to be.

Jake was chill.

Attractive, yes, but somehow, you survived. Trailing back from his porch to your house, you walked inside to find your mother fastening a pair of heels around her ankles before standing up to meet you. “How do I look? Is my hair okay? Wait, tell me, what did they say about the muffins?”

“You look great, mom! And their son answered, but he said he really appreciated it.”

“Oh, that’s great,” she smiled, pulling you in for a hug. “Alright, sweetie! Duty calls! I’ll see you at dinner!”

“See ya,” you waved before closing the door.

JAKE’S DAD HAD started giving him a hard time concerning the dog. After summer, Jake was busy most of the time with soccer practice and school, and so with two working parents, it was hard to keep up with Layla’s random outbursts.

“You either find someone to watch her or she’s going to the pound!” His dad scowled while picking up a few pillows that Layla chewed holes into. “She’s been with us for years, and even now after the move, Dad! We can’t just give her up for acting like a dog! She’s getting used to this change, too,” Jake argued back while sweeping up a pile of kibble she knocked over.

“I hear what you’re saying, but make sure you consider what I’ve said. I’m not sure how much longer your mother and I can take this.”

A few minutes after their conversation, Jake decided to go and play catch with Layla in the front yard.

“Come here girl, come here! Stop? Sit? Good doggy,” he praised, ruffling the fur on her back before giving her a treat. You were walking home from the bus stop when Jake pointed to one of the tennis balls Layla forget to fetch which you ended up tripping over, the books you were carrying now joining you on the pavement.

“Oh my gosh, are you okay!?” Jake said running over to you.

“Yeah, I’m fine,” you spoke for your physical being as emotionally, you were an embarrassed wreck.

He helped you gather your textbooks and journals, “You’ll probably wanna put these in here.” He smiled, handing you the bag he used to carry Layla’s outdoor toys.

“No really, it’s alright, Jake. I should’ve brought my backpack with me.”

“No, I insist. Think if it as payment for the muffins,” he encouraged, neatly putting the books in the bag before tying it closed. Layla was busy bouncing around the two of you, trying to get Jake’s attention. A glint of playfulness sparkled in his eyes.

“Wanna try throwing the ball?”

“I’m not sure if that’s a good idea. Last time I tried something like that, I ended up having to replace a few things I could hardly afford.” Jake laughed at your honesty, taking your hand in his before closing your fingers around the ball. “Just give it a shot. Prove me wrong,” he winked.

You looked down bashfully, giving in while warming up your shoulders, “You might wanna stand back a bit unless you like getting hit in the balls.”

He giggled again, walking back a few steps, “You’re being too hard on yourself, silly! Just throw it!”

Taking a deep breath, you launched the tennis ball an impressive distance away from you, the excited cream dog chasing after it. “Holy shit! You’ve got the arm of a pro, ____!” Jake exclaimed, giving you a high five.

“Now, when she comes back, you give her this treat.” “With my hand?” “Of course! Don’t worry, she doesn’t bite the hand that feeds her.”

In a matter of seconds, Layla was already running back to you, dropping the drool-covered ball from her mouth before eating the dog biscuits from your hand, the texture of her tongue tickling your palm. “Good girl,” Jake chirped as he met you and Layla on the ground.

“How’d you come up with her name?”

“Layla? Hmm. I’ve never had someone ask me that before,” he admitted, moving to sit crisscross applesauce. “Let’s see… when I was a kid, my inspiration was pretty corny.”

“Corny can be cute sometimes,” you smiled.

“Well, when my family adopted her, she didn’t have a name yet. One of my favorite songs back then was Eric Clapton’s “Layla,” so I figured that’s what she’d be called.”

“Aww! That’s adorable!”

“You probably think everything I do is adorable.”

It was like a cat caught your tongue, leaving you speechless at his comment.

“Kidding,” he smiled, nudging your shoulder before a sad look waved over his features.

“What’s wrong?”

He sighed, “It’s my dad. He wants me to get rid of Layla.”

“But why? Isn’t she like family to you?”

“That’s exactly what I told him! But he thinks she’s only become a burden now that I’m not around as much,” he frowned, watching Layla chase herself around a tree. “The pound’s not a place for a dog like Layla.”

You sat in thought, thinking of ways to comfort Jake that didn’t involve touching him. Then it hit you.

“I can dog-sit her for you.”

His eyes widened in shock at your offer, resembling a cute puppy, “You'd seriously do that for me? Do you have experience?”

“Obviously,” you scoffed dishonestly, “look how comfortable we are with each other. I’m a natural at this.”

“Wow, I really appreciate this. I’ll pay you fifteen dollars per hour starting tomorrow from 11am to 3pm, and then-“

“Jake, I don’t want your money," you giggled, not even realizing that your hand rested on his exposed thigh, "I just wanna help.”

He smiled, “Okay, then. But if you ever feel like backing out, don't hesitate to let me know! Trust me, I won't be disappointed, Layla can be a handful.”

“Gotchya,” you replied, tossing another tennis ball for his dog to fetch, “How should I contact you?”

“Uhhh, I’ll just give you my phone number. Do you have a pen with you?”

“Yeah, right here,” you said, handing him the pen from your pocket.

Jake wrote his number on your wrist. “Perfect,” he chirped, rubbing a thumb over the writings.

“I’ll text you my schedule and everything once I hear from you again, see you around, neighbor!”

“See you!” You returned, both of you going back to your respective houses, the bliss of each other still fresh on your faces.

TO YOUR LUCK, your first day as a dog-sitter was going swimmingly well so far. Jake outlined a simple list of things for you to follow while he was away, tasks ranging from dog-walks to bathroom breaks making up most of the next few hours of your day.

Before Jake left, all you could remember was him saying something about a bag of dog food either in the fridge or pantry, but you were too distracted by the grey sweatpants he wore to successfully pay attention. So, you improvised by intuition.

What would I eat if I was a dog, you asked yourself, searching for any cooked proteins in Jake's fridge, only to find a pack of bacon bits.

Hmm, this could work.

Layla was waiting for her meal patiently by her empty feeding bowl as you moved to explore the pantry, pulling out a few marshmallows and graham crackers to add to the mix. Pouring the contents into her bowl, you gave her a few head scratches before she dove in, munching up every last bite.

"Looks like I've created a culinary masterpiece," you smiled, "I'll call it "____'s Canine Trail Mix," approved by the likes of Sim Layla and many more."

JAKE SHOWED UP about twenty minutes later, greeting you before asking about Layla.

"Everything went great," you beamed, taking him to the couch she laid tiredly on.

“What’s wrong with her? Did she just wake up from a nap?”

“I don't know, I just got out of the bathroom.”

“Did you walk her?”

“Of course, for two hours like you said.”

“Hmm. Did she play with her toys at all?”

“A little bit, but she didn’t seem interested after eating."

“Maybe you gave her too much food. How many scoops of kibble did she get?”

“What?" You asked, initially confused at the mentioning of kibble until you remembered what Jake was trying to tell you before he left: Layla gets 2 scoops of kibble for lunch with a few sausages from the fridge.

“How much food did you give Layla?” He repeated.

“Jake.”

“What?”

“I forgot to feed her.”

His jaw dropped, “You’re joking.”

"Well, I did feed her, but I forgot about the kibble. I gave her a bowl of bacon bits, graham crackers, and marshmallows instead."

Jake paced back and forth, running a frustrated hand through his hair, "What kind of a person with 'dog experience' decides to feed them marshmallows of all things? A whole ass bowl full?”

"I'm not following," you admitted timidly.

"Connect the dots, would ya?" He spat, trying to control his breathing.

"How was I supposed to know dogs can’t eat marshmallows?"

"Dog's don't eat common human foods, ____, that’s a no-brainer! I thought you said you had experience with this kind of thing," he frowned, meeting Layla on the couch to comfort her aching state.

You kept your distance from him, "I lied to you, Jake. I’m an amateur when it comes to this stuff."

He scoffed disappointedly, "Why would you lie about something like that, ____?"

"I- I just…I wanted to help you! You seemed really upset about the whole thing with your dad and I- it felt like the right thing to do at the time.”

"Well, for future reference, lying never helps."

You swallowed the dryness that grew in your throat, "I’m really sorry, Jake. Is there anything that I can do to help? Maybe get her some medicine?"

"No, ____, you’ve done enough already. I’ll see you around."

You couldn’t think of anything else to say, so you simply grabbed your things and walked towards the door, the sounds of Layla's guttural wrenching making you cringe in shame and disgust.

Updated mental note: (1) Dogs can’t eat marshmallows, (2) Lying never fixes situations, (3) Jake probably hates you now [pending confirmation]

IT WAS A few days after the dog-sitting situation when you were studying on your front lawn, completely mesmerized by the view of Jake as he worked out in his garage. You felt guilty for ogling after everything that happened, but you couldn't fight your hormonally induced urges.

He was pushing out his third set of bench presses, fluffy brown hair framing his cheekbones. He screwed his eyes shut from the intensity, biting his lower lip as he tried to push through the resistance of his fatigue arms.

He glanced over quickly as sweat started to drip in his eyes. You stared back at him like a deer in the headlights at the realization that you’d been caught peeking. He couldn’t take his eyes off of you, struggling to handle the weight. “__-____?!” He stuttered your name breathlessly, losing his grip. “JAKE!”

You ran faster than your legs have ever carried you, adrenaline kicking in as you slid the left weight off of the rod, jumping onto his lap to avoid the iron disc from smashing your foot. “Ugh,” he groaned in relief as you reached to slide the other weight off, unintentionally pressing yourself into him.

That sound might replay in your mind forever.

Gripping the rod in your hand, you looked down to see both your own and Jake’s veiny hands holding onto the pole for dear life. Then you looked down, realizing that you were sitting straight on his bulge.

“Oh my God, sorry!” You yelped, leaping off of his sweaty frame. He giggled at your apology, feeling embarrassed himself but for different reasons.

“It’s alright, ____, you probably just saved my life there,” he said, now sitting up on the bench. He gave you a look before continuing. “Why were you stalking me?”

“Me? I-“

“I’m not upset, or anything. Did you wanna tell me something?”

“No, I was just… I didn’t mean to-"

Layla's barking from inside the house cut you off mid sentence. You were just now noticing the pink paint stains on his shirt, a few drops decorating the private area of his sweatpants.

Similarly to a puppy, Jake forgot all about what you were just talking about, getting up to fix the equipment. “You’re really fast, y’know? What other secret athletic talents do you have?”

You smiled awkwardly, “Well, if you ever tried tickling me, I might become a professional kickboxer.”

Jake laughed at your joke like he always did. You swore that if he blessed your ears with his beautiful laugh one more time, you might explode.

“Maybe you should spot me sometime,” he said, fastening the ring weight back on the rod.

Your eyes fell to the paint stains on his paints. “I’m sorry?”

“Spot me. Like when I’m weightlifting. You seem pretty keen to watching out for me, anyways.”

You could feel heat rushing through every part of your body. “Of course, anything for a neighbor,” you smiled, trying to redirect his flirting for the sake of your own existence.

Layla barked even louder this time, Jake sighing before heading to his garage door. For some reason you followed him, but he didn’t seem to mind. “I’m washing white clothes, so if you have anything light colored on, throw it in the machine,” Jake’s mom yelled from the kitchen at the sound of him entering the house.

“Alright,” he called back, taking off his sweaty white t-shirt and tossing it into the washer. He reached over to press a few buttons on the machine, the muscles in his arm flexing with each movement. He trailed from the washroom, you still following closely behind.

“It’s a maze in here,” you said, marveling at how big his house was.

“I feel the same way sometimes,” he giggled, taking your hand in his to guide you. 

You just remembered that he came in here to look for Layla, so you listened out, trying to help him find her.

“Oh,” you said, stopping Jake in his tracks as you pointed to a four legged shadow running around underneath a closed door, “she’s right here.”

He turned, “What? How’d she get in my bedroom?” Jake walked towards the door, twisting the handle to reveal Layla chasing her tail in a circle.

“You’re so silly, Layla,” he smiled, running a hand through her thick blonde fur. “She’s doing such much better now,” you commented, meeting Jake and his dog on the floor.

“Yeah, she was totally fine after getting that stuff out of her system. Don't worry, though, she told me she forgives you," he smiled.

"And what about you?"

"Of course, ____. I don't think I could over hold a grudge against you."

Layla hopped on your lap, licking at your hands. You would’ve been grossed out if it wasn’t Jake’s dog. Her tongue tickled your palms as she panted in excitement, “I wish I had this much energy on a daily basis,” you beamed, Jake returning a grin himself.

“I think she just really likes you,” he replied. “With all of those kisses, you must taste pretty nice.”

“Maybe you’ll have to try sometime,” you said, not even realizing how suggestive your comment was. Jake grabbed a random tennis ball from the floor before tossing it out of the room, “Go fetch,” he ordered, Layla chasing after the ball.

A sparkle twinkled in his eye before he lead your face towards his by your chin. He noticed that you looked nervous, but decided to take his chances and kiss you anyway, all of your nerves melting away at the softness of his lips. You felt his hand grip at the side of your neck, tilting his head to deepen the kiss.

Kicking your foot, you closed the door slightly, falling on your back for him to take the lead. His lips broke from yours with a pop as your cold hands snuck around his bare waist. He hummed at the feeling, leaning in to kiss down your neck.

His breath was so hot against your skin, sweet sounds escaping your mouth from all the action. That’s when you two heard Layla trailing back to his room, returning to the positions you were sat in before Layla left. She barged through the door, slobbery tennis ball between her jaws as she dropped before Jake. “Good girl,” he cheered, fluffing at her fur.

You felt the aftermath of your kiss like a wave, exhausting yet refreshing.

You felt Jake.

His kiss was like water, crashing and roaring, yet emotional and gentle. You couldn’t tell, but he still felt a wave that hit him, too.

He felt you.

Your hands modest and shy, yet your lips eager and passionate. 

Layla barked for what sounded like her loudest one thus far. “I’ve gotta go walk Layla,” Jake said, sounding happy yet simultaneously like he’d rather be doing something else. Fastening a leash around Layla's collar, he trailed out of his room. You reached on his dresser and grabbed a shirt for him to wear on his way out.

His mom was no longer in the kitchen, but you decided to be polite anyways. “Bye, Mrs. Sim!” You could hear her returning the salutation from some part of the maze-like house, making your heart feel warm. Jake walked through garage and stopped at the driveway, having locked all the doors before exiting the house.

“Thanks for stopping by, ____,” he smiled, flashing you a look so intense, you might fall over. “Anytime,” you returned, handing him the shirt you’d been carrying. You don’t know when it happened, but you didn’t feel awkward in front of his shirtless frame anymore. “Aww,” he giggled, “I didn’t even realize I was still shirtless.”

He was so puppy-like that you couldn't help but adore him. Layla starting running, Jake loosing grip of her leash while distracted by you. “Layla!” He called after her before running to catch up himself.

“I gotta go now. Bye, ____!” He yelled as he ran after his excited dog. “Bye, Jake,” you called out while waving, even though he didn’t see you.

You walked back to your house, talking your shoes off at the front door before heading upstairs to your bedroom. You knew you didn’t wanna leave Jake's side yet, but you had other things to work on at home in the meantime.

