#But when I’m in pain to the point I can’t move for hours I am going to be a bitch.

[theinkbunny]

my family after finding out that no, my reaction to pain isn’t to cry or whine, but to become hyperaggressive to anybody nearby

[roseyodditea]

Sit Still! - Boothill x gn! Reader

Summary -> 1.1k words. You're a mechanic who's been forcibly given the impossible task of repairing Boothill, the most stubborn customer you've ever done (even if this wasn't the first time)

Warnings -> None

A/N -> Is it obvious that I like working on electronics? No? Not proofread because I work a 7-5 office job and I am tired <3

********

“Hey! HEY! you keep that fudgin’ thing away from me!” Boothill jumps over the workbench in the middle of your workshop, watching your movements carefully. He was quite agile for a man that was on death’s door when he stumbled in here a mere half hour ago. 

You put the hot soldering pen down on the table against the wall. “Boothill. Let me do what I need to do.” Boothill crouches down like a wild animal, practically growling, his jaw clenched tightly. “What are you planning on doin’ with that thing?” “How the hell have you gone this long without using a soldering iron? How do you keep your body functional?” You lunge and reach for the back of his jacket, grabbing him by the collar as he tries to skitter away, but his damaged systems cause him to be slower and weaker than normal. “Whatever that thing is, my sensors say it’s hot and it smells forkin’ awful!” He tries even harder to wiggle out of your grasp, but he doesn't want to hurt you. You were the only mechanic in this star system that still put up with his shit. “Normally they turn me off for repairs. I ain’t never been awake for one.”

“Yeah well. I need you conscious for this part.” You shove him towards the workbench and he obeys, sitting up on it. “Lay down, open up your chest panel.” You command and push him down. 

“What are you plannin’?” He bites back the distrust and decides to lie down on the bench. He opens up his chest panel and watches you closely, the targets in his pupils lock on like he was about to rip out your jugular with those sharp teeth of his. “I will explain everything I do before I do it. Will that make things better?” You muster a soft tone, trying not to show that you are annoyed at his behavior already. Sure you had the stubborn electronics and machines that made you lose sleep, but this is the first time the repair work was done on someone who could give you sass. You don’t have the bedside manners for this…

Boothill still watches wearily, but at this point, he has no choice, his systems are borderline critical. He had already ignored the warnings for this long. “Alright… yeah… that’ll make it better.” You pick back up the soldering iron and show it to him. “This is a soldering pen. I’m going to use it to melt this stuff,” you pick up the roll of the thin metal that was on the table next to it, “onto the contacts between your wires and your circuit boards. It’ll help make sure everything is secure and won’t wiggle out of place. I need you awake because I need you to tell me if I set off any alarms and sensors in your body. Just as a failsafe to make sure I don’t accidentally kill you”

“Kill me!?”

“It’s a joke. Now shut up and don’t move”

He nods, still weary as you reach both your hands into his chest compartment, where he can’t see. He tries to hold down the panic, the fear, the worry. This was the most vulnerable he has ever been. This is why he likes being powered down for repairs. This was hell. The smell of molten tin permeates the air, only stressing him out further. 

“Calm down.” You say without looking up. “You’re fidgeting and I’m trying not to burn either of us.” He doesn’t listen. Of course, he doesn’t listen. His legs still fidget, his hands still move around, gripping the table. “Kinda hard when you’re wrist deep in my body. It tickles.”

“Boothill. Hold still.” You growl out, frustration building in your chest. This was delicate work on a not-so-delicate man. “Next time you squirm, I swear to whatever Aeon you worship-” He twitched again and your hand slipped, the soldering pen touching his bare circuit board, causing him to yelp out in pain. “Goddammit Boothill!!”

He shrinks away, recoiling from pain and your frustration. “Ah, shirt! It feels weird and I-” His words are cut off as you move to straddle his thighs, pinning his fidgeting legs underneath you. You point the hot soldering iron at his face. “Move again, and I will turn you off and just pray I don’t mix up wires.”

“Yes, boss.” He says, stunned as his hands instinctively move to rest on your thighs. “Ya know, last time I had someone on me like this I-” “Don’t” You reply, your hands working on sorting out the mess of wires he had let his innards become. You solder another wire down and look up into his eyes. “Is that one in the wrong spot?” “No, that feels right. I forgot I had that sensor.” He chuckles, relaxing against the workbench. “This ain’t that bad.” His hands gently trace circles against the material of your pants in an attempt to soothe his own anxiety. He could feel every movement your fingers made in his chest compartment. 

“Yeah, and it only took me thirty fucking minutes to get you to sit still.” You finish soldering all the wires down, satisfied with your work. “Alright. All done.” You toss the hot iron onto the table across the workshop. “See? Not that bad. You’re just whiny.” You move to get up, only to have Boothill tug you back down onto his lap, sitting up so you both are face to face. 

“Thank you.” 

“Wow. I didn’t know you were capable of genuine gratitude.” You tease, grabbing his hat and putting it back on his head. 

He adjusts his hat into the proper place. “I know I owe you credits, but what can I do to thank you, sugar? This ain’t the first time I’ve stumbled into your workshop late at night, mostly dead.”

“Just come back alive again.” You knock his hat out of place on purpose, leaning forward to kiss his forehead. “That’s good enough for me.” You hop off of the workbench. “Now get the hell out and let me go to sleep. It’s too late at night to be lookin’ at your face.” “Yes, boss.” 

“See ya next time.” “There won’t be a next time.” He tries to keep up his tough appearance as you roll your eyes and move to sort and put away your tools. He smiles to himself and purposefully takes his whip off his belt, tossing it on the table while your back is turned and he slips out. 

Once you knew he had fully slipped away, you rolled your eyes, grabbing the whip and hanging it up on the hook you installed on the wall just for this purpose. 

He always left a reason to come back, and you always pretended to be oblivious to it. 

**********

Super special super optional A/N -> someone sent me an anonymous message a couple days ago saying they like my writing and I CRIED. Turns out when you break out of your comfort zone and share a hobby you get support??? Odd.

[izurou]

“kats, you’re worse than i thought.”

this is the third weekend in a row that katsuki has gotten stuck with an overnight patrol—a gruelling twelve hours that starts friday evening at seven, and ends the following morning, at seven.

but, it’s just past five am—the sun is desperately trying to rise somewhere off in the distance, and you’re sitting beside your boyfriend, who is face down in bed—a little out of it, and in a lot of pain.

“how bad?” he mumbles, referring to his back—the spot that clearly took the brunt of whatever, or whoever it was that cut his night short.

you don’t ask for details. it doesn’t matter how he got here, just that he is here—that he would come back home after presumably being relieved of his duties by another hero from the agency, choosing to skip proper medical care altogether.

he’s earned himself a scolding for that little stunt, but it’ll have to wait. for now, your job is simple—do what you can to take his mind off of the ache pulsing up his spine.

“like, borderline slut, i would say.”

do whatever you can, to take his mind off of it.

“huh?” he cranes his neck to look at you, wincing as he moves, and through the dull orange hue of the candle sitting on your bedside table, you see his brows furrow, and his nose scrunch up.

he hit his head too hard, he must’ve.

“i’m serious, baby. you have one, two, three,” you start gently placing your finger over various spots on his back—stifling a laugh when you catch him staring at you, dumbfounded. “nine, ten, eleven.”

he tries to peer over his shoulder, but is quickly humbled by the persistent throb radiating from just above the waistband of his boxers.

“fuck,” he mutters, shoving his face back into his pillow with a groan. carefully, you run your fingers through his hair, and he turns his head to the side—peering up at you through tired eyes. “eleven?”

“eleven! and that’s just on your back,” you smile, and he knows you a little too well—he recognizes the glint of mischief behind your eyes too easily.

“the hell are you talking about?” he asks.