Things like sharing with your diary that you and Sim Jake just kissed.

𐂯‎ This piece was created to mark TODAY, my official first month on as a Tumblr creator!!!! Thank you all so much for reading this piece! Hopefully you enjoyed it as much as I did writing it :3

𐂯 Feel free to check out more fun reads on my enhypen bookshelf!

𐂯‎ Taglist: @fanficfactoryfoxxx @ashgonedash @yourmomscuntis2tighy @kaykay11sworld @yngwife @sussyjake @microwvdstrawb3rri3s @stinkoscope @03sunoos @4imhry @rickysblkgf

[itshirohi]

Ryuu-chan’s day off ✧₊⁺

Inspired by @rottencarr0t ‘s idea. I hope you enjoy. Warnings: not much, I think, except for the fact I am not used to writing anything so this might be terrible, not really proof-read enough either. Well, maybe a bit of implied violence too (this man istg…)

How does Ryuuken start his day?

♡ In Ryuuken’s opinion, you can’t really have a good day without starting it with a single smoke on a balcony (the only exception being particularly bad days he can already sense from the moment he wakes up). From the height of the 8th floor, where his apartment is located, he has just the perfect view to observe the usually busy streets below, now enveloped in the quiet peace of early morning hours. That’s right, the old man’s an early riser. He usually wakes up at around 4:30 AM, without needing an alarm. Even after a particularly rough or sleepless night, his eyes seem to open, wide awake at this “magical” hour. At this point he is used to it though. ♡ He spends a good while just staring and observing the few individuals who happen to be already (or still) awake at this hour, going about their business down below. They always look so small, like ants or other insects… which is precisely what most people are to Ryuuken in his eyes. He takes his sweet time smoking. No matter if the weather is bad or the air is cold, he will stand there, dressed in nothing but his sleepwear (which varies in different states of undress), allowing himself to get lost in his thoughts. ♡ This whole process usually lasts until his cigarette is fully burnt out, or his beloved kitty - Princess PomPom lets her hunger be known by meowing loudly from inside the apartment. Anything to do with his cat is always top priority, after all.

︶⊹︶︶୨୧︶︶⊹︶︶⊹︶︶୨୧︶︶⊹︶

Breakfast time!

♡ What does the man eat to get a good start of the day? Most often, nothing but a small cup of very strong and bitter coffee. He doesn’t even really like the taste of it, nor does it help him wake up any better, it’s just a habit he picked up from his father… but that is a story for another day.

︶⊹︶︶୨୧︶︶⊹︶︶⊹︶︶୨୧︶︶⊹︶

Morning routine.

♡ After he is done with his morning brooding and had his fair share of spoiling his fluffy princess, Ryuuken is ready to properly start his day. He does so by dressing up in his sportswear and going for a quick, thirty minute run around the area. He likes to do it in absolute silence, keeping track of his surroundings and the people he passes. ♡ Ryuuken is actually eerily quiet in the mornings and may not even utter a single word until he has “properly woken up”. He just blankly stares ahead, ignoring any attention he may be getting from being the tall and somewhat scary man that he is (especially when he’s so disheveled in the morning). He does not make any stops at convenience stores or anything of the sort, just keeps up with his run until he is finished. ♡ What happens when someone bumps into him on accident? Surprisingly… nothing. No matter the person, they’d simply be ignored. Probably not even the man himself could explain why that is. ♡ After Ryuuken is done with his run, he gets back home, takes a quick shower and changes into one of his usual outfits. It’s at this point that his usual personality starts to slowly manifest itself. While styling his hair (which usually takes him a good while as well) he likes to look at himself in the mirror, admiring the sights and talking to himself. He *loves* talking to himself.

︶⊹︶︶୨୧︶︶⊹︶︶⊹︶︶୨୧︶︶⊹︶

What happens after?

♡ Now it’s time for him to actually go out and eat something. What, you thought he’d actually fully skip his breakfast? Oh, you silly goose. He is a big man and he needs his calories to maintain it all! He isn’t, however, skilled or patient enough to cook it all himself, so he usually chooses one of the nearby restaurants to order a good, big meal that will satisfy his appetite. ♡ Since this is his *off-day* Ryuuken will probably find himself bored. If he can’t go do work for the Yakuza, or whatever shady business that caught his attention, it also means he can’t go and annoy any of his dear friends! Although he prefers the term “brightening up their day with his lovely presence”. Still, it’s an utter tragedy in his eyes. He needs constant attention, lest he feels that the world has forgotten about him. We can’t have that now, can we? ♡ He starts off with a quick trip to the convenience store, cigarettes run out quickly after all. While he’s at it, he tries his best to chat up whatever poor worker has their shift at the moment. What do you mean there’s a small queue forming already and people are slowly getting annoyed? They just don’t get it, do they? This is *his* day off and *his* time for groceries. They should feel blessed with his presence, if anything. Or so the delusional old man thinks to himself. ♡ In search of next potential victims to give him that sweet, needed attention, Ryuuken would usually go to a shopping mall, or a park. Let us go with the former this time. ♡ While at the mall, Ryuuken doesn’t even know if he intends to buy anything yet or not. He might get a new coat, try to use the most charming aspects of his persona to flirt with a couple ladies (or men if they catch his attention), hells, maybe even cause a little scene or two for the fun of it. As long as it keeps him entertained, anything goes. 

︶⊹︶︶୨୧︶︶⊹︶︶⊹︶︶୨୧︶︶⊹︶

Late noon and evening hours.

♡ Once he’s grown bored of bothering others, Ryuuken enters his more unstable hours. There is a chance he will remain playful and relatively harmless for the rest of the day, but due to his nature, that is rarely the case, unfortunately. ♡ Before settling on any plans for the evening, he calls every friend on his contact list (which is relatively short, for reasons “unknown”), asking to hang out. Shall anyone agree to entertain the old man’s whims, he plans something more fun, like going out for drinks or karaoke, maybe even clubbing. ♡ If, by some unfortunate and cruel play from fate’s side, he has to spend the evening by himself, Ryuuken sticks to renting a movie and lounging in his apartment with his cat. All while feeling incredibly miserable, of course. In this scenario, he usually ends up falling asleep halfway through the movie (peak old man behavior right here), cuddled up to PomPom on his bed. Yes, this has happened so many times he bought a second TV for his bedroom just because of that, why do you ask? ♡ Now… if Ryuuken is denied hanging out too many times, he can become *snappy*. He will roam the streets aimlessly, looking around for anyone who would look at him wrong or give any other good reason to beat them up. He won’t get back home until he satisfies his blood thirst, even if he has to make up reasons for roughing up (or worse) a poor, unsuspecting civilian. This is easily the worst case scenario for everyone, which is precisely why Ryuuken’s closest friend and sworn brother (OC in progress?) makes sure to hang out with him at least once a week. Being Ryuuken’s friend is no easy feat, but that is probably an idea for a potential future post.

Anyway, I think that would be about it. I hope you enjoyed the ride and sorry for any possible mistakes (I don’t trust my brain when I’m sick). Feel free to drop any asks about my OCs (mainly Kengan, but can be other if you feel like it… *wink wink*) and I’ll get back to ya later. I should probably start a new tag for this…

[aritsukemo]

New Neighbors | Tokito Twins ( Mostly Muichiro headcanons though )

A/N: My first headcanon wooo! I had fun making this but I kinda ran out of ideas towards the end so I apologize if the ending seems abrupt! I was thinking of making a second part of this that focuses more on Yuichiro's side of things but things are still undecided for now.

Credits: This was inspired by @shizukano's Albedo/Rubedo neighbor headcanon! I do not at all take credit for this idea!

Neighbor!Muichiro who recently moved into the house across from yours where an old couple once lived. You can't get a good view of him from your window on the second story of your home.. Maybe you should consider going over later to meet him?

Neighbor!Muichiro who ends up bumping into you on the way to school that following week. He had slept through his alarm, and after frantically throwing some clothes on, was running his fastest along the sidewalk and ends up tripping on his pants leg and right into you, who was just biking out of your driveway.

Neighbor!Muichiro who freaks out when you go tumbling off your bike. Getting up quickly only to ramble out apologizes and pleas to not get mad at him for the mistake while he helps you up.

Neighbor!Muichiro who's relieved when you tell him not to get so worked up and that you aren't mad. Thank goodness, he thinks.

Neighbor!Muichiro who finds out you're going the same way as him and ends up catching a ride on your little bike which gains a few looks from your neighbors.

Neighbor!Muichiro who's long black and teal blows majestically through the wind as he thanks you for the ride and promises to pay you back next time..whenever that is.

Neighbor!Muichiro who smiles when you give him your name and compliments it without much thought to it. He thinks it really suits you!

Neighbor!Muichiro who finds out you go to the same school as him and makes the cutest surprised expression you've ever seen! He was like, 'You go here too?! :O'

Neighbor!Muichiro who waves his hand when you enter his class, hoping that you would get the memo and come sit with him.

Neighbor!Muichiro who grins from ear to ear when you finally walk over and sit down in the seat beside his and greet him for the second time while you pull out your pens, pencils, and notebook.

Neighbor!Muichiro who's so excited to talk with you more that he can't stop himself from bombarding you with questions and ends up getting in trouble with the teacher. He went beet red from embarrassment..

Neighbor!Muichiro who needs help in order to escape his classmates who surround and question him about his life, compliment him on his appearance, and invites him to sit with them at lunch.

Neighbor!Muichiro who breathes a sign of relief when you come to his rescue and helps him get out of class.

Neighbor!Muichiro who thanks you for your help and immediately accepts when you ask if he wants to sit with you and his friends.

Neighbor!Muichiro who's a little nervous to meet your friends for the first time only to almost immediately click with them once he sits down. ( He seems to get along with Tanjiro the most, you're a little jealous )

Neighbor!Muichiro who gets offered a homemade cupcake by Tanjiro's sister, Nezuko and politely turns it down. Turns out he's not a fan of sweets.

Neighbor!Muichiro who pouts when he finds out that you only have one class together. He was hoping to spend the whole day with you..

Neighbor!Muichiro who offers to walk you to class despite having no clue of the layout of the building. He ends up fifteen minutes late to class..

Neighbor!Muichiro who ends up getting detention for being late and can't walk home with you like he wanted :(

Neighbor!Muichiro who got up surprisingly early one morning. Usually you have to come over and knock on his window or door to wake him up..

Neighbor!Muichiro who you greeted that morning only to be greeted back with an irritated glance and a scoff. How odd..

Neighbor!Muichiro who's voice was a little deeper than usual when he declined your offer for a ride to school for the first time since he moved here a few weeks ago. He even insulted your bike!

Neighbor!Muichiro who yelled at you when you followed after him as if you were intentionally doing so. You were just taking your usual route to school..

Neighbor!Muichiro who's outfit seemed oddly put together and way less baggy than usual. Everything he wore seemed ironed to perfection and he wore his hair up in a neat ponytail. Does he have some kind of event today that he didn't tell you about?

Neighbor!Muichiro who went the opposite way as you and ends up skipping your only class together.

Neighbor!Muichiro who ignores all of your attempts at calling him over to your lunch table and instead chooses to sit at Genya's table on the other side of the cafeteria. ..Is he avoiding you?

Neighbor!Muichiro who ruined your appetite from how worried he made you. I mean, how could you eat when your friend is acting like a complete stranger towards you? ( Tanjiro made you eat a roll before lunch was over )

Neighbor!Muichiro who confuses you greatly when he enters your math class that afternoon and takes a seat in one of the front desks.

Neighbor!Muichiro who quietly scribbles notes into his notebook as the class progresses, paying keen attention to everything taught that day.

Neighbor!Muichiro who makes an appearance in all your afternoon classes and not just your math class. Once again quietly scribbling in his notebook and paying close attention to everything spoken from the teacher.

Neighbor!Muichiro who rolls his eyes when he's walking home and notices you tailing him, mumbling something along the words of 'Annoying stalker' before speeding up.

Neighbor!Muichiro who has you overthinking all night every night for the next couple of days about everything only to return back to normal like nothing happened.

Neighbor!Muichiro who's confused when he's running to school because you didn't wake him. Did you forget? If so, he understands. He has those days often.

Neighbor!Muichiro who sits down beside you after being scolded by the teacher and furrows his brows when he notices you avoiding eye contact.

Neighbor!Muichiro who passes you a note asking you what's wrong only for you to hesitantly hand him a note that replies 'Nothing, don't worry about it'.

Neighbor!Muichiro who gives you a confused look when you ask him if he did the math homework in which he replies with he didn't because he doesn't take math.

Neighbor!Muichiro who shows up to your morning class only to skip all of your shared afternoon classes. When you asked him about it on the bike ride home, he gave you a confused look. He even asks if the stress of school is getting to you! Are you seriously losing it???

Neighbor!Muichiro who leaves you speechless one day when he greets you with his double in tow. He shouts a small 'Hey!' with his usual smile and an eager wave which causes the boy walking next to him to click his tongue.

"Hey, L/n! Sorry I kept you waiting but I got Yuichiro to join us this time!"

"..Huh..?"

"..What's wrong? You look like you've seen a ghost or something, hehe..~"

"Who.. Tokito, who is this?"

"You don't know already? This is my brother, Yuichiro."

Neighbor!Muichiro who apparently had an identical twin you never knew about. Something you never once suspected, ever.

Dividers were made by me, pictures used are from Pinterest

[lisutarid-a]

[Gakuen K] Fushimi Saruhiko Route Translation

Going shopping

LIST OF CHAPTERS

[Translation under the cut]

Saya: Summer vacation just started, but Fushimi-kun and I are going to buy the things we need to grow ipomoeas.

Saya: (I will leave early so as not to be late for the meeting time)

Saya: Ah, Fushimi-kun is already here!

Saya: Good morning! You're early.

Saya: I guess I made you wait. How long have you been here?

Fushimi: I just came.

Saya: I see. That's good then.

Saya: (Maybe it's because this is the first time I see Fushimi-kun without his uniform, but it's kind of refreshing…)

Fushimi: Why are you stunned? Let's get this over with.

Saya: Ah, Uhm!

Saya: Because we're going to be home late, I'm going to drop the bags off in the club room and then just go home.

Saya: I was thinking of asking Munakata-senpai to help us with the preparation with ipomoeas for tomorrow's club activities.

Fushimi: I got it. I'll help you.

Saya: Thank you! Ah, and I'm also thinking of buying seedlings since growing them from seed would be hard.

Fushimi: I don't care either way. It's up to you.

Saya: Understood. But seedlings are a bit expensive. I wonder if it will be okay for the club budget…

Fushimi: The club has a lot of extra money so it shouldn't be a problem.

Saya: Eh, really?

Fushimi: Yeah. I saw a budget control book once. Maybe it's because we have so many people.

Fushimi: We're also doing this for the Head of the Student Council Office, so I'm sure that's no big deal.

Saya: They won't go against Munakata-senpai…

Fushimi: It's certainly best not to make enemies with him.

Saya: (I should be careful…Ah!)

Saya: Fushimi-kun, I think the gardening supply store is in this building. Let's go in!

Saya: I'm glad we got everything we needed. As I expected, big places are different.

Fushimi: Give this to me.

Saya: Eh, the bag we bought?

Saya: (I wonder if he wants to check it…)

Saya: Okay.

Saya: …

Saya: (Ah, he meant he'd carry it for me)

Saya: I can handle that much.

Fushimi: It's fine. We'll walk faster that way.

Saya: Uhm, thank you.

Saya: (Fushimi-kun has a having a sharp tongue in certain moments, but he's actually quite kind)

Saya: Summer vacation starts today. Are you planning to go anywhere, Fushimi-kun?

Fushimi: For now, to a club camp.

Saya: Right, we're going to have a camp. I'm looking forward to it.

Fushimi: Looking forward to it? For what?

Saya: Aren't we going to have a campfire, cook dinner, and throw the pillows at each other?

Fushimi: We're not going to do such things. That's a school trip. A training camp is not such a sweet thing.

Saya: Ahaha, I see. It's a training camp…What kind of camp?

Fushimi: The main purpose of the Blue club's training camp is to strengthen physical fitness. Because physical fitness is the basis of all work, apparently.

Fushimi: Last time it was in the mountains, so we ran on mountain roads non-stop.

Fushimi: After that, for some reason, we were made to help the neighborhood chop wood and even clean out the horse stalls.

Saya: Sounds surprisingly sports-oriented…

Saya: (Maybe it's a whim of Munakata-senpai that is not in the plan…)

Fushimi: Since it's sea this year, the main activities will probably be long swims and running on the beach.

Saya: Well, do you have any other plans besides the camp?

Choice: I was hoping we could go hang out ❤︎

Saya: I was hoping to go hang out with Fushimi-kun.

Fushimi: Ha? Who?

Saya: Me and Fushimi-kun.

Fushimi: I have already went with you shopping in this damn heat.

Saya: I see… Too bad.

Choice: Let's go hang out with everyone

Saya: I was thinking about going hang out with everyone, what do you think?

Fushimi: I refuse. And who is everyone?

Saya: Eh, with everyone from the Blue club. I was hoping we could go out and have fun together, not just at a camp.

Fushimi: Why do we have to see each other again another day when we already have to face each other at the training camp?

Saya: I think there is a difference between camp and hanging out…

Fushimi: If you want to do that with those guys, do it on your own. I'm not going.

Saya: Thanks for carrying the bags.

Fushimi: Yeah, I'll just leave it there.

Saya: Uhm. Well than, see you tomorrow.

Saya: Is this the correct way to attach these two rings?

Fushimi: It's not. You put the smaller ring on the bottom. It's the other way around.

Saya: Ah, I see.

Saya: Do you think this place is sunny enough?

Fushimi: The sun can be different there if someone sits near the window. It'd be better here.

Saya: Understood. I'll leave them here.

Saya: (Even though he's acting like it's a hassle, he's doing it properly)

Saya: I hope ipomoeas will bloom beautifully.

Fushimi: Not interested. For a start, it'd be good if even one blooms.

Saya: Ah, Fushimi-kun. Where are you going?

Fushimi: Home. Because the preparations are over, I'm done working for the day.

Saya: I thought about giving them names…

Fushimi: Names? You can name them whatever you want.

Saya: (Ah…He's gone. Though I thought he was nice to me when he carried the bags…)

Saya: (Ah, right. I'll name this ipomoea after Fushimi-kun)

Saya: From today, I'll call you Saruhiko. I hope Saruhiko grows up well.

[Prev chapter][Next chapter]

[greyskyflowers]

Bits and Pieces of fics I'll probably never finish:

MarcoAce

Reincarnation/magical realism/modern AU

Ace inherits an old house on the coast from Shanks. The house is a mess and full of strange things but he has a great time fixing it up.

Along the way he learns about the people who lived in the house before him, gets a visit from his younger brother and his friends, and meets an odd group of people from town that seem to have adopted him as one of their own. He also meets a man named Marco.

~~

Ace has rarely felt as lost as he does standing in front of his new home.

The house is two stories and a shadow of what it once must have been, with a beautiful porch now all rotten and threatening to fall in. The house might have been painted a pretty slate color at on point but was now a mess of dirt, salt and rot

It was liveable though and that's all that matters. It's with a strong mix of excitement and dread that he opens the door.

Dust bellows out and the shadows peek around the corners to see who's visiting.

The light in the kitchen is on but when he goes in to investigate the room is dark and the bulb broken.

The wallpaper reachs out and tugs gently at his hair when he walks past.

~~

He sweeps the shadows back to their corners, now clean enough for them to begrudgingly stay there

He takes down the old lace curtains and goes to soak them in water, hoping he might be able to save some of them. They're hard with age and grey with dust but beautifully made and look to have been snow white at one point.

He cleans all the cabinets and doors, sweeping out the bad and old, opening the windows to call in the good.

The day tumbles in as sunlight on floor that has been in the dark for years. Spiders tiptoe over the floor to see where they can hang their own lacey and silky webs.

He finds some old wood by the fireplace in the main room and decides that until he gets the heating working again, this will work fine.

The wood catches easily, incredibly dry and old as it is. It burns blue green for a moment before fading to the normal red yellow, the flames cast shadows that look like feathers on the walls.

He shakes out the old welcome mat on the front porch and leaves an iron coin under it when he sets it back down. He keeps the door open behind him.

Each room he enteres for the first time is given a soft greeting and the windows propped open.

~~

He's painting one of the ground floor bedrooms when someone knocks at the door. He's right in the middle of doing the small work around the window though so he debates ignoring it.

The paintbrush slips out of his fingers and lands on the one of the tarps he had put down. Well... he might as well get the door since he was to climb off the ladder now anyway.

~~

Ace feels his breath catch when he looked at it. It was stunning.

"I didn't even know that they came in this color."

Marco uses the hem of his shirt to dry it off.

"The ocean does strange things sometimes. Red pearls hardly seem that odd when you think about it."

He looks at Ace from the corner of his eye and holds out his hand to drop the pearl into the younger man's hand. It falls to his palm like a drop of blood.

"You should keep it. Maybe if we find enough you can make a necklace."

Ace rolls the red pearl around between his finger, it looks like glass in the light and is surprisingly heavy.

"You think I could pull off a whole necklace of these?" He means it as a joke but Marco doesn't take it that way.

"Yes." He says without hesitant.

"Oh."

Ace lets the silence hang between them. He feels like he missed something but isn't sure what it was.

~~

His toes sink into the sand and the water throws foam at his ankles. It's cold and grey today.

"Are you cold?" Marco seems surprised.

"Yeah. I get cold easy, Luffy always made fun of me for it when we were younger. He'd be running around bare chested and in shorts all year around and I'd start bundling up early fall."

"That's funny. You seem more like the type to be warm all the time."

Ace grins. "Are you saying I'm hot?"

Marco laughs and the shoreline doesn't seem as colorless as it had earlier.

~~

Zoro with his thrift shop gold earrings and dyed green hair that only he could pull off. Scars from past fights still color his skin and the scars are silver lines when the sun catches them. He's always half a step behind his brother.

Usopp has his thick curls piled on top of his head in a messy bun and is telling a story about the time he saved someone from drowning to anyone close enough to listen.

Chopper, graduated high school and then college so young but so smart. Losing his way before managing to find a place with Luffy. Every part of him glows in shades of brown and gold in the afternoon sun.

Franky has sleeves of both arms, black and grey ink that makes designs like gears and stars and other pieces of metal. It's stunning artwork that almost looks real, his wife Robin the one who had done all of it.

Robin who always seems to know more than you. She works remote, no one knowing what she does or if they do they're not telling Ace. Whatever it is doesn't need her to work often and pays very well. It's shady but so is Robin, so it works.

Brook, a older man who had outlived everyone he loved. He had been absorbed into the little group quickly and he was thriving. A collection of terrible jokes, beautiful music, and life stories that seems straight out of a fantasy book.

Nami waves her phone around trying to get service. Her peach, gold hair spills down her back in rings and she looks annoyed. Her girlfriend is a blue blob on her phone that's laughing at her, if the airy giggle cutting in and out was any indication.

Luffy has the strawhat their godfather had given him when he was younger hanging from his neck. The man was a menace. Makino and Benn the only people that could keep him in line. His hair looks like ink in the sun and his shoulders are broader than last time Ace had seen him.

It makes something catch in his chest that he'd missed it.

~~

The lock is rusted and heavy. He tugs on it and lets Luffy try his hand at it too.

"Maybe we can pick it somehow?"

The little built in hideaway is interesting and he'd like to keep it if they could avoid damaging it while trying to open it.

Luffy rubs his chin and looks at the opening of the lock.

"Nami!" He bellows.

Ace rears back at the yell right next to his ear and faintly hears something yelled back.

Luffy stands up and goes to the window, leaning out if it.

"We need you to pick a lock!"

Ace tunes them out as he keeps fiddling with the lock until he hears heels coming up the stairs.

Nami is vivid in the bare and dusty room, all bright colors and loud personality.

Ace moves to the side to let her look at the lock.

"Oh, yeah. I can do this."

She unrolls a small cloth bundle she has with her and grabs some tools to work with.

Ace watches her scrap off some of the rust to get into the keyhole and start carefully moving the picks.

"And.. there."

The lock falls to the floor with a heavy thud.

She steps back and lets Ace in front of the little cabinet.

"You think it's food?"

Ace makes a face.

"I hope not. We couldn't eat it anyway... I mean, could we? I guess it depends what it was."

Nami looks disgusted.

"I'm getting Zoro up here to watch you two. I refuse to watch you morons eat whatever comes out of there."

She leans out the window and yells down at Zoro before turning and leaving the room in a kick up of dust.

The little door is still shut and it seems like the house is holding its breath.

The wood has swollen over time, and it takes a decent amount of pulling before it gives, Ace tumbling back on his butt when it suddenly opens.

Old air seeps out in a grateful breath, blowing back his hair and Luffy's hat flutters against his back. The breeze takes off towards the window and is gone.

Enough light shines in to start cautiously sneaking a look into the dark, cool hole in the wall.

"Water?"

He pulls out a few jars with clear liquid in it. He twists the top off and recoils instantly.

"Holy shit, That's moonshine." He takes another tentative sniff. "Nope, I take it back. That's lighterfluid. No human should drink this."

He shoves the cap back on and rubs his eyes. Luffy snags the jar with a whoop.

"Zoro will love these. Gimme."

The jars are swept up in skinny arms and Luffy takes off down the stair already calling for his best friend.

With a shake to clear his head, Ace is back to seeing what he can find.

He pulls out a small cloth bag, some small seeds falling into his hand when he opens it.

He can't tell what they where but maybe he can ask Robin or Usopp when he goes back downstairs. They carefully go back in their bag before being set aside.

He pulls out another piece of cloth. It's soft with wear and ragged like it had been torn from something. There's a skull on the front with maybe smoke curling around it? Ace looks closer, a mustache? He can't help the small laugh that escapes him, what a weird thing to hide away.

There are a few more odds and ends that he pulls out. Some old coins, a wicked knife with a curved handle, a small jar of sand all stuck in a clump, and way in the back was a book.

He pulls it out last, dusty and bulging with pages stuffed between the old leather that binds it all together.

He flips it over and brushes the dust off the cover. It's blank but clearly well loved, with ink and paint along the edges and the occasional stray drop on the front.

He opens it carefully, scared it will break in his hands but it holds strong.

It's a sketchbook.

He turns each page with wonder. Paintings of the sea that smelled of salt and leave his fingers wet, trees that wave their leaves at him as he turns the pages, ink drawings of a couple dancing with a dressed flaring up around the woman as she twirls into the man's arms.

Occassionally a photo was stuck in. The same dark haired man and smiling woman in every one.

They look happy.

The second to last page has a photo of just the woman, sitting on the window seat he recognizes from one of the other upstairs rooms. She looks like she was watching someone out the window, hand held up like she was going to wave and a happy look on her face. The other hand was curled around her belly, a very clear baby bump visible under the blue of the dress.

He turns the final page, not expecting anything else but a dried flower falls into his lap.

Carefully picked up by the stem he holds it up, this he recognizes. It's a hibiscus flower, more of a deep red than the vibrant pink he usually associates with them but otherwise age has been kind to the flower.

It's carefully tucked back into the book and he gathers everything up in his arms before carefully taking it downstairs.

Robin is in the kitchen when he comes down, looking at the stuff in his arms with a raised eye brow.

"Hey Robin, do you know what these are? Like what plant they might be?"

He fishes out the little bag and hands them to the older women. She lets out a hum as she carefully opens it. The seeds are a mix of brown, fuzzy circles like shapes and tiny, ovals with some fluff at the top.

"I think these are hibiscus seeds." She carefully rolls the larger ones to one side of her hand and pokes at the smaller ones. "I'm not sure what these are. Usopp might know."

Almost like he'd been called, Usopp tumbles in the kitchen in a rush of boots on wood and the smell of sunshine.

"Have you guys seen Sanji? I stole some cookies he made for Nami and I think he knows."

"No, we haven't. May we steal you for a moment though?"

"Sure!"

Robin holds out the seeds for him to see.

"Ace would like help identifying these. I belive the one on the left are hibiscus but am unsure of the other one."

Usopp rubs his chin and looks at them closer.

"The one is definitely hibiscus. The other one is a wildflower, maybe goldenrod?"

Chopper run into the room and grabs at Usopp's pants.

"He knows! He knows about the cookies!"

The both take off around the corner and leave Robin and Ace in the dust.

He takes the seeds back and makes sure they're safely back in the bag.

"Thanks. Probably would have taken me forever."

"Of course." She smiles and looks out the window.

"I think your brother has decided it's time for us to move along."

Ace looks out the window and watches everyone climb into their monstrosity of an RV that's 100% not legal to drive but doesn't seem to stop them. There's fruit trees growing from the top and a giant lion painted on the side that they affectionately call Sunny. Luffy hangs from the side while Franky finishes something up under the hood.

~~

He couldn't help the way his eyes dart from Luffy to Zoro and back.

"Umm.. er..." He isn't sure how to ask.

Zoro looks pleased that he'd think that but they both shake their heads.

"No, his name is Tora-o! Besides, Zoro and Sanji are dating."

"Really?" He can't help the surprise in his voice and watches Zoro flush while smacking Luffy on the head. He can't say he saw that one coming but he can kind of see it if he thinks about it.

Sanji is elegant, if you ignore the fact that he can have a hell of a temper when provoked. He's a good balance for the wilderness that live dunder Zoro's skin.

Sanji has a goal and aspirations and while Zoro has goals as well, he's content to go where the flow takes him.

They go together well.

"Sanji spoils Zoro and makes him special stuff to eat but not me."

Ace laughs at the face Luffy makes. Always worried more about food than anything else.

~~

"You like the water a lot than, huh?"

Marco smiles and turns his gaze out to the horizon.

"I think I must have been unable to swim in a past life. I can't seem to get very far from the shore before it calls me back."

Ace pulls his knees up and rests his chin on them.

"You know, most people would have said they were a fish in their past life if they love water."

He knocks shoulders with the other man to show his teasing.

Marco bumps him back and stretches his legs out so the waves can pull at his feet.

"Nah. I think sometimes we love something so much because we must have been denied it at some point."

"So not a fish, maybe a desert lizard or something. Oh! A cactus!"

Marco laughs. "I was thinking more along the lines of maybe a bird. Although I suppose a cactus is possible."