“look, you have one,” you pause and place your finger on his forearm, right next to a pigmented little circle—a beauty mark. “here, too.”

his gaze shifts back and forth between you and where you’re pointing, but he just can’t seem to connect his own dots.

“they’re places where your lover used to kiss you most often,” you explain as you lay down beside him. “you know, in all your past lives.”

oh, and because he has eleven on his back, he’s teetering on the edge of promiscuity? that has to be one of the single most ridiculous things he’s ever heard—and he spent three years at ua with kirishima and kaminari. but, it’s coming from you—so he finds it endearing all the same.

what a sweet way of seeing things, how very you.

“you made that up,” he mumbles, eyes fluttering shut momentarily as sleep threatens to swallow him whole.

“did not,” you insist, “i mean, look at izuku.”

katsuki simply snorts in response before shuffling around—bearing the intense pain as he rolls onto his back and motions for you to snuggle into him, because it’d hurt more to not have you close.

at least, that’s what he’d say if he was a romantic—someone who’s beauty mark numbers are in the single digits.

“how many lovers do you think he’s had?” you hum, running a hand across katsuki’s chest in a soothing motion.

“none.”

“oh? two hundred you say?”

he sighs this time, muttering a shaddup under his breath as he allows his eyes to close once more. he’d like to leave it at that and drift off into dream world, but you follow up with a sentence that makes his heart flutter.

“don’t worry kats, none of them were me,” you laugh, like music to his ears—his favourite song. he can’t help the boyish grin that creeps onto his lips, and he thanks his lucky stars that you aren’t looking.

though your words make him wonder, if you were ever his in a past life—maybe you’ve always been his. yeah, he likes the sound of that, even if it is the single most ridiculous thought he’s ever had—it’s you, so he’ll think of it forever.

“good,” he says—feeling your weight shift a little, and when he opens his eyes, you’re there.

you’re close, inches away from his face, and you get even closer—pressing a sweet kiss to his lips, one that seemingly numbs him from the inside out, taking away his pain for that brief moment.

and as you both settle back down—snug in each other’s arms, he thinks he can finally fall victim to his drowsiness.

but you have one last burning question.

“baby, do i have permission to count izuku’s?”

“not even in your next fuckin’ life.”

[gale-force-storm]

Devoured

Rating: E

Pairing: Gale x female!Reader

Additional Tags: Overstimulation, cunnilingus, praise kink, cock warming, aftercare, second person POV

Word Count: 1.8k

Read it on AO3

You thought it would be a great anniversary gift, letting Gale tie you up and do whatever he pleased with you. What you didn't expect (foolishly, in hindsight) was for "whatever he pleased" to mean spending literal hours using that practiced tongue of his to take you apart.

Inspired by this post from the always delightful @naughtybg3confessions

“You're sure you're alright with this?”

“Yes, Gale,” you insist with a small laugh. “I am the one who suggested this, remember?”

“I know, I know. I just want to make sure.” He finishes tying the soft length of fabric around your wrists, securing them to the headboard above you. “How is that? Comfortable? Not too tight?”

You pull at the restraints, testing them. “Feels good,” you confirm. “Secure, but not too tight.”

“Good.” He smiles and leans down, kissing you gently.

“Well, your anniversary present is all tied up in a bow for you,” you say with a devious grin when he pulls away. “I’m all yours, sweetheart. Do your worst.”

“Be careful what you wish for, my love. I just might grant it,” he teases. He kisses you again, but his mouth quickly strays away from yours, moving over your jaw, down your neck, to your chest. He teases at your nipples, mouth on one, fingers on the other, lingering briefly before continuing his path down.

“Gale,” you sigh, half pleased and half exasperated, “this is supposed to be about your pleasure.”

“Trust me my love,” he replies, smirking against your skin, “it will be.”

You huff out another breath, letting your head drop back. You’ll indulge him for now. Besides, you think at the first warm press of his mouth to your center, you would never truly complain about getting to have his mouth on you.

He pauses briefly to grab a spare pillow and position it under your hips, raising them higher for easier access. He pulls your legs up, resting your thighs over his shoulders, and kisses one of them before turning his attention back to your cunt, where your arousal is already obvious.

“Always so wet for me,” he sighs appreciatively. “So eager.”

“Always for you, my love.”

He beams up at you, all love and wonder and pride. “Truly, I could ask for no greater gift than you.”

He leans in, licking from your entrance up to your clit, humming his pleasure. He licks a few more times like this, broad strokes of his tongue, savoring you, and you settle back into the warm, familiar pleasure. You moan in encouragement as he slips his tongue into you, his nose pressing against your clit. Yes, you can certainly let him do this for a while. Since he’s insisting.

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

You fear you’ve miscalculated. You really should have known better than to underestimate Gale. There are tears running down your face. Your throat is raw from screaming and moaning. You would try to squirm away from the inescapable, overwhelming pleasure of his tongue, his lips, his fingers, but you’re too tired at this point from doing so for the last... how long has it been? Two hours? Three? More? You’ve lost track, just like you’ve lost track of how many times you’ve come against his relentless mouth. He gives another calculated thrust of his fingers, another hard suck to your clit, and you cry out, overstimulation bringing the pleasure near the edge of pain.

“Please, Gale, please, I can’t,” you pant. He looks up, but doesn’t pull his mouth more than an inch away from you.

“Do you want me to stop?”

Gods, but his warm breath against your soaked flesh makes you shiver. You can only bring yourself to whine.

“I need your words, love. Do you want me to stop?” he asks firmly.

You work to catch your breath and try to remember how to form words.

“No,” you finally manage to whimper. “Don’t stop.” You see the corners of Gale’s eyes crinkle with his smile.

“Good girl,” he murmurs before diving back in. You sob, overwhelmed, as he continues his sweet torture, lapping at your cunt like a man starved as though he hasn’t been devouring you for hours. Your hips twitch weakly as you feel the pressure impossibly begin to mount once more, building under his skilled attention. You flutter around him and he moans, the vibrations pulling another sob from your throat.

“That’s it, lovely,” he murmurs as he works you. “One more. You can give me one more can’t you?”

You shake your head, but the rest of your body tells a different story, your legs twitching beyond your control where they rest over his shoulders, hips bucking without rhythm.

“I think you can,” he continues. “I think you can have another for me. Let me taste the sweetness of your pleasure once more.”

You moan, high and strained, as your body moves ever closer to that precipice. You feel delirious, on the edge of madness as much as the edge of pleasure. Gale is ruthlessly efficient as he pushes you on, sucking and licking your clit eagerly as his fingers rub precisely at the spot inside you that makes your head spin. The choked sound you make as you finish once again is somewhere between a whimper and a sob. Gale groans deeply as you clench weakly around his fingers, muscles too tired for more than a weak, fluttering orgasm. He laps at you softly, working you through it with loving tenderness. Finally, he pulls away. You whine helplessly at the feeling of his fingers sliding out of you. He sucks them clean, then presses a few kisses to your shaking thighs before moving up your body to hover over you. His face is soaked from nose to chin, lips and beard glistening with your slick. He kisses you hotly, and the usual taste of him is completely drowned out by the taste of your own arousal. He runs a warm hand up your arm and rubs gently at your wrists.

“How are your hands?” he asks gently. “Still alright? Can you move them for me?”

It takes a long moment for your addled brain to process his question, but with some effort you manage to wiggle your fingers.

“F-fine,” you stutter weakly. “They’re fine.”

He pulls the fabric up slightly, inspecting the skin. You don’t know what he sees, but he seems to be satisfied with it because he nods once, then turns his attention back to your face. He kisses your cheeks with a gentleness that nearly makes you cry again, and wipes the remaining wetness from them with his thumbs.