~~

"My mom died giving birth to me, so I never knew her. My dad was.. we were never really close. He was gone a lot. I think he loved me but.." Ace trails off.

Thunder rumbles outside and shakes the window panes.

"I almost drowned when I was younger. My dad lost track of me and I went under. He got me out but the water in my lungs was dirty and gave me nasty infection. It was touch and go for awhile. I think he blamed himself. We were never the same after that and he died 2 years later."

The smell of cedar curls out of the fire to whisper against his cheek.

Marco's eyes burn indigo and gold from the fire, harsh shadows cast across his face.

"I'm sorry. I'm sure your mother loved you very much and your dad too. Sometimes it can be hard to show how much you care."

~~

Shanks was unusually stonefaced at the door, Benn next to him finishing a cigarette.

"Hey Shanks. I didn't know you were coming...?" He leaves his greeting open ended with hopes of getting a clue on what was happening but he doesn't get anything.

"Hey kid. Thought we'd swing by, see how it's going."

He lets them in and a door upstairs slams shut.

They all look up and Ace leds them to the kitchen when nothing else happens.

"You want a drink?"

"Yeah, actually that'd be great."

They don't say anything else while Ace gets the drinks and it's making him sweat.

He puts the drinks down and follows suit, sitting at the old oak table across from the two men and waits. He hasn't hung a clock yet but the sound of one ticking can be heard loud and clear.

A piece of the ceiling that he hasn't gotten around to fixing yet falls on Shanks head, who grumbls and looks up before taking a big drink.

"I know, I know."

He takes a deep breath and looks Ace in the eyes.

"Alright, this is something I should have done years ago but I wasn't sure how to do it. Probably didn't want to if I'm honest."

Ace swallows nervously and shots a look at Benn, who lifts another cigarette and lights it without saying anything.

"I told you when I gave you the house that'd I'd been holding onto it for someone. I was. It was someone who had been like a father to me growing up. His name was Roger and he lived here with his wife, Rouge."

He stops and takes another drink.

"Rouge died and Roger disappeared. If I'm being honest, I think he took off somewhere to die of a broken heart. He was devastated. Rouge would have kicked his ass if she knew what he'd done but he didn't know how to live without her anymore. They'd lived in this house with the intention of raising a family and it ended up empty."

"I'm sorry."

Ace isnt really sure what to say but it's clear this is hard for Shanks.

"It wasn't a good situation and he didn't handle it well. Roger was a good man. People who didn't knew him may say otherwise but he always did right by me. He took care of Rouge and his friends, everyone else was unimportant. Which, I suppose, may make him a bad man in a lot of people's eyes."

He puts the drink down and reaches in his pocket to take out a folded photo. He gazes at it for a moment before setting it down and sliding it over to Ace.

It was the couple. The man and women he'd seen in the sketchbook and now had names for, Rouge and Roger.

"I found some of their stuff. I didn't think about if you'd wa-... would you like it?"

It was hard to look away from the couple but he forced himself to look up.

"No. That's actually why we're here. Rogue and Roger were your parents."

The house is quiet, almost as quiet as the first time Ace had stepped foot in it.

"I don't understand. People always told me that my mom died giving birth to me and I knew my dad."

Benn puts out his cigarette when Shanks doesn't say anything and takes over.

"A friend of your dad took you in. We thought he'd be the best option. As for your mom, she did die during childbirth. Rouge lived long enough to hold you and give you your name before she died."

He wants to deny it. He wants to yell, tell them this was a stupid joke or that it doesn't make sense.

It does though. He'd never asked too much about his mom, already ached for a mother he never got to know and details would just hurt more. The man who he had known as his father hadn't looked like him. He doesn't doubt that the man cared but small things that hadn't made sense at the time now start to.

All of the sudden the photo is cruel. He can see his freckles on her face, his dark hair and stormy eyes on him, can see the shape of his face and eyes in both of them. All of it was looking back at him from a photo older than he was.

"This is cruel." His eyes sting but it wasn't anything to how his chest aches. "This is the cruelest thing you could have ever done to me."

They don't say anything and he doesn't want them to.

"Get out."

"...I'm sorry, Ace."

"Just get out." The front door is already open and he follows them as far as the threshold.

"They loved you." Shanks says.

"What am I suppose to do with that? What's suppose to hurt less in this situation? The idea that mom left because she died and Roger made the decision to leave because I wasn't enough of a reason to live or they loved me and you kept that from me?"

The door closes with a heavy sound and echoes through an empty house.

~~

[embersofhope-if]

46 with Creon, please? 👀

46: “ Can I kiss you right now? ”

Wordcount: 1.09k

I did write this for a relatively possessive Mc but other than that there aren't any trigger warnings

Escaping to the balcony does almost nothing to relieve the mounting headache that I can already tell is going to leave me sick for the rest of the night. It’s too much. The music, the shouting, the expensive perfumes that mix with the smell of the food; it’s all so nauseating.  

I want to leave. I just want to go back to my room and curl up under the covers and forget where I am. I’d pretend I’m back home; warm and safe in my own bed with Hope lying next to me. I’d pretend that I have no worries, and tomorrow would be full of nothing but school and stopping by the bakery to grab some bread. I’d pretend that people back home like me more than anyone here does. It’s not true, but if I’m going to play pretend, I might as well make the daydream as nice as it can get.  

I’m half tempted to just stay out here till the night is over. There are only two people in this entire city that would notice I’m gone, and I haven’t seen either of them since the night began. Uncle Keyon is probably off playing nice with some important person that I’ll never get the chance to meet, and Creon is off becoming the new politician that everyone is desperate to have a conversation with. I got a quick hello with them early in the night, but I haven’t had the chance to track them down again.  

They’re constantly moving; making sure that everyone is chasing them instead of them being the one forced to chase. It seems so exhausting, but they somehow manage to make it look easy. I should be proud of them; they’re making their dreams come true, but every time I watch them smile and laugh, I feel like I’m going to choke on my jealousy.  

Maybe that’s why I hate these parties so much. Every minute I’m forced to socialize with these people, I am constantly reminded that Creon Levesque will always belong to the Capitol and not me.  

I hate it. I hate everything here. The only thing about the Capitol that I don’t hate is Creon and they will forever be just out of my reach. There is no world where we could ever really be with each other despite what they try to tell me, and I’m forced to be okay with that.  

The fact that I can so easily be worked up over this might be what I hate the most. How am I supposed to prove to these people that I’m worth their time if I’m on the brink of tears whenever I think about Creon and me too long. Honestly, it’s incredibly embarrassing.  

I have to pull myself together.  

I take several breaths and lean onto the balcony trying to think about anything that isn’t the Capitol.  

Ash. Hope. Calliope. Home. Creon. 

Surprisingly it works. I’m able to take a deep breath without feeling like I’m drowning. The air is crisper than it is back home but it's close enough for me to pretend. I keep my eyes shut and lean farther onto the balcony as I continue to breathe; completely missing the fact that somebody has joined me. 

“It’s honestly impressive just how easily you manage to vanish.” 

 I open my eyes abruptly, startled by the familiar voice that breaks through my thoughts. Creon stands beside me, their gaze fixated on the city lights. A weak smile tugs at my lips. “I wasn’t trying to vanish; I just needed a moment.” 

Creon chuckles softly. “Well, I’m glad I found you. It’s overwhelming in there, isn’t it?” 

I nod in agreement, grateful for their understanding. “Yeah, it’s a bit much.” 

They lean on the railing beside me, their presence comforting. “You know, sometimes I feel the same way. All of this, it can get suffocating.” 

I meet their eyes, surprised by their admission. “Really?” 

Creon gives me a genuine smile. “Yeah, really. I mean I enjoy it but sometimes I get tired of everyone watching me; waiting for me to mess up.” 

Their vulnerability surprises me. Creon, of all people being tired of attention really isn’t something I expected. They’ve always seemed to thrive in the spotlight. Like they were made to be looked at and listened to, but that’s what they want everyone to see isn’t it? It’s so easy to believe it even when I know that’s not who Creon truly is. 

Their gaze shifts from the city lights to meet my eyes, and a fleeting emotion passes between us. “It’s all fake everybody knows it, yet we still do it anyways. I still do it anyways.” 

“Why do you do all of this if you know its fake?” I ask, only realizing how rude it sounded after I said it out loud. 

“Because it’s what I was made to do. It's who I am,” They respond contemplatively. They’re still staring at me and I feel like I can almost see the gears turning in their head. They want to say something else I can tell, but after a moment they shake their head apparently deciding that it wasn’t important.  

We both just stand there staring at each other. Their gaze so intense I think they might be trying to memorize every feature on my face, then they take another step closer, their hand grazing mine on the railing. “Can I ask you something?” 

I hold their gaze, my heart racing at the anticipation in the air. “Of course.” 

A soft smile graces Creon’s lips, their voice dropping to a gentle whisper. “Can I kiss you right now?” 

My heart skips a beat, and for a moment, the world seems to hold its breath. This is a distraction I can tell. Whatever they decided not to say is still racking their brain and half of me wants to stop and force them to tell me. But the other half of me is trapped in their eyes making it impossible to resist. With a mixture of nerves and excitement, I give a hesitant but eager nod. 

As Creon’s lips meet mine, the world around us fades into the background. It's as if all the doubts and worries melt away in that single, electrifying moment. The touch of their lips against mine feels like the culmination of all those unspoken words. For one heavenly moment Creon Levesque is here and they are completely and totally mine. 

[darlingmbappe]

When We’re Ready [2] | Kylian Mbappé x Fem Reader

[Part One] [Part Two]

Summary: After months of not getting pregnant, your mental health takes a big hit.

Warnings: SMUT! Minors, leave. Mentions of depression, slight angst, penetrative sex, oral (male receiving), brief self pleasure, cussing, google translated French, badly spell checked. Let me know if I missed anything! — English is not my first language —

Masterlist

The days were colder and the last snow of winter was sure to come any day now. Every morning, Kylian would leave bundled up and ready to train, and you’d stay home – left to your own devices with the same bitter thoughts you've collected over the past seven months. 

Getting laid off in early November seemed like a blessing in disguise, but sitting here in the chill of late February with nothing to do but wonder what the hell was wrong with your body made you realize it was more of a curse than a godsend. Maybe the universe was preparing your schedule for motherhood, you thought – needing time to ready the home for a newborn – time that you couldn't find with a job. But, still you remain jobless and without a child. Alone for most of the day, and sometimes days when Kylian went away.

Seven months seems like it’s too soon to feel this type of dreadful disappointment, especially since you’ve read it takes couples upwards of a year to get pregnant… but when you’ve prayed night after night, thoughts consumed with nothing but babies, listened to your husband raving about when the day finally comes, getting your hopes up just be let down once more… for seven months… it takes its toll. 

You were surprised when you heard a key jam into the front door, a mug full of lukewarm tea clung onto your chest as you watched trash TV in the living room, pajamas buried under the comforter you dragged directly from the downstairs guest room. You watched as Ky walked toward you with furrowed brows. 

“Hey.” His voice was gentle.

 “Hi.” You smile forcefully. “You’re home early.”

He hums and sits next to you on the couch. “Not really… It’s past six.”

When he said this to you, even with his tender tone, he hated how your face dropped with confusion, wondering how you spent your day cooped up in here. Of course he’d noticed your deteriorating emotional strength. He wasn’t so sure how to deal with all of this, also strained from having to pretend to be strong for the both of you. 

He kissed your cheek upon seeing your tears well up, pulling you into his body while you tried to hide your emotion. You laughed a little. “I’m sorry. I don’t know where that came from.”

He rubbed your back in an attempt to sooth you. “Don’t be sorry. It’s okay, mon coeur.”

You pulled yourself together surprisingly quickly, the veil of embarrassment not unnoticed by your perceptive husband, but doing his best to not bring it up and make you more aware of his knowledge. 

He ordered take out while you took a steaming shower, satisfied at the dinner table with a mouth full of chicken fried rice. Conversations flowed innocently, but your heart faltered a bit when you got that notification on your phone from your period tracking app – you were ovulating!

Great.

The distinct chime made your food so dry in your mouth, having difficulty swallowing it. You put your phone face down on the table, pretending you didn't both see and hear it. 

He stares at you for a bit. You’re looking down at your plate, saying nothing, not meeting his gaze – though you felt it. He puts his hand on yours. “Bebe…”

“Stop.” You grumble, avoiding his eye contact. “I’m not in the mood.”

He sighs, clanging his fork a little louder than he intended to in the twinge of frustration. He understood, but he just wished you wouldn’t be so hard on yourself. 

In December, you both had visited a fertility clinic to make sure all the gears were working correctly – and they were. It was amazing news that gave you both a fresh drive after months of let downs, but two months and four negative tests harshly dampened that high. You had been pretty hard on yourself, even if Doctor Laclairc said you had a pristine uterus and it just takes longer for some people. 

The noise clattering on his plate caused you to look up, annoyed. Kylian rubbed his temples with his head in his hands, biting the inside of his cheek. 

“What?” You barked. He pursed his lips and shook his head. He was holding back, you could tell. “Just say it, Kylian.”

“What do you want me to say?” He hissed from across that table.

“Whatever you’re not saying right now!”

He takes in a deep breath of air, trying his best to keep his head level. You pointedly stare at him, waiting for something to leave his mouth. He wiped his face with a napkin, tossing it back on the table. “You’re not the only one hurting.” He placed it softly, but you can hear the deep exasperation, emotionally exhausted. It shook you a little, having seen Kylian as a steady rock through all of this. His optimism had carried you through, letting yourself cry in his arms to find comfort. Sure, you knew he felt sad, but he hasn't let you see his devastation in full swing. “Do you think I’m in the mood? I’m not. It’s exhausting.” His eyes were slightly glossy as he expressed himself, voice loud but so unsure. You stare at him, silent. “But, we have to keep trying. I want this. You want this – I know how bad you want this. So, please. Give us a chance.”

His voice was so gentle at the end, emotions soaking every word that left his chest. You dipped your head down, knowing how you'd let your thinned patience steer your words and actions. Kylian never deserved the misguided anger that you let seep through. He’d been nothing but an anchor through these tolling seasons, putting your stability in front of his own.

He gets up out of his chair and slowly walks to yours, kneeling at your side where you sat and stared up at your teary eyes. 

With your hand now taken in his, he places a gentle thumb on your cheek, guiding you to look at him. “It’ll all be worth it.” He confirms, kissing the back of your hand. 

You sniffled, nodding as you turned your body toward him. Your arms wrapped so tightly around his neck and his around your middle. You both breathed in at first contact, some tears falling into the fabric of each other's shirts. The way he grasped you was allconsuming. It was a true embrace that you returned. He just felt like home.

You kiss his cheek, smooching the area until you place one on his lips. Now, holding his face and gazing into him, the strong wall he had built was knocked down. You saw the pain and urgency swirl in his irises. He pecks your lips, letting his hands roam slowly on your back.

You sigh as your lips quivered. All he did was run a thumb over your bottom lip, holding back his own exploding emotions. 

He stood and your eyes followed him now hovering over you, both his hands cradling your face – then the pair of you found yourselves under the covers in your shared bed once more. 

It’s funny. When you first started dating, the infatuation was supernatural. You wondered at the time how you could possibly ever be upset while he had his cock buried inside of you, stare bearing down into your soul with eyes that were made of magma, fingers so curious and ready to please as they got to know the terrain of your body. 

You hadn’t felt the same way about sex in months. It felt like a chore. An obligation demanded by a stupid, inconsequential chime from the app that cost you €2.99 a month. Kylian would have to work himself up half the time and you were just a hole until he filled you up. Aftercare rituals now only consisted of laying still on your back with your feet in the air. An orgasm felt selfish for reasons you couldn’t explain. It’s like you didn’t dare give yourself that primal pleasure because you had convinced your body didn’t deserve it, having failed you over and over again. 

This time, Kylian wanted to wash away the notion that your recent string of bad luck wasn’t caused by one individual or the other. Through his achingly slow actions, he showed you that you weren't just two separate people trying to accomplish a goal; not like when he jerks himself in the bathroom and puts his dick inside of you right before he came. You were together on this. A unified front. Bound to each other for life. 

He praised your weary body, working you up like he used to. Moving at a snail pace, taking his time, dragging his fingers everywhere on your skin. The ‘I love you’’s and the expressions of devotion he mumbled against you flooded your senses. The drag of his member that squeezed against your walls, the inexpressible and constant eye contact, the lost kisses and marks left behind… It was purely and literally making love. He made love to you. You made love to him.

A fortnight passed once more and it was time for your bi-weekly personal hell. Kylian grabbed one of the many pregnancy test boxes from the cabinet in your shared bathroom, opening it for you and setting it next to the toilet – the usual routine. 

He kissed your forehead. “I have a good feeling about this one.” Kylian mentioned with a grin on his face.

“I hate when you say stuff like that.” You mumble walking toward the small toilet room to leave Kylian alone by the his-and-hers sinks. 

He stops you with a hand on your arm. The look on his face was exasperated. “Come on.” He pleads. “Amour, you have to have a little bit of hope. This isn’t how we thought it was going to be like, and I know that. I feel that. But, can you please just… fake it? For me?”

You sigh with a hand on your forehead, then churning out a grin for your husband. “I have a good feeling about this one!” It was a little too enthusiastic. 

He chuckled slightly at how forced your words sounded, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear. “That was a really good try.” Kiss. “And I appreciate the effort.”

You shake your head with a breathy laugh, but the knot in your stomach stays put, even with the tiny little grin that found its way onto your face without permission.

You’d found the easiest and cleanest way to pee on that stick after doing it so many times. It was generally quick and you didn’t find it gross at all anymore. You set the capped test on the back of the toilet seat and grab some toilet paper. When you stood up, you looked into the bowl before flushing, and the knot in your stomach intensified. 

Kylian leaned against the marble with his arms crossed, looking up at you when you opened the door. “I’ll set the timer.”

You pressed your foot on the trash can pedal and threw the plastic stick inside. “Don’t bother.” You mutter, walking back into the bedroom and throwing yourself on the mattress, body turned opposite of Kylian.

He runs a hand over his scalp, feeling the anger simmering at the surface, letting his feet guide him out of the tiled room. He sees you laying on your side, staring at the wall.

“I don’t know what else to say to you!” He cries out, staring at your back as you curl further into the pillow. “We’re both doing our part. Everyone said it would take time. We knew this would take time! Not everything is going to go our way, but we cannot stop trying. I really need you to start believing we can do this. We can!”

“I can’t, Kylian!” You sob, letting yourself breakdown. This anguish was brutal and completely unforgiving. “I can’t do it.” Your words barely make a sound; calling it a squeak would even be generous. 

His heart breaks and it softens him up a little. He didn’t mean to shout, but everything has just been building and building up inside of him. “Hey…” He coos, crawling on the bed over to your side, holding you apprehensively while you cry into your pillow. He pressed you close to his body when he felt the shaking of your weeps, spooning your figure that jolted in tandem with your cries. “Shh, shh… I know it hurts, amour. I know.”

“Something’s wrong with my body, Kylian. I don’t care what Doctor Laclairc said. She got it wrong. I know she did. I’m so sorry.” 

“No, no, bebe. Nothing is wrong with you.” He squeezes you tighter. “Nothing is wrong with your body. Even if we find out that this isn’t part of our journey, I will never stop loving you. Okay?” His assurance only made you turn into him, burying your face in his shirt, leaving a wet stain in your wake. 

You took a couple of deep breaths in an attempt to calm yourself, only succeeding in halting your wails of sadness, but the tears still fell freely. “I just got my period.” You confess, feeling a wave of shame and guilt once more about your failure to conceive. The bloody toilet paper was a haunting image in your mind. Kylian shuts his eyes and just squeezes you, trying his hardest to make you see that it was okay. “I can’t take this anymore, Kylian, I can’t. I’m so sorry.”

He shakes his head, absolutely wrecked by the sight of your broken down persona. He’d catch you staring off into space, a depressing dullness surrounding what used to be an incredibly compelling aura. You were a shell of yourself for months now; going through the motions of daily life with a dark vail behind your eyes, losing interest in the things that used to make you happy. 

He silently cried, but you felt the drops on top of your head. “It’s okay.” He murmurs in a shaky voice. “We can start trying again in the future. Maybe it wasn’t time for us yet.”

You sob again. “I’m so sorry.”

“Don’t apologize. You’re okay. We’re okay, amour.”

You continue to cry, Kylian finally allowing his tough-guy front drop in this moment of vulnerability. For better, for worse, in sickness, in health, ‘till death parts you from one anothers soothing embrace, you are together through it all.

The months leading up to that next summer were mundane. You’d found another job after coming to the realization that you weren't cut out to be the cute stay-at-home wife, but instead craved some sort of responsibility of your own. Kylian felt like you shouldn’t even have one because he could easily take care of you. Being married, his money was your money, but it was never about the money for you. You needed to dig yourself out of your depression hole sooner rather than later, and a consistent schedule was sure to be a nice addition to the rebuild of your mental health. Thank god for time off, though. Your bosses were huge Mbappé fans (like huge), and you weren’t past milking that for whenever you needed a couple days. You never took advantage of their generosity, but it was nice to know you could. 

Summer in Paris this year had been nice, but Greece had won your heart. Kylian’s cousin’s destination wedding had been planned on a secluded portion of Corfu. The resort was huge and the pair of you were able to sneak away from your usual work duties for two days to attend. The private jet made for an easy travel plan and really any excuse to use it was sufficient enough. 

The last time you’d seen most of Kylian’s family was a year ago – that night you couldn’t keep it in your pants. You had spiraled when you got to thinking about seeing them again a couple weeks ago, pleading with the gods that none of them asked about you and Ky having children. It’s been a little over five months since you decided to put the thought of babies on the back burner. Closing in on half a year and it is still painful. Mentally, you both were prepared to welcome a bundle of joy. The pregnancy books Kylian had picked up were buried deep in drawers you never thought about opening. You’d finally gotten your sex drive back in these months, having to re-learn to separate the pleasurable act with the tedious work of baby making. 

Sometimes you guys used condoms, sometimes you didn’t. Still, your period came and went like clockwork. You still hadn’t erased that little habit of resenting your shedding uterus every month, but you definitely felt like you were making progress. 

“This is nice.” You compliment the outdoor beachfront venue, walking hand in hand with your husband into the reception. 

He looks around. “Yeah, makes me rethink our wedding.”

You scoff. “Shut up! Our wedding was awesome.”

He laughs. “Relax! Jokes, jokes…” He goofily defends, walking you both over to the open bar and ordering you a drink. “Martini?” He double checks. 

“Please.”

He nods, ordering himself a whiskey coke, leaving the young bartender a tip that made his eyes almost pop out of his head.

For most of the night, you had to keep biting your tongue at the waves of people that came up to Kylian and asked for pictures. Sure, they were nice about it, but he was just trying to enjoy himself – and Kylian didn’t like telling people no. Especially not his cousin's friends. Him being whisked away left you clinging onto Ethans side most of the night, finding that Wilfried and Fayza were preoccupied with spending time with the family they didn’t get to see very often.

But, oh, the wandering eyes of a sixteen year old boy threatened to leave you on your own when he spotted a young girl about his age scrolling on her phone with the most bored look on her face. 

“Ethan, no!” You whined as he brushed his suit of any pieces of lint, ready to get up and greet her. “Don’t leave me, please.”

He laughs. “Dude, you can’t keep a lion in its cage.”

You made a stank face at his bad metaphor. “That doesn't even make sense.”

“Ya-huh.” He enunciated back, typical sibling tone. “Me – Ethan – is the lion. Mystery hot girl,” he points, “a gazelle. You – sister in law– cage.”

You roll your eyes, noting to have a conversation with Kylian about his little brother's ego. “This is a family wedding, Ethan.”

“So?”

“So, what if she’s like a distant cousin.”

He makes a grossed out face. “Why would you say that? She is not my cousin.”

“You don’t know that, little man.”

“Don’t call me little man.”

“Aw, is little man embarrassed?” You coo, teasing grin plastered on your face.

“No, shut up!”

“But, you’re an adorable wittle man.” You baby-talk, reaching over and pinching his cheek. He swats your hand away as you laugh at him.

“Stop!” He stands up and smooths out wrinkles. “I’m taller than your husband.” He reminds you. “Little man, my ass.” He scoffs, giving you the middle finger teasingly and secretively in case his family saw the obscene gesture. You discreetly give one back as he walks toward the girl, a flirty pep in his step while approaching her. 

You sigh to yourself, looking around and noticing that you didn’t actually know where Ky was. Last time you checked, the groomsmen had bombarded him with selfies by the DJ booth while he tried to have a conversion with his great auntie. You grab your martini and get up from the fountain ledge you sat on, a little tipsier than you thought you were. You stopped and looked around for him.

“Cute, right?”

You look to your left to wherever that feminine voice came from. A blonde middle aged woman in a red dress stands next to you holding a glass of champagne. 

“Sorry?” You ask, unsure if she was talking to you or not.

The lady points to a table a few yards away – and there he was. Kylian sat talking to some people, a toddler resting on his lap. He had a huge smile on his face, poking at the little girl's cheek to get her to giggle. You grinned at the sight, loving seeing him so happy.

You turn back to the woman to respond when you look down at her dress. She was pregnant. Very pregnant. She tips back her champagne. “Don’t worry. It’s ginger ale.” You nod at her, chuckling a bit. “Kylian’s your boyfriend, isn’t he?”

You turn your attention back to him just as the little girl stuck her whole fist in his whiskey, taking a piece of ice and trying to put it in her mouth. You laugh out loud when he frantically tries to pry her little hand open. Successful, he meets your eye and his smile was radiant and full of life, shaking his head. 

“He’s my husband, actually.”

She looks down at the empty martini glass in your hand. “No kids yet.” Her British accent was thick and assertive. 

You shake your head at the stranger and set the empty glass down on the empty table next to you. You felt a little awkward having this conversation with someone you don’t even know the name of. She must be some extended family or the wife of a distant cousin. She seems kind, but you weren’t big on sharing your personal life with anyone you didn't trust, much less know. Especially since you’ve been with Kylian, what you say affects him. He’s in the under bright spotlight and scrutiny of the public, and if you’ve learned anything while being with a global star, it is that some people will stop at nothing to get a story.

The woman tips back the rest of her ginger ale and sets her glass down next to yours. “Are you guys trying?”

She has an audacious look now that she stands in front of you and it makes you feel unsettled. “I’m sorry?”

The lady laughs a little. “I just wondered if you and Kylian planned on starting a family any time soon.”

You couldn’t stop the bewildered look that now took over your features. “Uh…” was all you could really say. You don’t know this woman, she doesn’t know you. It’s a loaded question and frankly quite bold of her to come up to you and ask. “What?”

“Kids.” She repeated, apparently not caring about the uncomfortable shift in mood. 

You opened your mouth, but had no idea what to say. You stuttered and tried to calm down with a forced chuckle. “What did you say your name was?”

She discreetly huffed.“Scheana Kingsley.” 

Definitely familiar, but you just couldn’t place your finger on it. “Right.” 

She waits. “So… any comment?”

“Hello.” Thank god. Fayza. She put a warm hand on your shoulder, perceptive to how tense you looked with this woman. “Scheana.” Fayza sighed. “Laurence is over by the cheese platters.” You loved how politely she just dismissed her.

The Scheana lady forced a smile at her. “Oh. Thank you.” She waved a hand goodbye with a disappointed breath. “Good talking to you.”

Your mother in law turned to you with a much clearer show of annoyance. You laugh lightly in disbelief. “Scheana Kingsley… should I know her?”

“You probably know about her. She writes for some news-gossip-pop-culture magazine.” She informs you. “Well, calling it news is charitable.”

“Unbelievable.” You scoff, crossing your arms at the revelation. “Who let her in here?”

“She’s married to Laurence over there. We try to keep our distance from them.”

From across the patio, Kylian turns his stare at you and his mother talking. You looked annoyed and frustrated, which made him so nervous. He excused himself from the small talk and speed walked over, thinking he might have to diffuse the situation – or maybe even get a scolding from his mother and his wife. God, he really hopes you two weren’t talking about him.

“My beautiful ladies.” He greets, kissing his mothers cheek then yours. “Everything okay?”

You smile at him. “You been having fun?”

“Yeah. Lot’s of fun.” He looks between the two of you. “You two are good, though?”

“Oh, no, we're fine.” You laugh it off.

“I saved your wife here from a conversation with Scheana Kingsley.” Fayza mentioned.

He shakes his head, scoffing a bit. “That woman… She has ambition, that’s for sure.” Now you remember why she sounded so familiar. Kylian had complained about his thrice removed family member’s new girlfriend a few years back and how she was a pushy reporter for The Paris Culture Magazine. “I’m surprised Laurence has kept her around for this long. What’d she say to you?”

They both turned their attention to you, waiting for you to say something. You shrug, but Kylian noticed the trepidation in your stare. “Nothing, really. Just some weird questions… I don't know.”

Thankfully, Fayza didn’t push it further, but you knew Kylian’s assuring hand on your waist meant that he knew something was up. You hadn’t asked Kylian if he’d shared with his parents that you were trying to get pregnant, but you doubted it. You would have noticed her demeanor change around you, given you saw her quite frequently. Besides, he would have checked with you before sharing that information with anybody.

There seemed to be a pattern occurring with you and Kylian leaving family events early, but the two of you were not only exhausted, but just not having a good time. The drunker the bridal party got, the more confident they felt hounding Kylian for selfies and videos. As for your mood, it was in a steady downward spiral ever since your interaction with Scheana. Just locking eyes, you both understood that it was time to surrender back into your suite. 

He held your hand out of the elevator, swinging your arm back and forth. The pair of you had an overly tipsy pep in your step from the drinks you’d forgotten to count through the night.

“You look gorgeous tonight.” He kissed your cheek, a smirk overtaking his face.

You giggle shyly as he unlocks the door to your room, letting you walk in first. You went directly to the bathroom, your bladder begging for some relief. Kylian wandered in to brush his teeth as you turned the shower on, taking your jewelry off as you let the water warm up. 

Kylian looked at your reflection in the mirror, shirt buttons completely undone. You were dazed. Quiet. He hated that look. He’d seen it take over you for months and finally, you were getting better. 