“You’re so lovely,” he murmurs. “So beautiful. You’re doing so well. So good for me. My good girl. My sweet, wonderful girl. Taking everything I give you so perfectly. Letting me drink my fill of you. Making such pretty sounds for me while I taste you to my heart’s content. Falling apart so beautifully for me, over and over. Do you think you can take a bit more for me, my good girl? You can say no,” he says, seeing the hesitation in your eyes. “I would love to be inside you, but we can stop if it’s too much.”

You swallow hard, considering for a few seconds. Slowly, you nod.

“I can take it,” you rasp. “I can take you.”

The heat in his eyes causes your already shaky breath to catch.

“So good for me,” he whispers. “I don’t know what I could ever do to deserve you. I love you so much.”

He shifts, his hardened cock — gods you imagine it must be aching at this point — sliding through your soaking folds and catching at your entrance. You try to breathe steadily as he pushes forward, sliding into you without resistance. He moans as he buries himself in you to the hilt, nosing into the crook of your neck and breathing you in.

“You feel divine,” he praises against your skin. “Better than divine. You are perfection itself. I could stay like this for hours.”

He sighs contentedly, and doesn’t move. Your mind, sluggish as it is now, kicks up a gear. It has to be a turn of phrase. He can’t actually mean...

You feel him shift slightly. He props himself up with one arm, while the other slides between you. He presses his thumb against your lips and you let it in on instinct, sucking lightly on the tip of it. He grins.

“Such a good girl.”

He pulls his thumb out and brings the hand down, down, down your body. It slides briefly against your entrance where he’s stretching you open, and he groans. Then it slides up and starts rubbing softly, maddeningly over your clit.

“Gale?” You can’t manage more than a whisper.

“Shhh... Just a few more, my love,” he soothes. “I want to feel you come around me at least thrice before I’m done with you.”

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

You open your eyes, blinking a few times as you try to get your bearings. Gods, you must have actually blacked out for a moment. Gale is still above you, panting heavily, his face pressed against your shoulder. You whimper as you feel him twitch inside you, the feeling well and truly overwhelming at this point. He groans and pulls out of you as gently as he can. He presses a kiss to the mark he’d apparently sucked into your shoulder and turns to look at you, one hand coming up to brush a sweaty lock of hair from your forehead.

“Alright my love?”

You nod weakly.

“Are you sure?”

You nod again. “Y-yes. Good.”

“Good,” he breathes. “You are spectacular. Wonderful beyond words.”

He moves to untie your wrists. Once he does he rubs them gently, then down your arms, massaging the sore muscles.

“Do you need some water?”

You nod, more emphatically this time. He helps you sit up and takes a glass from the nightstand. He holds it to your lips, helping you to drink. Once you’ve had your fill, he reaches over for a soft cloth that was next to the glass. He moves to clean you, but you flinch when the cloth touches your thigh.

“Too much,” you manage.

“Ah. Of course. Apologies, my love” He puts the cloth away, instead muttering a quick prestidigitation, cleaning both you and the sheets with a wave of his hand. He looks as though he means to say something else, but you yawn, and he simply smiles fondly.

“Need some rest?”

“Gods, yes.”

He chuckles and helps you lay down, pulling you into a warm embrace. He rubs your back soothingly and nuzzles into your hair.

“Such a good girl,” he murmurs. “My good, sweet girl. I love you so dearly.”

“Love you too,” you mumble, already halfway back to unconsciousness. You feel him smile against you and place a kiss to the top of your head.

“And I’m so grateful that you do. Now, get some sleep, my love.”

You sigh in agreement, and it takes no time at all for his steady breathing and comforting warmth to lull you into what just might be the deepest sleep you’ve ever had.

[sweetfushi]

hello!!! would you be interested in writing something about nanami comforting his lover who’s on her period? i am currently on mine and it’s kicking my ass 😞💗

COMFORTING YOU ON YOUR PERIOD.

fluff | kento nanami x reader, menstrual pain, established relationship, mentions of death and suicide (this doesn’t get dark don’t worry), mentions of pregnancy and birth control | word count. 0.6k ◦ notes. i know this is a little late but i hope you're feeling better now! my period almost always has me howling

If it were any other day, you’d be out of bed and dragging yourself around the kitchen to make a concoction you would call breakfast for the day. Today was not any other day – it was day one of your consequence for not being pregnant. When you thought of it that way, you considered telling your husband that you weren’t completely opposed to getting pregnant right now. But there wasn’t much thinking happening with the way you were tossing, turning and whining in bed, clutching a hot water bottle to your stomach.

“Uuhhhh,” you groan, face contorting in discomfort as Nanami moves your hair out your face and from your sweaty neck. He’s made sure to open a window just enough to let fresh air in, but not enough to lead gusts of wind to heighten your cramps.

“I know, my love, I know,” he coos.

“Really makes me wanna take birth control,” you grunt, fisting the blanket pulled up to your chest as your brow furrows. “Or get pregnant.”

“Those are two very conflicting ideas,” he laughs softly, letting you hit him lightly in your moment of annoyance. “You haven’t had breakfast yet. You want me to cook or do you wanna order in?”

When you don’t respond, he pulls his phone out and opens up a delivery app, before handing it to you and letting you scroll through the options available. He knows if he were to head downstairs and start making something, you’d call him back in less than five minutes - not that he’d mind, he just wouldn’t be productive.

Nanami checks the digital receipt once you’re done to ensure you haven’t ordered caffeine, something he’s aware worsens cramps after scrolling through multiple blogs. When he does spot a caffeinated drink in the list of things you’ve ordered, he gives you a pointed look, to which you stare at him blankly. He simply shows you the drink you’ve ordered for you to take the hint.

“Oh that,” you start with a matter-of-fact tone, “you seriously expect me to have breakfast without something to wash it all down?”

“I’m sure there were other, much healthier options.”

“The healthier options look gross. My period and healthiness do not correlate.” Nanami has to contain a snort at the look of sheer disgust on your face.

Only an hour later are you at ease as Nanami sits beside you on the bed with his laptop and glasses perched on the bridge of his nose. Sometimes you’ll disrupt his work to ramble about something or simply complain about random sparks of pain, all of which Nanami listens and responds to accordingly.

“Did you know that swans only have one partner in their life? They kill themselves when their partner dies,” you frown, sniffling from either incoming tears or cold.

“That’s not too far off what some people feel nowadays,” he sighs, rubbing his hand up and down your thigh. “I would definitely fall apart at your death, maybe even become a hermit.”

You feel your chest tighten at the thought. “I can’t really imagine you doing that,” you admit as you press the hot water bottle closer to your stomach.

Nanami huffs, amused. The hand that’s on your thigh reaches up to caress your cheek as you stare at him curiously.

“That’s because you’re not dying unless it’s with me and in my arms. Sometimes I think one of these periods will be the ones to take you,” he laughs softly, apologising as you hit him repeatedly.

“Kento! They aren’t a joke, they're so bad.”

He kisses the top of your head and pulls you into his embrace. “Just let me know when you want them gone for nine months.”

sweetfushi © do not modify, repost, translate, copy or use my post. all that is included in this post, aside from the photos, fictional characters and universes, belong to sweetfushi (zee).

[padfootagain]

Only an Almost (XVII)

Chapter 17: Looking for Help

Hi! Here comes a new chapter!

Chapter 18 will be the beginning of things really getting better!

I hope you’ll like this chapter! Please, tell me what you think!

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

Pairing: Hozier x fem!reader, friends with benefits AU

Warning: No explicit smut or nsfw content, but there are sexual themes and heavy make-out sessions (it’s a friends with benefits AU, I can’t really escape it), so 18+ only!

Summary: Andrew has been in love with you for years, and yet he has never confessed his feelings. But a night out celebrating the engagement of his best friend changes everything. However, you don't seem ready to be with him just yet. You make him an offer that he can't refuse... but will certainly regret.