He spit the toothpaste in the sink. “What’s wrong, bébé?”

“Huh? Oh. Nothing. I’m fine.” You turn your back to him. “Will you unzip me?”

He turns, slowly pulling the tiny zipper all the way down. He kissed the skin where your neck met your shoulder. “Did Scheana say something to make you upset?”

You shrug, taking the dress off and neatly hanging it on the towel rack. “She couldn’t have known. I don’t think she meant any harm.” You hop in the shower, shutting the foggy glass door and let the hot water run over you.

Kylians blurry figure leaned against the other side to continue talking to you. “What’d she say?”

“Just asking questions.”

“About?”

A big sigh leaves you. “Us, I guess.” Kylian listens, knowing you have more to say but are just keeping it bottled up. There was always a clear guide of communication between you two, especially because you were really good at letting things eat you up from the inside. You fiddle with your wet hair and Kylians frame behind the foggy glass stayed put. “She just… It was just weird. She wanted to know if we had plans to have kids anytime soon.” You chuckled, hiding your dejection with the sound. “I didn’t know what to say.”

“That’s not okay.” He indicates. “I’m sorry she badgered you tonight, cherie. She crossed a line.” He sounded a little angry.

“Don’t worry about it, baby. It’s fine.” He opens the shower door, causing you to jolt a little. He steps in, raking his eyes over your naked wet body quickly, and you his. “Yeah, sure, you can join me.” You joke as he reaches for the soap bar.

“It’s not fine.” He discards your dismissiveness, rubbing your shoulders with the foam. “I’m gonna talk to Laurence about that.”

You melt into his touch. “No, really, you don’t have to–”

“I’m going to.” He whispers, kissing your cheek. “No one makes my wife upset and gets away with it.” His hands roamed down your arms. “My hot wife.” His breath tickled your ear. “My sexy wife.” He presses his body to yours, nudging your cheek with his nose until you turn your face, kissing you feverishly. 

You hum involuntarily into his mouth when his tongue decides to poke its way in, hand now feeling you up, tits squished between his fingers.

“Someone’s eager.” You laugh as he forces you to turn around, the hot water beating your back. 

He bites the side of your neck dramatically and you laugh harder, pushing him away playfully – but he pulls you back into his chest, smiling dotingly with you safe between his arms.

“You wanna?” He wiggles his eyebrows.

You made a pensive face, pretending to really think about it. “I could be convinced.”

“Yeah?” 

“Maybe.” You smirk as he bites his grinning lips, hands lowering and squeezing your ass harshly. 

“Do you know how hot you looked in your dress tonight?” He continued feeling you up, dick pressed against your thigh, slowly getting harder by the second. “I swear, I was so close to sneaking off to some empty part of the beach and bending you over. Driving me crazy.”

Your hands ran down the rigid muscles on his chest, feeling electric under his burning stare, hot at the thought of him fucking you out of impulse. “Do I make you feel all hot and bothered?” You ask, his stare is so dark. So needy. You lean in only a little, teasing a kiss on his lips, but never truly meeting their plush touch. “Do you start thinking about what you would do to me? Thinking about touching me? Fucking me?” He growls at your words, tilting his face forward to try and steal a kiss. “Show me.”

He grips the flesh of your ass and pulls you even closer to him, frantically showing you his desire for you with a hungry kiss. Your arms wrap around his neck and he moves his hands upward and begins pawing at your exposed breasts. The steaming water dripping down your entwined bodies made everything slick, slippery, conditions that caused you both to grip to each other's bodies for security.

You reach a hand down and grab his growing cock, pumping it loosely, trying to get him fully erect. A moan vibrates out of his throat as your movements focus on his sensitive tip, thumbing the slit, feeling him grow and stiffen in the palm of your hand.

You kiss down his neck, then move to whisper to him, sultry as ever. “Am I doing something like this when you fantasize?”

He nods under your spell, eyes drooping in pure lust. “Uh-huh. Just like that.”

Gaining control over him, you waddle your bodies back until his back hits the wall. He shivers at the cold tile in the steamy shower, but forgets all memories of the chill when you kiss down his neck, lowering your body on your knees, hands trailing down so slowly, mouth inches from his swinging member. His hips jut forward and it hits your cheek. You follow it with your mouth, letting it graze your lips in passing. The blinking stare and batting lashes almost drew blood on his lower lip from how hard he bit it. 

“Open up, ange.” Angel, he called you, but you were so sinful. On his knees in front of him. Droplets reflecting off your skin from the harsh light. His eyes felt undeserving of seeing you so ready to praise him. It made him feel so mortal, so lucky. He thanked the higher power that brought you to him, feeling an intense desire to take care of you – tend to your every wish.

You took hold of him with a sure fist, darting your tongue out and licking one long strip from his base to his mushroom head, letting your lips wrap around him and sucking to hear his moan. His face scrunched. His skull lulled into the wall.

You took him in your mouth a little over halfway, moving your mouth in tandem with your hand, enjoying the way his cock nudged against the back of your throat continuously to your rhythm.

“Oui, dieu.” God, yes. He fisted the back of your sopping wet hair, pulling you off of him and forcing you to look up at him. “Touch yourself for me, baby.”

You shut your mouth and swallowed harshly. He ran his thumb against your lips, hooking it on your bottom row of teeth, opening you up once more. Your tongue licked the pad of his finger, dipping your hand between your legs and quickly finding your clit. Your brows furrowed and your eyes widened. As the moan slipped from your throat, he placed your face directly back to his throbbing cock. Now, he had control of your movements, using your hair as a handle for his intentions, guiding your mouth up and down his shaft in quick movements. You gagged when he began thrusting concurrently to the tempo he stuffed you into his pelvis, heavy heaves and grunts erupting from his chest.

You gargled and gagged on your own spit and moans of pleasure from your own fingers, tasting the salty precum that dripped from your chin as you harshly sucked off your loving husband. You kept your vision from squinting together as you met his eyes through teary eyelashes. He fucked your face like you hadn’t had sex in years, rough with his actions and getting off on the way you were taking it. 

His dick disappeared inside your mouth swiftly and urgently until he couldn't resist. He stopped thrusting, looking deep into your eyes – mouth still stuffed with him. He pushed his hand, demanding you take every inch of him down your open throat. You choked on him, the muffle of your gagging making him see stars.

You hit his thigh after a few seconds and he pulled his hand away. You gasped for air, noticing for the first time how sore your knees were against the hard tile. He let out a long hiss at the loss of your mouth, watching through heavy blinks as you sat against the opposite wall in the small area – knees red and patterned with the lines from the floor. Your chest moved with your big breaths, smiling and commending yourself for the avidity in Kylian’s eyes. 

With your knees pulled to your chest, you slowly opened your legs, fingers playing with yourself as you made a show of how good you were making yourself feel. His pupils dilated at the way you ran your free hand across your thigh then up your chest, pitching a pulling your nipple with your lip tucked between your teeth. 

He whined – a desperate noise that came up naturally. He reached down to touch himself to the sight of you, pumping a slow fist against himself. His long strokes teased his tip until he shuddered, eye contact non-negotiable. You couldn’t look away if you tried. Your swirling moans echoed in the small chamber – his eyes glued to the way your own fingers stretched and spread your pussy. Your own were attentive to the tug at the nape of his base. Though, you both looked up at the same time, hypnotized by your partners mutual ogling. He steps forward, hand still on himself. You reach for his hand and he helps you up, immediately pulling you by the small of your back into his lips, tongue lapping yours, absolutely famished. 

He had clocked the little ledge in the corner from the second he walked into the intimate shower. He put his hand out behind you so the edge wouldn't hurt you, then used his strength to hoist your slippery skin up onto it. He placed himself between your legs, your back pressed to the wall, the shelf only fitting half of your rear — but it was the perfect height for him to fuck you like he wanted to. 

He lined himself up quickly and desperately spreading your pussy wide open for him, pushing in and dragging out. One long moan came straight from your throat, clinging onto his neck to keep yourself in that same position. 

“Fuck.” He grumbled. “You feel so good.” His pace was deadly, tip poking and poking that spot. It made your eyes cross, resting your damp head on the wall. “Been wanting to do this all night. Merde. Les choses que tu me fais, tu me rends fou.” Shit. The things you do to me. You make me fucking crazy.

You moaned in response, too focused on the way his neatly trimmed pelvis rubbed against your clit every time he pushed inside of you. It felt euphoric. Magical. Goddamn perfect. The only words you could muster out made him giggle through his heaves. “Please don’t slip.”

Your arm knocked over a few shampoo bottles when he buried himself deeply inside of you and stopped – making you borderline scream from how deep he actually was, and this position made everything feel… more.

He groaned so loudly, his mouth in the shape of an ‘O’, and you understood why when you felt him cumming inside of you, hot spurts surely dripping out. You didn't notice him biting your forearm until he let go of it, keeping his mouth against you before turning to look into your eyes. A slightly apologetic look turned cocky when one hand reached for your sensitive nub, rubbing just the way you like it, still inside of you.

“Oh, shit…” You breathed, eyes connected to the way he pleased you. “I’m fucking close.”

“Vulgar tonight, are we?” He teased your language, a tired smirk on his face.

“You just…” you begin, but he shuts you up with a small unprecedented thrust. “Fuck!”

He hisses, not really being able to take the overstimulation, but continuing to push into you sporadically – purly for your pleasure. Thankfully, it didn’t take you long to reach your climax. 

He didn’t need the warning upon feeling your legs give out slightly, pressing against you to keep you on the shelf. They started shaking as your eyes closed, a fierce moan exploding from your wet parted lips. He moved his hips with a contorted face until he felt you calm down, now whining and whispering to the touch of his fingers as they slowed down, pressing down harder on you before disappearing altogether. 

You pat his back lazily and he pulled out of you carefully, setting your wobbly legs on the slippery floor. You’d completely forgotten the shower was on as you watched it drain down. Kylian held your waist steadily, both breathing heavy. He lands two gentle taps on your bum. “Let's not waste anymore water, yeah?” 

The vacation, though brief, was absolutely refreshing. It gave time that you and Kylian needed to feel closer. The offseason couldn’t come soon enough. You didn’t have to revolve around his schedule during those weeks because he was just home already. To you, there was nothing better than coming downstairs at 2pm on a Tuesday and seeing Ky there, drinking orange juice straight from the bottle, or being able to binge a series with him much quicker because he had time for more than just two episodes. By all means, being married to him shouldn’t be easy, and it’s not necessarily that simple… but it should be way harder. Maybe you were just more patient, but you’re almost certain it has everything to do with him. He made time. He made an effort. He tries his damn hardest. How could you possibly hold that against him?

You didn’t notice the way you were staring at him, chin in the palm of your hand, daydreaming about your entire history with Kylian Mbappé – a man with no time to spare, but he damn well made sure you fit in his schedule. 

“Why are you staring at me like that?” He grins, setting down his coffee across the table from you in your shared Parisian home. 

You blink, smiling in embarrassment. “No reason.”

You push some eggs around on your plate. He leans forward. “What were you thinking about?”

You shrug at him, still smiling. “Greece.”

His laugh gave away his fondest memory of that trip. “We gotta do that trip again soon, amour.”

“Yeah, like they’d give you that kind of time off twice within two months.”

His head shakes, snickering at that complete impossibility. “I think they’d send me a fee for even asking.” He looks at the time on his phone. “I should probably get going, though.” He gets up and collects his things.

“Drink lots of water today, okay? It’s supposed to get really hot around noon.”

“Yes, dear.” He drones jokingly, smirking as he makes his way over to you, pecking you quickly. “Love you.”

You squeeze his hand quickly. “Love you, too.”

Now, your separate days begin – his a little earlier than yours, but you still just wanted to envelope yourself back inside the covers. You were thinking about calling out sick, which wouldn't be a complete lie. The scrambled eggs were not sitting right this morning, or maybe it was the Thai restaurant you ate at last night. Either way, you couldn’t remember where you put the Pepto-bismol. The empty space in the medicine cabinet left you wondering if Kylian had drunk up the last bit and hadn’t bought a new one yet.

You maintain your breathing steady to keep yourself from throwing up as you shuffle through the drawers. Praying it was in the last one, you pull it open desperately, but only facing three boxes of pregnancy tests. The rush of everything fell still, the air much quieter as you got flashbacks from last year.

You didn’t let yourself think about it much, but you never really got over not getting pregnant. Mentally and emotionally, you were still there. The pain and devastation got easier to mask, but they stayed with you.

It was time you got over it, or at least lost the fear of not being able to have children... the fear of not being able to provide Kylian with a child. If you kept on being bitter about this whole ordeal, you don't know if you'd ever be in the right headspace to try for a baby ever again.

You stare at the tests and shake your head. “Fuck it.” 

You snatch one from the drawer and beeline to the bathroom, peeing on the stick and thinking about how dumb it was that you had let this trivial little test ruin your for months. This time, you wouldn’t feel the dread collect inside your stomach. It would be okay. It wouldn’t hold power over you anymore.

Immediately walking out, you press down on the pedal of the trashcan and you watch it fall into the bin, feeling proud of yourself for not caring about that little plastic stick or what it had to say about your body. You weren't pregnant right now… and that's okay. 

You sigh, a proud feeling swirling with sadness was still progress. 

“Oh, no.” You mumble, feeling your stomach churn and running back toward the toilet, puking horrifically. It was a bad one. Maybe calling out sick was for the best. Who knows, it could be a stomach bug and contagious… but, unfortunately, you felt a lot better afterwards. 

It was probably best if you went to work. There’s a promotion you’ve been chasing and you had just taken those days off for the wedding last month. Trudingly, you got ready to leave the house, rushing a bit since you hadn't realized how late in the morning it was. 

Thank god you went. It was a hectic day; some project deadline wasn’t met and, for some reason, people turned to you for the solution. You were still relatively new at the company, but today, you really felt like you were doing something right. You left the office with a pat on the back from your big boss. That felt amazing. Kickin’ ass and taking names.

You were late coming home, texting Ky to let him know that you wouldn't be there when he got back. He texted back a simple:

Ky: :(

To which you responded with:

You: Bad day?

Ky: Just miss you. You were on my mind a lot today

You frown while walking to your car, wanting to get home quickly and hug him tightly.

You: Baby :( I’m on my way home now. 

You: I have a big kiss just for you <3

The second you walked through the door about half an hour later, Kylian embraced you tightly, taking you by surprise but you easily fell into his arms. You could feel his stress radiating from his body as he followed at your foot around the house. He was quiet in asking if you wanted to take a shower, but his eyes were loud in telling you he just needed to be close to you tonight. 

It was an innocent shower, his silent begging for a back rub and skin-to-skin contact was obvious as he kept his hand warmly on you at all times.

“You okay, hun?” You ask gently, tracing the frown line between his eyebrows after turning the water off.

He nods, eyes sleepy even though it was only eight o'clock at night. “Have you eaten?” He changes the topic, opening the shower door and wrapping you in a towel.

You shrug. “I haven't really been hungry today.” Ever since you threw up this morning, the thought of eating made you grimace. “Did you feel weird after last night's Thai?”

“I felt fine. Why? Is your stomach bothering you?”

You shake your head no as you shuffle through your drawers. “Just a little queasy this morning.”

You both get dressed quickly and lazily, surprised at how early you were deciding to turn in. Kylian was quite a bit needy tonight, pawing and tugging you close to him while he put on Pretty Little Liars… He would deny it to anyone, but he was obsessed with that show. 

“What the hell is she wearing?” He tusks at the screen, apparently not approving of Spencer's outfit for the Prom. 

You giggle into his chest, shaking your head slightly. “I’m gonna go pee.” You pat his bare chest and leave his side, hopping over to the ensuite. 

You wanted to be quick about it, your feet cold from the chilly tile and lack of socks. Kylian had opened a new toothpaste packet and left the empty box on the counter. You roll your eyes. He’s notorious for leaving things that should be trash anywhere but the trash can – an unfortunate side effect of having someone pick up after you as a professional athlete. You bitterly grab the cardboard box and press your foot down on the petal of the trashcan, but freeze when you spot the pregnancy test you took that morning. You wanted to look at it.

Is it worth looking at it? You hadn't even thought about it all day, which is a huge step for you. Only a few months ago, you would have been debilitated at work – and you sure as hell wouldn't have been able to step up like you did. You would have been crying quietly in your cubicle, taking far too many bathroom breaks. 

But… it was winking at you. Calling your name. Taunting you face down in the plastic liner. 

With a gulp and a deep breath in, you shook your head disapprovingly at yourself. It’s gonna be negative, you think, preparing yourself for disappointment as you fish it out of the bin. You gave a deep sigh before letting your eyes trail down to your hand where the thing burned a hole on your skin. 

The gasp that came from your mouth was severe, loud, alarming. 

Two lines. Pregnant. 

“Oh my god.” You mumble, much too quietly for Kylain to hear you behind the closed door. You begin laughing as it settles in what you’re seeing. “Oh my god! Kylian!” You desperately call. “Kylian!”

“What happened?” Kylian shoots out from under the covers and your current brain functions were a little crossed as you gaped at the test. The positive test. “Babe?” He comes into the bathroom with a furrowed and concerned look. “Are you okay?”

You respond with a look he was unfamiliar with. Immediately noticing the tears that had collected on your lash line, he reached for you. You couldn't tear your eyes away from him, seeing him for the first time as the father of the child inside your stomach. “Kylain.” He had never heard his name come from your lips with as much affection as it did right now.

He gladly took the hug you attacked him with, but the mood inside the bathroom was a little bewildering. 

“What’s going on, amour?” He coos, but you can only sob joyfully into his shoulder, holding the test behind his back as you embrace him – staring at the double lines like it would suddenly turn in one and you'd realize that this was never real. But it was. The results were right there in the palm of your hand. He mistook your cries for sadness, placing an assuring hand on the back of your head. “Tell me what’s wrong.” His voice was so soft.

“I love you so much.” You smile, pulling back and planting a long, wet kiss on his unexpecting lips. 

He’s so confused. “I love you too…” He raises an eyebrow when your hand meets his, an object placed in his palm. “What is this?” He asks before looking at it.

It takes a second for it to process, and you find yourself wishing you had a photographic memory, wanting to see his first face of realization again and again for the rest of your life. His eyes might as well have fallen out of his head with how wide his eyes went. 

“Wha…” He stutters, completely transfixed on the test. “Is this real?!” He finally looks at you, excitement would be the biggest understatement of the century.

“Of course it is.” You squeak, still clinging onto your husband as you both look at the stick. “I’m pregnant.”

“You’re pregnant.”

“I’m pregnant.” You both take a big breath in, crying simultaneously, absolutely elated. 

Kylian stares at the stick with a squinty and wrinkly smile before he looks at you — eyes tender and grateful. He drops the stick in the sink basin, grabbing your face with his two large hands, forehead pressed to yours to let the moment really register. He kisses you as best he could with the smile that engulfed his features, wrapping you up in his arms, truly holding you. 

“I love you.” He whispers from his chest, an earth shattering smile finding a permanent home on his face. “We’re having a baby.”

A/N: Okay, I don't hate it, but it's not my fav. It's finals in uni and I'm a wee bit preoccupied with those responsibilities. Still though, I think I had some good parts in here! It's mostly just the ending that's bugging me. Also, I know nothing about pregnancies and all that jazz so this is pure Google info so I apologize for any inaccuracies!

Taglist: @trentione @mentalbaddie @neymarsrealgf @akiraquote @mrswhitethornbelikov @kymb-10 @formula101x @photmath @marcelineslove @tsikik @iheartkyky @freshfraise @jokertbh @germanapples @urfuturesoccerwife @nightlockcornucopia @laylaynaynay130 @starlight8374 @depressoesssspresso @mbappesbae @ maddyperrezz @gigiboss @xanjoy @lovekm @jkkiks @vvbasmavv-blog @suzysface @ lolarmy72 @lizzz2967 @kylians-world @footballfeverr @superswaggycooch @shashla @mehrmonga @abayo222 @missmo79 @tties24-7 @gurleenkl @drewstarkeysbae @ vibinwkay @ctn26 @ippid @i0veless @abayo222 @b-bradshaw @http-isabela @zoeeeruiz @mitruscity @kenanlotus0 @mbapbaesluvr @alwaysclassyeagle @nhatquynh @philipetchebest @ricsaigaslec @dfswfvf @urfav-tz @kylianswag @fanatica2023 @alexisquinnlee-bc @megannandrewss @christianpulisic10 @pleasantducktimetravel @forevernightmaree @sachaa-ff @neymarloverxxx @4nn4rchive @lunamelona

[mxcnliight]

I’m in love with your writing, god tier dirty talk!!! Could I request a fic with ceo Yoongi having a breeding kink and getting down with his wife to create an heir… if you’d be into that. You can change whatever you’d like I just love your writing!!

need help? (myg) | m

your husband Min Yoongi is off to work again but you miss his attention. he has been non stop working ever since he inherited his fathers company. tonight he comes home and asks you to help him with his burden, in reward he will give you something you guys have always wanted…

Paring: CEO!Yoongi x Fem!Reader

Theme: One shot; SMUT, PWP, fluff, angst (just a bit)

Rating: Mature

Word Count: 2.5K

Warnings: sexual tension; dirty talk; swearing; teasing; oral sex (f receiving); handjob; spanking (?); love making; p in v penetration; breeding kink; unprotected sex + creampie (use a CONDOM, unless you want to get pregnant like in this fic)

A/N: hey love! yes I totally can and I hope you like this :)). Thank you so much for the nice compliments it makes me happy!! I'm sorry it took me so long to get to you! School is getting in the way of my writing lol, happy reading

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

You are in the kitchen, over the sink, washing the dishes. It’s after six, another night without your husband. He’s been overloaded with work these days, barely having any time to spend with you at home.

Of course, you understand his need for work, but you miss him. He usually comes home, warms up leftovers from dinner, eats them and then goes into your shared bedroom to rest.

There has been barely any communication between you guys. You only say “Good morning,” “Have a good day at work,” “I love you,” and that’s mostly it.

He only hums before giving you a goodbye kiss and then leaving for work. Ever since Yoongi's father made him inherit the company, he has been working hard 24/7.

You wish you could help him with that burden but there’s not much you can do. You’re a stay-at-home wife, Yoongi told you that he didn’t want you to feel the need to work with how much money he gets paid.

Your daily life consists of making meals, cleaning the house, and being there for him. You don’t mind it, you know how stressed he has been and how much he cares for you.

There’s just one thing, there has been no action in your life recently. The last time you guys had sex was about two weeks ago. You tried bringing yourself to an orgasm by yourself, but it just wasn’t the same.

His touch is the only thing that can make you cum, so you hope one of these days he will finally be stressed enough to go down on you again. Surprisingly, you hear the door open.

You whip your head around to see Yoongi in the door frame, taking off his work shoes. He isn’t home this early usually so you wonder what the reason is for his sudden arrival.

“Welcome home honey, dinner is in the fridge,” you say, looking back at the dishes, beginning to wash them again. You hear his footsteps approaching you as you feel Yoongi’s arms wrap around your waist.

You gasp at his sudden need for affection, he hasn’t done anything like this in maybe a week. You turn your head to see him, his eyes are shut.

“I’m sorry,” he says, apologizing to you. For what though? “For what honey?” you ask, turning your attention back to the dishes. “For not giving you the attention you need. Work has been a mess,” he says, softly kissing the back of your neck.

You gasp at the feeling and whimper. “It’s okay, I understand completely.'' He hums at your answer, beginning to kiss the back of your neck, leaving you with goosebumps trailing down your back.

“I just wish I could help you,” you say, pouting. “You can.'' You raise your eyebrow in confusion, turning around to look at him. “What do you mean?” you ask as he leans in, inches away from your lips.

“You could make me a baby.” “H-huh?” you stutter as Yoongi’s hands run up your body. “If we have one soon, our child will take over the company. That would help me out a lot,” he says, giving you a loving stare.

He then sighs before looking down at your belly. “We’ve always talked about this, but if you’re not ready I understand.” His head fits into your neck, leaving more soft kisses on your skin.

You whimper and rub his back with your hand, “It-it’s okay, if that’s what you want then…” you trail off as he pulls back to look at you. “I’m ready,” you say, staring into his eyes as he smiles before kissing you.

The kiss is soft like the kisses on your neck, you’ve missed him so much. You break the kiss before wiping your hands with the towel behind you and looking back at him.

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

Yoongi leads you into your shared bedroom, kissing you and then breaking the kiss. He then guides you onto the bed until your head meets the pillow.

He then comes over, towering over you before saying, “Let me undress you, take off that little dress you’re wearing, just around your shoulder.” He slides the sleeves of your dress down, moving down to plant a kiss on your right shoulder.

He then moves over to do the same to your left shoulder. “Now let me take it off,” he whispers in your left ear before lifting off of you. He then takes off his black suit jacket, throwing it away before unbuttoning his black undershirt.

You bite your lip, he always looks so good in this suit. He then gets the last button unbuttoned before taking his shirt off and throwing it in the same direction as his jacket.

“Now you can feel my body against your soft skin,” he says before kissing you. “So feminine,” he adds before kissing you again. “Take that dress down a little more, so I can swirl my tongue around the edge of your nipple, but I don’t touch it. I just tease, and tease, and tease until it's time. Oh... suck on your nipples, mhm?” he says, slipping the fabric of your dress down to your midrib, before leaning down to stick his tongue on the edge of your nipple.

You gasp at the feeling and grab a handful of his black hair. He moans out and proceeds to kiss and lick at your nipple as you whimper. His tongue then flicks at your bud as you let out a shaky moan.

“Can you feel my breath on your nipple, mhm?” he asks as you nod. “So fucking hard, what about this one?” he says, moving over to your right breast. “Do you want me to suck on them, mhm?” he asks, looking up at you.

“Yes please,” you whimper out as he kisses you. “Not just yet, I want you to feel my tongue run right between your breasts, all the way down to your throbbing clit underneath your dress,” he says as he does just that and runs his tongue down your body until it meets your clothed clit.

You whimper at the feeling as he moves your dress up to reveal your black lace panties, his favorite. He then groans before moving them to the side and his hand meets your thighs.

He then spreads your legs before his tongue meets your clit and you moan out. “Such a sexy feeling, my tongue against your clit,” he says before flicking his tongue as you moan.

You then grab a handful of his hair as he moans at you tugging. He then kisses and sucks on your clit as little whimpers leave your mouth. He’s not fast with his tongue movements, he’s nice and slow.

“You like when I tease your clit like that?” he asks as you nod, before he flicks his tongue against it and kisses it. “And when I slowly move down to your pussy lips with my lips," he says, moving away from your clit to move down to your lips.

“Parting those pussy lips,” he says as his hand comes in between your pussy lips, parting them so he can lick and kiss them. You moan out as his tongue plays with them, along with leaving some soft kisses.

“Oh fuck,” he chuckles before going down to kiss your pussy lips again. “Oh that pussy’s so good,” he says before kissing it again. “Oh yeah relax baby, relax and feel my tongue and lips all over it,” he says as you sigh before shifting your position to make yourself more relaxed.

He’s different tonight than he is other nights. He’s usually hard and rough because he needs to get his stress out. Maybe it’s because he wants a baby, he wants to be slow and make love to you.

You come back to your senses when Yoongi’s tongue glides along your clit, making you moan. “Working to your clit then back down,” he says as he moves down to your lips again. His hands glide up your thighs.

“Your soft thighs,” he says before slowly making out with your pussy again. “Slide my tongue in,” he says as his tongue meets the rim of your hole, earning a moan from you.

His tongue then slides in as you whimper, pulling his hair more. He proceeds to slowly tongue-fuck your pussy as you moan out. “You like being fucked by my tongue?” he asks as you nod.

It feels so good to finally have him after so long. “Slow, sensual, slippery fuck mhm,” he says before kissing at your hole while his tongue is still in you.

He then pulls his tongue out and flicks it against your hole as you moan. “Oh my god,” he says before giving your pussy one last kiss and coming up to kiss you.

You can taste your juices on his lips. “Every taste makes my cock harder and harder,” he says as you look down to see the bulge in his pants, eagerly waiting to be touched. 

He proceeds to take off his belt along with his pants so that his boxers are the only thing left. You look down at his bulge before looking back up at him.

“You know what to do,'' he says, motioning you to take them off. You move so you’re facing his crotch as you proceed to take off his boxers. His hard cock springs out and you gasp.

You then look up at him for his next command. “Will you take it in your hand for me?” he asks as you wrap your hand around his cock and he hisses.

“Look at it, look at my tongue dripping from your pussy, your sweetness. Oh baby you have no idea how good that is," he says as you whimper at his words.

“Feel how fat it is, how big it is. It wants you to slide it in your pussy, please honey. Please.” You let go of his cock so you can move back to allow him to tower over you.

You reach down to grab his cock again as he kisses you. “Slide it in, give yourself to me” He says as you slowly slide the head of his cock in. You both gasp at the feeling as Yoongi growls before then whimpering.

“Lock your legs around me” He moans out as your legs wrap around his hips. “Grab my ass” He says as you give it a smack as he moans out with a smirk plastered on his face.

“Bring me more, more baby, more. I want to be deeper in you” He says as you slide more of his cock into you. “Yeah like that'' He whimpers before kissing you.

“I love feeling how wet your pussy is” He whispers, moaning before slowly thrusting into you as you whimper. “Just in and out, sweet nipples rubbing against my chest” He says as his head moves down to kiss at your nipples as you whine.

“Yeah fuck me a little harder” he says as you move with him, making him increase his thrusts a bit. His mouth is agape as he moans out. He then starts to lose his pace as starts thrusting into you harder and faster as you whimper.

“So deep, pull me in deep, pull me into you. Let me look into your beautiful eyes'' He says growling a bit as you guys maintain eye contact. He then proceeds to kiss you, before then breaking it as he starts to pound into you just a little bit.

You two were both so close with the pleasure that was building inside both of you. “Let me slide it out” He says moaning before pulling out of you.

You whimper clenching around nothing, “Look at that. Look how wet that is. Slide it up and down your beautiful pussy lips. Can you feel it mhm? Can you feel that cock? Sliding up and down your lips'' You nod as his cock slides in-between your pussy lips. “Slide it back in, she’s gonna take it. Look at her move to it. Trembling, shaking, beautiful wet pussy” He says as his cock slowly slides back in.