Word Count : 1855

Masterlist for the series – Hozier’s Masterlist – Main Masterlist

“Well…. That… is a lot.”

“You can phrase it like that, yeah…”

“So… you’ve finally told her you loved her. At least you don’t have that to weight on your chest anymore.”

“The fact that I was still rejected after that confession kind of balances out the relief, though.”

“Yeah… you’ve got a point…”

Andrew heaved a sigh, closed his eyes as he let himself fall back fully in his chair. He hadn’t slept after that conversation with you. Or well, ‘conversation’ didn’t quite fit what had happened; it was rather a fight.

He had waited for an early but somewhat decent hour in the morning to call Sam, and ask if he could come buy. It was 8:13, and he was sipping on a black coffee, sitting at the table with him now. Daphne was taking a shower. Andrew had dropped by a bakery to get some pastries for breakfast, knowing he was depriving his friends from some well-deserved rest, but if Sam had already eaten, Andrew had not taken a single bite.

He nervously rubbed his palms, until the skin was painful and red, but he didn’t seem to notice.

“What are you going to do now?” Sam asked after a rather long silence.

But Andrew merely shrugged.

“What could I do? She doesn’t want me… All I can do is try to find a way to move on. Christ… how do you move on from that?”

“Getting awfully drunk sounds like a reasonable beginning,” Sam smiled.

“Well, perhaps, but not at 8 am,” Daphne chuckled, finally walking into the kitchen, her hair still wet from her shower.

She hugged Andrew tight.

“I’m sorry, Andy.”

“It’s alright.”

“I don’t have a clue what’s going on in her head…”

“Daphne… don’t. Please, don’t…”

She pulled away, got herself some coffee as well, before joining the two men around the wooden table.

“The way I see things… she’s freaking out. She’s freaking out and rejecting her feelings.”

“Daphne…”

“It makes no fucking sense!”

“It makes perfect sense. She doesn’t see me like that. It was just sex for her, and it wasn’t for me, and I was a damn fool. There’s nothing more to say about that.”

“There’s a lot more to say about that. The way she talked about it… she was just afraid…”

“Please…”

Andrew buried his face in his hands. He heard Sam gently shushing Daphne when she started speaking again.

“Come on, now! Tonight, we’re getting brilliantly drunk you and I!” Sam promised his friend.

“Good idea,” Andrew nodded.

A heavy silence followed.

“Andy… I know that this is not the time but… about the wedding…”

“Hmm?” Andrew finally looked up at his friends again.

“You… you’re still going to come, right?”

Andrew frowned hard.

“Of course, I’m coming. Why wouldn’t I?”

“Because Y/N is my maid of honour,” Daphne let out in a breath.

“Oh… I hadn’t thought about that,” Andrew admitted.

But he quickly shook himself.

“Of course, I’ll come. I’m the best man! Don’t worry about that.”

“I… I understand that you won’t want to see her, and we can totally avoid the two of you being in the same room while we’re planning the wedding, but during the ceremony and everything…”

“Guys, don’t worry. I’m an adult, I can handle seeing my ex for a day.”

Andrew blinked and frowned.

“Technically, she’s not even my ex, we weren’t together, as she enjoyed reminding me last night…”

“You promise you’ll come, right?”

“Sam, of course, I’ll come. Don’t worry. It’s your wedding, you don’t have to worry about me and my stupid broken heart. I’ll be there, and I’ll just… behave politely towards Y/N. Nothing more, nothing less. Anyway, the wedding is in seven weeks, she’ll probably bring someone…”

The doorbell rang, and Daphne got up to answer the door, while Sam was patting Andrew’s shoulder.

He was attempting to guide the conversation back to something a little more joyful when the sound of someone crying reached the kitchen. The two men looked at each other with a frown.

“Daphne? You’re alright?” Sam called, standing in a hurry, Andrew following suit.

But it wasn’t Daphne who was crying. Sobbing, actually.

She was holding you in her arms. You were shaking with sobs, you seemed about to fall, and crumble to the ground…

Andrew felt tears rising to his eyes at the sight, but he quickly blinked them away. It was about the only movement he could summon though. He was too stunned to move another muscle, remaining frozen in his friends’ hallway.

His first reaction was to want to run to you, hold you in his arms until you would stop crying. Were you hurt? Why…? What was going on?

But then he heard your whisper…

“I’ve fucked up… Daphne, I’ve fucked up so bad… I’ve fucked up everything with Andy…”

To hear his name acted like a punch in the guts, knocking all the air out of his lungs. His brain started to properly function again, and puzzlement slowly replaced worry.

You were crying about last night?

“Andy…” Sam called as Andrew stormed through the hall to grab his coat and shoes.

You finally noticed that he was there, and remained frozen, staring at him with your puffy red eyes and cheeks stained with tears. He didn’t look at you. He couldn’t.

“Andy… Wait!”

But despite Sam’s protest, Andrew was out in the blink of an eye, hurrying out of the house and out of your life…

He didn’t stop before he had reached his car, hearing Sam run after him.

“Wait, Andy… I didn’t know she was going to drop by.”

“I know… I know… It’s alright.”

“Andrew…”

“I just… I can’t see her right now.”

“I understand. I just…”

“It’s alright, Sam. We’ll see each other tonight at the pub, okay?”

Sam reluctantly nodded, and Andrew hurried inside his car.

All he could do for now was trying to move on, move forward, always forward. He drove aimlessly around the countryside for a while, before finally going home.

Was he moving forward, or just running away?

On a scale from one to drunk, Andrew was hammered.

He reckoned that he hadn’t drunk that much since College… or no, scratch that. Since his first record. Yeah, he had had some nice party time during that period, a mix of testing his limits on the road and the buzzing excitement of a long list of first times.

Only, a few years had passed, and after that last whiskey, he wasn’t too sure if he could handle alcohol as well as he did back in the days…

Sam was laughing his arse off over something stupid, that Andrew had forgotten already, but he was giggling along anyway. The buzz of the liquor was making him dizzy, light-headed, with his cheeks on fire and his thoughts a mess.

God… it felt good to forget you for a moment.

The pub was full of life and laughter. A group had started drunkenly slurring through a few songs, but Andrew was hoping not to be recognized and asked to sing, he wasn’t in the mood. You were the only thing he could write about these days, singing reminded him of you…

It was fun, it was an easy and temporary fix to his heartbreak, but Andrew welcomed the momentary reprieve all the same.

That was until Sam became suddenly much paler than before, and pressed a hand over his mouth, choking on his laughter.

Andrew blinked, grabbed his friend’s arm and pulled him as quickly as his wobbly legs could carry him to the bathroom.

Sam had barely knelt down in an empty stall that he was throwing up.

Andrew patted his back a couple of times, waited for his friend to calm down. He sat behind him, against the wall of the tiny bathroom. He didn’t care that the ground was dirty and highly unhygienic… for now he was pressing his temple against the cool tiling on the wall to counter the spinning of his head and the growing pain in his skull.

“You’re alright in there?” he called for Sam, looking at his friend still bent over the toilet.

Sam didn’t answer, merely threw up again.

“I’ll take that as a ‘not dead yet’,” Andrew answered in a fit of stupid giggles, and closed his eyes.

A few minutes later, he heard Sam shifting near him, and he forced his eyes open again, despite his exhaustion and the pain piercing his head.

“You’re okay?”

Sam finally crawled on all fours to join Andrew next to the row of sinks.

“Yeah, better,” he nodded, stumbling to his feet to wash his mouth. “Thanks, mate.”

Andrew merely gave him a thumbs up, before closing his eyes again.

Sam sat down next to his friend then, ignoring a newcomer who had just come in.

“Damn… I don’t think I’ve been this hammered since College,” Sam mumbled, while Andrew merely hummed in agreement. “Do you remember that party by the beach? Alex was fucking out of it, and then the cops arrived! We ran so fucking fast! I thought Alex was going to piss his pants, he was in pure panic!”