He then moves back to you again, his face inches away from yours. “Back in'' He says as he starts to thrust into you again keeping the pace he had before.

He then kisses you passionately, “Fuck I love fucking your pussy like this, oh... in and out. So deep inside as your legs locked around me pulling me in. Pulling me deep inside where I fucking belong, cum all over my cock deep inside you please. I’m begging you” He whimpers out as his words bring you closer to the edge.

“Pinch your nipples while you fucking cum” He says as his hand meets your breast, twisting your nipples. You moan out from the stimulation, “You want me to cum?” He asks.

You nod vigorously, “Yes! Please Yoongi cum in me” You throw your head back, pleasure building up inside you. He then smirks, “Want me to get you fucking pregnant?” “Yes please!” “Oh fuck you’re going to be a great mommy baby mhm, fuck come for me” he didn’t have to say it twice as your orgasm washes over you as your a moaning mess underneath him.

“Mhm fuck good girl. Gonna make me fucking cum and get you pregnant fuck” He says as his thrusts were getting sloppier which meant he was close.

His thumb then meets your throbbing clit sending your into overstimulation, “Tell me baby, Tell me to fucking cum in you” With your eyes half closed you whine out, “Please Yoongi. Want you to cum in me and get me pregnant” “Fuck baby” That did it for him as his cum shoots deep inside of you.

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

You both try and catch your breaths, as Yoongi comes down to kiss you. “Thank you baby” He says before pulling out. “Mhm, welcome” you say lazily as he chuckles before giving you a forehead kiss.

A few weeks later you were confident enough to take a pregnancy test. So waiting around in the kitchen, pacing back and forth waiting for the timer on the microwave to go off.

You then look over to your husband who is watching tv as you sigh. Just then the timer goes off as you rush over to turn it off. You then grab the pregnancy test as your eyes widen, two lines.

Your eyes fill with tears as you try not to cry. Wiping your tears you go over to where Yoongi was sitting, he then turns to you. You weakly smile at him before handing him the pregnancy test.

His eyes then widened. “We’re having a baby?” He asks as you nod, tears falling down your checks. He smiles before pulling you closer to give you a kiss. He then breaks it and holds your tummy, “I can’t wait for your little one” You chuckle at his words before he kisses you again.

[rollerskate2theface]

5+1 five times someone noticed Steve Harrington liking men and the one time everyone noticed he loved one

1 Steve

Steve never really put much thought into who he was attracted to. Girls were easy he didn’t even have to try for them to be all over him, really it’s just a matter of convenience.

Nancy was like that at first, all flustered and flirty. But he could tell it was all some sort of act even if she didn’t know it. He was proven correct after Nancy’s whole “bullshit” stunt on Halloween. Steve really couldn’t even blame her, he knew he was bullshit.

Going after girls only girls because it was convenient? That sure seems like bullshit to him. So, he began to actually acknowledge things. Like how no other guys on the swim team seemed to admire each other’s physiques or how Tommy never seemed to understand Carol’s constant ramblings about how hot Mel Gibson is.

Steve always knew he just began to actually act on it, ya know, occasionally.

2 Erica

The first to notice was surprisingly Erica Sinclair. Well, maybe not so surprisingly considering she seemed to make it her goal for the summer to have his complete and undivided attention. Seeing as he was the only thing between her and 4x her weight in ice cream.

“Hey Nerd what could possibly be more interesting to you, a costumer service employee, than me, a costumer?”

Without looking at her Steve spoke, “You’ve come in everyday for the past 3 weeks and have only bought 1 single scoop in total. He however,” Steve pointedly looked at a guy in his early 20’s licking a drop of melted ice cream up his hand and back to his cone, “seems to be very content with his purchase.”

Erica huffed “barf me out, if I wanted to see some narbo make goo goo eyes I would’ve just stayed home with Lukie and Max.” With that Erica made her way out of the shop in hopes of getting more free samples from Hot Sam’s pretzels.

2.5 Robin (sort of)

Robin didn’t really get Steve Harrington. First he showed up to work on Robin’s first day with that hideous sailor’s costume on before introducing himself to her as if they weren’t in the same class an entire year and romantic rivals. He acted kind enough despite his near constant complaining.

There was also those damn kids that Robin couldn’t comprehend belonged to Steve. They had the guy wrapped around their little fingers, it was honestly kinda pathetic -maybe she should make another board. He was always giving them his company provided scoops they were allowed during breaks.

“Need to stay in shape; no high school athletics anymore. Plus those kids are skinny as twigs,” he’d brush her off.

At first Robin thought it was just the kids he was giving his free ice cream to but then she’d notice how he missed the payment of a couple of guys around their age that had come in.

“Hey Dingus! You forgot to charge them, I’ve seen you do that twice now!” Robin was annoyed if Steve kept doing that they’d both get written up.

“Don’t worry, that was my ice cream mark out,” Steve said offhandedly.

That made Robin stop, those didn’t look like any of the guys in King Steve’s posse of friends. “Why’d you give them your mark out? Do you know them?” Robin’s curiosity beat out her annoyance at the older teen in front of her.

“Nope! Let’s just say I’m hoping for a good tip,” Steve tossed out as he winked and walked into the back room.

This idiot most people tipped at least a dollar even when they had to pay… whatever it’s his mark out.

3.5 Dustin

Say what you may about Dustin Henderson but he was a scientist at heart. So, when he began to notice things about one of his favorite people he decided he needed to test his theory.

“So, uh, Steve,” Dustin threw out while he and Steve were listening to music in the older man’s family room. Steve was jogging on his fathers treadmill as Dustin wrote his letter to send to Suzie in the mail.

Steve gave an uninterested ‘mmhm’ in response.

“Will’s been complaining about how all the party has girlfriends but him-”

“You go easy on him middle school’s hard enough without a bunch of dickwad friends and relationship drama-”

“High school, Steve, we start high school in the fall. No more middle school baby shit for us!”

“Yeah yeah whatever just lay off Will. Not everyone is interested in romance so young,” Steve finally finished once their bickering stoped.

Dustin scoffed, “No that’s just Mike, he’s the only one being weird about it. But anyway that’s exactly what I was about to ask! When did you start showing romantic interest?” Dustin preened himself on his subtlety.

Steve looked surprised at that, “Oh! Well I guess I really started liking people romantically in 6th grade. I mean I had my first girlfriend in 7th grade,” he snorted, “if you could even call it that, we just held hands at recess and gave messages through friends…”

Dustin tuned the other out. ‘People’ damn that was a bust alright new approach.

“Yeah yeah uh huh sooo, Steve? Which Star Wars character do you think is the hottest?” Dustin asked thinking back to the film he’d watched the night prior.

The treadmill stopped as Steve sighed and turned to face Dustin, “dude I keep telling you I’m not going to watch your geeky movie.”

“How dare you! Star Wars is a cinematic masterpiece! I-” stay on track Dustin don’t jeopardize the experiment, “whatever who do you think is the hottest actor from one of your lame rom-coms then?” Okay, so much for subtlety.

Steve raised an eyebrow at that -oh no he noticed- he walked over and plopped down on the floor next to Dustin, “Alright, what’s going on why are you acting weird?”

“What? I’m not acting weird? I just,” another unconvinced look, “Ugh fine. I’ve just started to notice how you aren’t only flirty with… with just girls anymore… Which is totally fine! Cool! Awesome even! I just, I wanted to find out if I was… right? I don’t know, now I sound like an asshole.”

Dustin isn’t sure if it’s a good sign or a bad sign when Steve began to laugh. His laughter died down after a couple seconds, “you’re a strange kid, you know that? But to prove- confirm your hypothesis or whatever. Yes I like men, and women, both I like both,” Steve stammered. “You’re actually the first one I’ve said that to.”

Dustin grinned twisting to hug Steve from where he was sat beside him. A thought just occurred to the almost high schooler, “ This means double the potential set ups.” This sentiment was met with a groan and a plead of not needing that.

4.5 Mike

Mike Wheeler has been told he’s at that ‘difficult’ age in puberty -gross- where he’s mad about everything. Well if you ask him it’s pretty freaking easy to be mad at everything including how his mom sold his bike at a yard sale because, “You’re too big for it now Michael you can barely ride it. This money is going towards a new one you’ll just have to save up.”

Hence why he’s waiting for his ride who’s currently working in a too cold, too bright shop, with an annoying smile on his face talking to some long haired weirdo with like 8 different chains hanging off his pants and a black bandana sticking out of his back right pocket. A weirdo that’s been here for over an hour making Steve stay late. “Steve! We were supposed to be out of here 12 minutes ago! Hurry up!” Mike yelled tapping his watch as though Steve could see it from across the store.

“Hold your shit Wheeler we’ll be out in a minute,” Steve yelled back earning a bark of laughter from the weirdo. Mike heard Steve start to finish up speaking with the- costumer? Actually, Mike doesn’t think he ever saw that guy even order anything.

Feeling curious Mike meandered towards them trying to catch the end of their conversation.

“-my house or yours tonight?”

“Wayne has tonight off so he’s gonna be hogging up the trailer soooo”

“Yeah yeah my place just remember no blasting music in my neighborhood the Inslee’s are already this close to calling the cops”

“Oh yeah, and heaven knows what we’ll be up to when they arrive-”

“Shut up! Alright I gotta go see you in a couple hours Ed!”

With that Steve and Mike exited the Scoops Ahoy walking through the food court and out the mall towards Steve’s Beamer where it sat in the mall parking lot. The two settled in, Steve making sure Mike had his seatbelt on before pulling out. From the passengers seat Mike eyed Steve trying to decipher what he had heard the two older men in the mall talking about.

Giving in Mike gave an annoyed huff admitting he was actually interested in something to do with Steve Harrington. “Who was that guy and how often do you have sleepovers?” he asked.

This was met with shifty eyes and a soft laugh from the older teen, “who? Eddie? The guy from the mall? He’s no one, just a friend,” there was a strange tinge of guilt in his voice.

“You shouldn’t do that.” Mike said firmly staring out at the road in front of them.

This made Steve confused turning to look at Mike before redirecting them back to the road, “do what?”

This made Mike even more pissed. “Lead people on. You and I both know you like girls, you’ve dated girls, you dated Nancy! Did you not care about her? Did you not love her? I know you broke up or whatever, but she definitely loved you once, I can’t believe you faked the whole thing!” Mike had tears welling in his eyes.

The car came to a slow as Steve pulled over to the side of the road, “woaah hey man I did- I did love your sister. Sometimes I think a little more than she loved me. I was never lying about what I felt for her.” Mike sniffled. “And yes, I do like girls always have, still do. But, I think you may have noticed,” Steve attempted to joke, “I’m also of the uh, male persuasion? Ugh that sounds gross. Men I like men too.”

Steve expected some backlash after the start of this conversation and was surprised when he was met with Mike’s odd look of clarity. “You- you can like both?” The younger boy asked. Steve hadn’t heard him sound so small since he saw him take care of an unconscious Will during their last run in with monsters.

“Yeah, you can like both.”

5 Robin (yes again)

Okay so Steve Harrington wasn’t that bad. In fact he was kind of cool. And not like popular, eggs cars and makes out with chicks under the bleachers cool. But genuinely a cool dude that basically saved her life, well, with the help of a couple children.

Maybe it was the drugs, maybe it was the probable head trauma, maybe it was even the thrill of actually escaping a secret Russian base but Robin felt like she could tell this guy anything. Which probably wasn’t great considering her… situation.

The two teenagers were sitting in the bathroom heads hanging over toilet bowl rims. They were joking around but the girl knew she didn’t want to be asked any heavy or revealing questions not when she didn’t have complete control of her mind so instead she asked Steve.

“Have you… ever been in love” she’d asked after some thought. This should be easy enough for him, he’s known for his prowess with the ladies.

She received a small cackle from the stall next to her. “Yeah a couple of times. Nancy Wheeler my first love I went insane for that girl, first semester senior year,” Steve made a gun motion shooting into his heart, “honestly I’m glad I had what I had with Nancy and also glad that it ended? If it hadn’t I would’ve never been with who I’m with today, the person I think I want to spend the rest of my life with,” Robin could tell there was a smile of his face when he’d said that.

Wow Robin really hadn’t expected that confession, she was honestly a bit worried he might admit to liking her. Who would’ve thought Steve Harrington tied down. “How’d you know?” Robin asked she’d never been able to think that strongly about anyone not even Tammy who she’s had a year long major crush on.

Steve sighed, “I don’t know… He just makes me feel happy and excited whenever I’m near him.”

Robin’s breath hitched when she noticed the pronouns he’d used, okay she definitely wasn’t supposed to be told this, he wasn’t in the right state of mind, neither was she. And yet, she couldn’t stop him; it felt so good to hear about someone like her actually being happy and finding love even if it was surprisingly Steve Harrington.

“He’s a lot different than everyone else I’ve dated, but he’s also different from everybody else in general so I guess that makes sense. He’s dramatic and weird, and impossible to look away from. I still can’t even believe he likes me back.”

Hearing Steve talk about his boyfriend gave Robin the confidence to tell him about Tammy much to his great judgment which they joked about until Dustin and Erica barged into their little sanctuary of a bathroom.

+1 Everyone

If you ask anyone, that day after Vecna was defeated the whole party piled into their meeting place at the hospital. They wouldn’t tell you the first thing they noticed was a limping Dustin crying silently as though he could no longer make sound from screaming so loudly. It wasn’t Robin walking through the door with a broken guitar in her arms. It wasn’t even the boy bleeding out, unconscious, clothes ripped to shreds.

No, they’d tell you they’d noticed Steve Harrington sobbing as he yelled for ‘someone anyone please help him please my Eddie please help him somebody Eddie please Eddie’. He held Eddie Munson in his arms as he ran through the hospital begging them to save his Eddie.

Eddie was taken into surgery immediately and nobody could think of what to say to Steve. He was hunched over in a small waiting chair right outside Eddie’s operating room.

It was Joyce Byers freshly off a death helicopter from Russia that kneeled down in front of the boy. She held his hands in hers as she said, “he’ll be okay. He knows your out here waiting for him. He won’t leave you.”

With that Steve slumped forward onto her as he began to sob.

Eddie came out of his first surgery a couple hours later but the doctors informed he was likely going to be in unconscious for at least a week. Steve stayed with Eddie and his uncle in the hospital everyday refusing to leave. The kids filtered in and out checking on Eddie and Max a few rooms down. Without fail Steve had his chair pulled up right next to Eddie’s bed just watching him.

Dustin talked to Eddie, a lot, so did Robin. Eddie probably liked that, both Wayne and Steve didn’t talk much. Preferred to sit in silence watching for any sign that the comatose boy was improving.

The day Eddie did wake up most of the party was there including Nancy, Jonathan, some guy from California, the youngest Sinclair -Lucas didn’t want to leave Max alone- a couple Russians, his uncle and his boyfriend. When Eddie slowly opened his eyes he looked towards Steve sitting directly to his left.

“Hey Stevie, I tried to be a hero. Sorry,” his vocals were strangled from lack of use.

“You should be sorry! You are such an idiot! God I love you, never do that again.” Steve then pulled Eddie into a searing kiss in front of everyone. Not that anyone was surprised.