Andrew laughed at the memory.

“You tripped on a root and fell like a fucking child. Hands and knees all scrapped,” Andrew added, making Sam double-over with laughter.

“And you banged your head in at least five branches! I thought you’d get a concussion!”

“The red marks on my forehead the next day!”

The two men were laughing hysterically, sitting there on the ground, ignoring anyone else who would come in and throw them amused looks.

They remained there two more minutes without being disturbed. No one was coming in anymore. It seemed as though even the sound of conversations and music from the main room of the pub had quietened.

And there you were again, your picture against his closed eyelids. First the sight of you waking up by his side in the morning. Then the memory of your skin against his. Your voice. Your smile. You turning to look at him, and beaming with this grin of yours that was brighter than any star…

A tear rolled down his cheek and into his beard before he could notice.

“Christ… Sam… I love her so fucking much…”

He vaguely heard Sam shifting next to him, and he finally opened his eyes. A row of brown doors, on the opposite wall some sinks and some mirrors, and white cold tiling all over the walls. Urinals on the other side of the room.

Instead, he could see you lying in his bedsheets, your head thrown back against his pillow…

“I love her…”

That look of mischief in your eyes as you stole some fries from his plate…

“I’ve never loved anyone else the way I love her… so fucking much…”

Sam wrapped an arm around his friend’s shoulders, pulling him into a hug while Andrew’s silent tears were turning into proper cries.

“It’s going to be okay, Andy… It’s gonna be alright.”

And Andrew knew it was just some stupid fucking lie…

[dira333]

Who am I and where? - Sero Hanta x Reader

for @kovu-bunnbunn

The giant poster of a peeled Banana above his bed is missing.

It’s all Hanta can see at the moment, blinking against the light filtering in. Wait… 

Everything starts spinning when he moves, so he slowly, slowly, eases his head to the left to check.

Yeah. There’s a window. 

There’s not supposed to be a window. 

Where is he?

Blinking, he moves a little further until he can grasp the edge of the futon, reach the phone that’s resting innocently on the nightstand.

The interface is unfamiliar but he’s got no problem perusing through the apps.

It’s a Sunday, eight in the morning. The weather app tells him that he’s still in Musutafu.

But where in Musutafu?

The phone pings with an incoming message, it flashes by for just a second, but long enough to read the greeting at the top.

That is not his name.

Is this even his phone?

Or… or… is he even Sero Hanta, Hero in Training? 

Hanta gasps, regretting it immediately because the pain in his head makes him want to throw up.

A door opens and he fights against gasping again.

There’s a woman standing in the doorway and he’s not sure what your face is trying to tell him. Are you mad? Shocked to see him?

Softly he calls out the name from the message. You perk up and he frowns.

“Is that me?” Hanta asks, putting all his faith in a random person. What if you lie to him?

Your mouth opens, slowly first, but then all at once as you laugh, the noise ringing in his ears until he flinches.

“Sorry,” you whisper, “Sorry.”

“My head hurts,” he whines, “Where am I? Who am I?”

“Here,” you take a few steps until you’re at his side, offering him a glass of water and a bright pink pill. “Take this?”

“Are you giving me drugs?”

You chuckle low. “Painkillers.”

He frowns once more before taking them. It can’t get worse anyway, right?

Up close Hanta can tell how attractive you really are. Way above his league, he’s sure.

But you don’t seem to mind, tucking him in instead.

“Who are you?” Hanta asks.

You smile and repeat the name from the message. “That’s me,” you emphasize, noticing his confusion.

“And who am I?”

“Sero Hanta,” you smile, “Hero Cellophane.”

“I’m a Hero already?”

Your smile widens. “Have been for a year now.”

“And where am I?”

“Your apartment.”

Hanta considers this.

“Nope,” he finally comments. “Not possible. My posters are missing.”

“They’re in the living room,” you point out like it’s nothing. I could take you there but I think you’re still a bit wobbly on your legs.”

“Why’s that anyway?” He harrumphs. He’s never been this dizzy before.

“You got wasted,” you tell him with a laugh, adding to it when his brows pull together yet again. “Weird Quirk. It’s supposed to make you feel drunk. I think you got hit three times, so you must have the worst hangover imaginable.”

“And you are?”

“What do you think?” You ask, smiling like you hold all the secrets of the universe.

He considers this, the curl of your smile, the teasing flickering in your eyes. Maybe… But then again, how awkward would it be to assume only for it to be different?

“Hanta,” you whisper his name like a magic spell, leaning in. “Who do you think I am?”

“Don’t make me guess,” he whines, unable to hold back. Your laugh is soft, rippling around him.

“Fine,” you smile, “I’ll let you figure it out on your own. Do you want to sleep a bit more or are you getting hungry?”

He groans and you snicker.

“Sleep it is. Drink your water, I’ll check in on you in an hour.”

-

The giant poster of a peeled Banana above his bed is missing.

Hanta glares at the bare wall. It would look so good there, he can’t help but think, stretching a little.

There’s a dull pain at… everywhere in his head. It feels like being zapped by Kaminari so he pats around the nightstand, looking for his phone. What he finds, however, is yours, his face smiling back at him from your Screensaver. He grunts, moving through the contacts half-blind, before landing on Kaminari.

“Dude, you suck!” He types before dropping the device back on the nightstand. 

The door opens and he groans again, eyes closed against the pain.

“Feeling better?” You ask.

“No,” he whines. “Why are you not in bed with me?”

You chuckle. “I was making breakfast.”

Hanta sniffs. “Are we eating it in bed?”

“If you want?” 

“Awesome,” he groans when pumping his fist only intensifies the pain in his head.

“How’s the head?”

“Awful,” he exclaims, sighing in delight when he feels you slip under the blanket, thighs pressed against each other. “Hey…”

“Hey,” he can hear the smile in your voice, hums low in his throat when you hover just an inch above his face.

“Are you going to kiss me or not?” Hanta asks, unwilling to open his eyes. You snicker. “I was wondering if you’d let me.”

Instead of answering he lifts his head, finding your lips by touch and smell and all those other senses, never once needing his eyes.

There’s a familiarity to it, to kissing you, that he thinks he’d know you out of thousands by the taste of your lips, the feel of them against his own.

But then again, he wouldn’t want to kiss thousands just to find you. Kissing you is more than enough.

“So you remember me now?” You giggle against his lips. 

His eyes flutter open at that.

“What?” Hanta asks, a little confused.

“You thought you were me an… yes, an hour ago.”

“No way.”

“Yes,” you grin like a chesire cat. “And I got it all recorded.”

“But your phone’s here.”

“Ah,” you smile. “So your brain’s still not up to date yet.”

Hanta huffs. 

“You know, I don’t even wanna know. Can we just eat?”

“Sure, you were the one kissing me, oh hungry boar.”

He pinches your hip and kisses the yelp from your lips.

-

“Baby?” You ask hours later, his head in your lap. “Why did you tell Kaminari that he sucks?”

“Because he does.”

“Any particular reason?”

“He zapped me.”

“Oh,” your hand moves through his hair, scratching at his scalp. “No, he didn’t.”

“What?”

[sh4wty18]

rough day.

pairing: johnnie guilbert x reader

summary: johnnie has a bad day and you comfort him.

cw: fluff, angst, language, suggestive but nothing major

word count: 1.1k + edited

---

You knock on Johnnie and Jake’s front door anxiously, staring down to re-read Johnnie’s most recent text over and over: 

J: please come over.

Y/N: please come over? johnnie we’re dating, you don’t have to be so formal when you want to have sex lmaooo

You had answered him, but never received a reply. You read it at 4:48 pm. He read your reply at 5:01. No response. Not even an “lol”. Johnnie always replied to your texts immediately– he’s head-over-heels and everyone knows it. So when he doesn’t respond, you know for a fact something is wrong. 

Jake answers the door then, causing you to jolt, startled. “Hey, is Johnnie here?” you ask immediately.

“Woah, it’s good to see you too?” Jake teases, clearly oblivious to any issue Johnnie was having, “Yeah, he’s here, in his room. You’re his girlfriend but don’t constantly know his location? Damn, someone doesn’t care about their relationship!” He makes a fake judging expression that can only be described as “yikes!”, and tugged on his shirt collar while pointing at you with his other thumb. He was joking, of course, but you weren’t particularly in the mood right now.

“Jake this is fucking serious. I’m going upstairs,” you push past him and run inside, hearing the front door close as you jog up the staircase to knock on Johnnie’s bedroom door. 

“Hey baby, it’s me,” you say gently. “Can I come in?”

“Yeah,” Johnnie replies, barely audible. 

You open Johnnie’s bedroom door to find him laying in bed, buried deep under the comforter, with only the setting sun shining through the curtains to light the room. You close the door, take off your shoes and pants (for comfort), and walk over to Johnnie’s bed to crawl in with him. He stretches out of his curled position, and turns toward you, cheeks flushed and tear-stained. 

“Oh, baby, what’s wrong?” You lay next to him and pull his waist towards you, indicating to him to lay on top of you. You wrap your arms around each other and he rests his full body weight on you. 

“I don’t know. I have nothing to be upset about. I’m famous, I’m wealthy, I have amazing friends, amazing family, and I’ve found the love of my life at twenty six. I am so fucking privileged and lucky, and yet I still feel like shit all the time. Why can’t I just feel fucking normal?” He sobs at the end of the question, and tucks his face into your chest, crying quietly onto you. 

You don’t quite know what to say in response. So instead of offering unhelpful advice, you run one hand through his hair, pulling him firmly against your chest, as if holding him tighter would somehow transfer his pain to you. You kiss his head and whisper, “I love you,” over and over again until you hear his breathing slow, and feel his body go limp against yours. He needed to rest. Eventually, you feel yourself drifting off as well. You know that when you both wake up, you’ll both be in a better headspace to discuss the situation.

–

Two hours later you begin to regain consciousness. Somehow as you slept, your positions reversed, and now Johnnie was laying on his back with his arm wrapped around your shoulders, holding you close. Your head rests in the crook of his neck, and your arm is draped over his stomach. You squeeze him lightly, and lean to kiss his nose softly. His eyes flutter open slowly, and he gives you a small smile. 

“Hi, beautiful,” he says, blue eyes meeting yours. 

“Hi, pretty boy,” you respond, “Are you feeling any better post-nap?”

He lets out a giggle, and presses his lips gently to yours, “I feel better now that you’re here. I’m sorry I sent you that cryptic ass message with no response. That was shitty. I knew you’d be worried but I still couldn’t bring myself to reply. It was like I was stuck. I couldn’t move out of my covers until you got here. I was frozen, and all I could do was think about how fucking sad I feel right now, and also how fucking stupid I am for feeling shitty when I’m literally one of the most privileged people of all time.”

“Well, I wouldn’t go that far. Sure, you’re privileged, but you recognize that, and you’re grateful. You’re still allowed to be sad, even with privilege. You can’t help how you feel, you’re human. And you’ve been famous for a decade! Most of your youth was spent online!! That’s fucked! You deserve to feel all these emotions! Not that I want you to be sad. I only ever wanna see you smiling. And  I wish there was something I could do. I wish I could just take all your pain away forever. You are the best person I know, Johnnie. I hope you know how much I love you,” you say into his neck, where your face rests.

Johnnie tilts your chin towards his face with his free hand, “I love you more than anyone on this earth, you know that? I have no fucking clue where I’d be without you. And I know you think you suck at giving advice, but that was actually exactly what I needed to hear.” He kisses you again, passionately now, and pulls your body on top of his. 

You run your hands through his hair while you kiss, his hands gripping your thighs as they straddle him, “Getting all deep and emotional with me made you needy, huh?”

Before he can respond, (and before the fire ignites in your lower stomach), you decide to pull away and hop off the bed.

“Noooo, girlfriend, come back,” Johnnie whines in a joking, childish voice. He gets out of bed too, coming up behind you to wrap his arms around your waist. He buries his face in your neck to kiss it as you walk in unison towards his bedroom door.

“You need to eat something, Johnnie, c’mon,” you say. 

He doesn’t respond, instead he starts lightly sucking at your neck as you attempt to open the door. Your breath catches, and you let go of the door knob to wrap both hands around the back of Johnnie’s neck and pull him closer. 

“Johnnie…” you mumble.

“Mmm?” he replies, lips pulling away from your neck and brushing against your ear, “I wanna show my, kind, smart, funny, gorgeous girlfriend how much I love her,” he whispers. 

He spins you around to face him, and, walking backwards, leads you toward the bed. 

You know he doesn’t feel completely better yet. He won’t for a while. But you’re not worried anymore. You have confidence that whatever happens– to either of you– you’ll go through it together. There is no one else either of you would rather experience life with– the highs and the lows.

---

i'm not the biggest fan of this one, but i wanted to post it here! it's also on my ao3 :p

[drewsbuzzcut]

Standing On The Sun And I Don’t Feel A Thing

mat barzal x model!fem!reader

a visceral in doses fic

warnings: hospitals, miscarriages, mentions pain, nausea, and blood, mentions abortion, mentions panic attacks, grief, anger, some angst, and mat being kind of mean, also mentions trying for a baby and I think that’s all (pls let me know if I missed any)

this takes place september 2030

“Where are the kids?” You ask, voice hoarse and eyes puffy.

“Shhh shhh. The kids are with Bev. Baby, what happened? I got a call from the hospital and I went straight to drop the kids off, thank god Beverly was home,” Mat takes a seat next to the side of the hospital bed. He brings your hand into his and you can tell he’s been crying.

“I-“ you start but stop as you start coughing.

“You need some water,” he presses the call button that alerts the nurse.

After a few sips of water, you close your eyes to try to gather your thoughts about all that you could remember.

“This morning, after I got to the photo shoot, I started feeling nauseous and my lower back was in a lot of pain. I just thought I was about to start my period. I don’t really remember anything after that. I think I remember seeing blood and then everyone started freaking out. Eventually everything went black,” you recall the foggy events that led you here.

“Do you know what happened? Did the doctor come to talk to you?” He asks but tries to hide his frantic state.

“I just woke up. I’m still in pain. I don’t know what’s going on. I’m scared, Maty,” you grip his hand really tight, bringing his palm up to your cheek for warmth and comfort.

“It’s going to be okay, baby. I love you. I’m here and you’re going to be okay,” he whispers against your forehead, willing his tears to go away.

A knock sounds on the door and Mat tells them that they can come in. The look on the doctor’s face makes you go pale.

“Is everything okay? Am I okay?” You ask warily.

“It’s nothing too serious, but I regret to inform you that you’re miscarrying at the moment,” the words fade out, your head fuzzy and heart pounding.

“I’m sorry what?” Mat says in shock.

You try to take deep breaths but everything feels shallow.

“Mrs. Barzal, you’re going through a miscarriage which is why you are experiencing severe pain and were bleeding earlier. We do, however, want to perform an ultrasound to confirm,” the doctor says in an eerie tone.

Tears spring to your eyes and you shake your head. This cannot be happening. The nausea returns and twists at your abdomen.

“That’s not possible,” you whisper.

“It’s what your blood test is telling us. We’re going to take you to a different room for your ultrasound,” the doctor says along with some other information before they leave the room.

“Oh my god,” you cover your face with your hands and throw your head back.

“I love you,” Mat kisses your forehead.

“This can’t be happening,” is the only thing you say.

An hour later it’s confirmed that your body is going through a miscarriage, and you feel like everything beneath your feet has been taken from you. You feel so empty and you didn’t even know you were pregnant.

You close your eyes and force yourself to fall asleep, but even then your mind still reels at the events of the day. Not even Mat’s hesitant touch can help you feel better.

“Y/n, wake up,” you hear Mat whisper softly in your ear a couple hours later.

You blink your eyes, the blinding light of the room making your head hurt.

“The doctor said that you will be discharged in about an hour,” he informs you, but you honestly just hear static.

Everything from that point on is a blur of unshed tears and horrific thoughts. The shrill sound of your babies wanting to be in your arms when you get home momentarily distracts you, but that emptiness lingers. You try to distract yourself with being a mom and setting up dates with your close friends. You move throughout the house, cleaning every surface over and over again to keep you sane. You go through about 4 wooden pencils as you write and write until you’re snapping each pencil in half with your strong grip. You take extra long showers to wash away each trace of grief that may be left on your body.

After a week of feeling like a robot, you start to feel every emotion you’ve been trying to push down come back up. It doesn’t help that Mat pulled himself away from you. You don’t remember the last time you had a full conversation that didn’t revolve around your kids or random topics that warranted a 30 second talk. You cancel all plans and lock yourself in the guest bedroom.

The empty feeling spreads from your stomach all over your entire body. How could you not know you were pregnant? Why wasn’t your body strong enough to keep them alive? Why did you feel so alone despite Mat being a father and a mother all while he’s trying to help you?

You sob your eyes out and twist in agony, because each time you feel like you might be okay, you’re reminded that your body failed you. No one prepares you for what it feels like to lose something you didn’t even know you could lose. You hate yourself for feeling this way, because it’s selfish when you already have kids and a husband. A family that’s already felt complete, but now it just feels broken.

It takes several phone calls to your therapist before you feel like you can function without your heart aching every second. You realized that you need your babies’ hugs and kisses. You needed to feel some kind of love.

You attempt to put back all of your broken pieces by playing with your children or napping with them. Simply just being around them puts a smile on your face. You start to feel yourself come around more. You start hanging out with friends again and laughing and feeling anything but sadness. You try to be more positive in situations you’d automatically become upset with.

The only thing that’s keeping you down is Mat. He’s become really good at being just a roommate. He’ll work with you when it comes to the kids, but other than that the space between you both feels like miles rather than inches. You’ve let him keep to himself, because you’re not sure how he’s coping with what happened- especially because you’ve locked yourself away for the past week or so.

Eventually you get tired of his silence and pressure him into talking to you.

“What’s going on?” You ask one night when he’s just getting out of the shower.

“What are you talking about?”

You stay silent for a minute and just watch him. His face conveys nonchalance, but his body is rigid.

“You know what I’m talking about, babe. Why have you been so distant with me? Is it because I’ve been sad? I’m better now and even if I wasn’t, you can still talk to me,” you say, walking up to him and putting a hand on his shoulder.

His body stiffens and he slowly moves away from your touch.

That really hurts.

“It’s not about that, Y/n. Believe it or not, I’m not feeling this way because you were or are sad,” he blurts out.

He continues to move around the room, getting dressed and putting on lotion.

“Okay. So what’s wrong? Why are you being pissy with me?”

“Like you don’t know,” he says.

“Obviously I don’t. Why do you think I’m asking?” He’s really starting to make you mad.

“How could you not tell me?” He finally asks.

“Not tell you what? I’m so confused right now,” you tug on your hair and shut your eyes, trying to come up with the missing details.

“How could you not tell me that you were pregnant? I had to find out by seeing you in the hospital because you were having a miscarriage,” he just about shouts and it makes you flinch.

“I didn’t even know I was pregnant. I was just as in the dark as you were. I would’ve told you if I was pregnant. I can’t believe you’d think that I’d keep something like that from you,” you explain with your voice and head low.

“Shit. I- I’m sorry. I just assumed that you knew and I shouldn’t have. I’m sorry. I love you,” he gathers you in his arms and just holds you.

“I’m sorry I pushed everyone away. I just needed some time to think about things and to be sad,” you say through tears.

“It’s okay. I love you,” he kisses your temple.

“I love you.”

Later that night you’re both in bed, cuddling and basking in the comfortable silence.

“Mat?”

“Yeah, baby?”

“I think you should get snipped,” you voice your most recent thought.

“What?” He questions because he’s not sure if he’s hearing things.

“I really think you should get a vasectomy,” you reiterate.

“Wait… why?”

You adjust in his grip so you can fully face him. Your hand goes to rest on his cheek and you thumb at his skin.

“I think I’m done with having babies. We have 3 and I think that’s enough,” you say.

“No. That’s not what I meant. I mean why do I have to be the one to get the procedure done?”

“Well why not?” You ask back.

“I can’t get that because I have to be sharp for hockey. I can’t spend weeks just lazing around during a recovery period, you know that. You should get your tubes tied,” he explains and you let out a scoff.

You move away from him and get off the bed in favor of pacing around the room.

“I’ve held each of our babies inside of me for 9 months. I breastfed all of them. I just had a miscarriage for a baby I didn’t even know existed. My body is constantly changing. That’s not always an ideal situation for my career, especially because my body is an important aspect of my job. Hell, I’m practically art! So, no, I’m not going to be the one to get my tubes tied,” you rant, eyes squinted and a frown wrinkling your forehead.

“I thought that’s why you started taking classes at Pratt, so modeling wouldn’t be the only thing you have going for you?” He replies, subtly putting words in your mouth.

Your every feature turns down in a sad and disappointed pout. You honestly didn’t see this conversation going in this direction. The whiplash is unreal.

“That’s not what I was aiming for when I decided to take some classes. You’re being a real ass right now,” you bite.

“I’m being an ass? What about you? You just assumed that I don’t want any more kids. You know, I want you to at least want one of them, because if you haven’t noticed you really didn’t want either of them,” he spits out, face red as a tomato.

That makes you cry. That assumption that you never wanted your kids makes you die on the inside.

“At first, you wanted to get an abortion with Nolan,” he says when you stay silent.

You cross your arms over your chest and cock up an eyebrow, daring him to continue.

“You didn’t really want Angel. I remember you saying that you didn’t want any more kids after Nolan,” he adds.

You glare at him in return.

“Lastly, you said you didn’t really like the timing of Sloane and I can’t blame you, because you went and broke up with me and then hid it from me. No wonder I thought you hid this one, too,” Mat rips into you, voice laced with venom.

“You listen to me, Mathew Barzal, if I really didn’t want to have our kids, I wouldn’t have had them. Believe me when I say that. Of course I wanted our kids. Was I scared out of my mind each pregnancy? Yes! Would I take them back? Hell no. I love our babies, so for you to say that really sucks,” you respond, wiping away your tears.

He just shakes his head in return.

“I’m scared of pregnancy. I just lost a baby and you expect me to want to try for another one? I don’t know if I can do that for you, for us,” you correct your last couple of words before he can turn them into something else.

He watches you, staying silent as you fall apart at his feet.

“Is this going to be the end of us?” You ask.

“Why is it always a breakup with you? Is that what you really want? Deep down, do you really not want to be with me?” He accuses.

“No! I just feel like you don’t love me, so I’m not going to beg you to stay if that’s not what you want. I can’t even give you a baby, so there’s that,” you admit.

“I lost the baby, too,” Mat points out.

“I know that, Mathew. I know, but you don’t understand what it’s like as a mother to go through a loss like that. My body should be capable of growing a life. Then you go and say that I didn’t even want my kids. You don’t know what it feels like to feel so utterly empty and alone. It doesn’t matter that I didn’t know that they existed, because as a mother, I should’ve known,” you whisper as your voice starts to become strained.

You feel your chest start to cave in on you and the lack of support makes your knees buckle. You go straight to the floor, tucking your knees into your chest for some kind of stability. You’ve never seen Mat so upset. You’ve never been on the receiving end of it. Part of you is mad at him for the way he’s talking to you, but another part of you understands. This whole miscarriage has turned your world upside down. You’d be naive to think that it wouldn’t affect him too.

“Baby, don’t cry. It wasn’t your fault. I love you, always. I promise it’s going to be okay,” he wraps you in his arms and squeezes you to his chest. He beats himself up for the way his words caused you to crumble. Seeing you break after already being broken down snaps him out of his anger. His word vomit just spewed out, but maybe it was a good thing because everything was out on the table.

You don’t blame him, but that doesn’t mean it doesn’t hurt.

He doesn’t know it, but the beat of his heart does wonders to calm you down before you can have a panic attack.

“Do you hate me?” You lock your hands behind his neck, desperate to have him pressed to you in any way possible.

“Never. I’m sorry I made you feel like I did. I swear I would never hate you,” he rubs your back.

“You said I didn’t want our babies,” you get out through the remnants of your cries.

“Do you really feel that way? Be honest,” you speak again.

“Part of me used to feel that way, but every time I see you with our babies, I see how much you love them. You’re the best mama bear to our little loves. I wouldn’t have had kids with you, if I felt certain that you didn’t want them. I was just being an asshole,” he whispers into your temple.

You sniffle at his response, feeling another bout of tears ready to fall because you never knew he felt that way.

“Are you sad about the miscarriage?” You need his feelings to be transparent.

“Yeah. A lot more than I thought I would be. I’m also angry, because you shouldn’t have had to go through that. I should’ve known you were pregnant, maybe things would be different,” he answers honestly.

“It’s not your fault either. This is just a really sucky thing,” you try to comfort him, but you can see the tears in his eyes and the way his bottom lip wobbles.

“I’m sorry for being mean. I can’t take it back, but just know that I love you so much,” he finally cries.

You pull him closer, hand caressing his neck and back and you kiss his cheeks.

“We’ll work through it. We always do. Do you really want another baby?” You look into his eyes.

“I do. One more baby barzal, but I don’t want you to feel like you have to because I made you feel bad about an insecurity I have,” he admits, thumb wiping away your tears. His forehead leans against yours and for the first time in a couple of weeks, you feel whole.

“Insecurity?” It’s the first you’re ever hearing about it and it shocks you to your core. For as long as you’ve known Mat he’s always been the secure and stable one.

“I sometimes thought you were just having kids to please me and not because you were ready to have them. I guess I was feeling insecure about our age gap. I finally got somewhat of an understanding of what you used to feel like,” he explains and you feel guilty for never realizing.

“Why didn’t you ever tell me? I could’ve soothed your worries a long time ago. Like I said, I had our babies because I wanted to.”

“I thought I could get away with it, but I guess it just bubbled up until I couldn't hold it in anymore. I promise to come to you whenever I get an insecurity, or just any little problem really. You’re my wife, I need you all the time,” he pulls you in for a kiss. You try to kiss every single one of his worries away.

“I would like to purposely try to make a baby, but I don’t know when I’ll be ready. Just have some patience with me,” you say into his mouth.

He shakes his head.

“I don’t want to pressure you into having another baby if that’s not something you want to do.”

“Mat, baby, you’re not pressuring me into anything. I’ve been having some baby fever lately. Miss Sloane is getting older, so it’d be nice to have another baby,” you assure him.

“Whenever you’re ready, I’m ready,” he says, pulling you into a kiss.

“I love you. We’re going to get through this,” you promise him. And you will,, no doubt about it.

Being riddled with grief and guilt- that can only come from the way you both acted towards each other- will make you both stronger in the end. Stronger as individuals, as a couple, and as parents. You’re just glad you’re going through it all with your husband by your side. It’s Mathew or no one, and it’s safe to say that he feels the same way.

a/n: Looks like mat and model!reader have some therapy and lots of talking to do before they fix everything. As always, hope y’all enjoy!

[mamayan]

Ahem. Hotaru Haganezuka ask here. He is a virgin but he's good w his fingers.

Anything for you!♥️ I need to write more for him, he’s such a cutie. I totally screwed up and forgot the virgin aspect, but he’s 100% a virgin before marriage so… this is just some relationship fluff.

☆彡Break Time★彡

Hotaru Haganezuka x Wife! Reader

TW: Spanking (¿) • Couples Argument • Fingering (F) • Very light edging/overstimulation

It’s been days, and for the first time in his life, Hotaru felt guilty.

He knew his own passion and obsession for work worried his fellow colleagues, especially Kozo, who often would monitor and intervene if he was taking it too far and jeopardizing his health. He’d never expressed his gratitude properly, as he is forced to swallow the bitter medicine of experiencing this stress himself.

There you were, his adorable and sweet new bride, working still. Even now. Hardly eating, not sleeping, and while you’ve bathed that’s the longest you’ve pulled yourself from your work. He wanted to be understanding, because truly he too enjoyed the craft he’s dedicated his life too… but it’s different when it’s you throwing your health away. His hypocrisy lost on him though, as he only focuses on the rising anger at your carelessness for your health. Never mind how he treats himself, that’s not the issue here.

You hadn’t moved in eight hours, not even when he spoke or tried to touch you. Instead, you became enraged when he attempted to intervene or redirect.

Hotaru is not a patient man. If he hadn’t been busy with his own work, you wouldn’t have gotten away with this so long.

Your sass and attitude maxing out his boiling point, though not a difficult thing to do, when you’d snapped at him.

“Hotaru! You’re being a nuisance, please let me focus!” You huffed, your tired eyes and furrowed brows not cute enough to stop his explosion.

“Woman! You’re done! Time for a damn break,” you’re hauled into his arms, before being thrown over his shoulder as he furiously rambles at you.

“What’re you even thinking?! Do you want to die?! When was the last time you ate, huh?! Or slept?!” His mood coupled with being torn from your concentration and lack of sleep, ignites your own fiery rage.

You begin pounding uselessly at his wide back, kicking your feet and making his eye twitch as you shout back.

“Idiot! I’m not tired, put me down! Who’re you to judge?! Ah!” You jolt, crying out and cutting your tirade short when a large palm smacks your ass. He lands another on the other cheek even as he storms towards your home.

“I’m stupid?! If you’re not tired, that’s fine. I’ll help make you tired.” He’s fuming, but it’s not anything new with the hot blooded man.

You go to speak again, but a firm squeeze to your ass has you hushing, your gut instinct telling you not to rile him up further. He enters your home and goes straight for your shared bedroom, gently swinging you back to your feet and pushing you down onto your bed.

He tosses the mask and hair cover, revealing his irritated expression and dark gaze.

“You gonna fix that attitude and sleep or am I gonna have to make you?” His arms crossed over his chest expose his forearms as his haori slides up. The thick veins and muscles have you somewhat simmering down, your work becoming slightly less important as you peak up at your husband.

It feels like you’re losing though, as you pout and contemplate the best route to returning to work.

You could give in, but when has he ever made it easy to tear him from his work? You had to tickle him to disable him long enough for Kozo to drag him home. Even then, you had to threaten him within an inch of his life to make him settle and do basic hygiene and eat. You’d become familiar with his knives and throwing them.

Thinking about what a pain he is when it comes to overworking, you can’t help pushing back.

“This is unfair Taru, I’m nearly done anyway so just let me—,”

“Fucking stubborn.” He mutters under his breath, truly not seeing the irony. He drops to his knees, gripping your shoulders and manhandling you onto his lap, sitting your back to his chest while he snickers at your protests.

“You really don’t want to be good for me?” His gruff tone has you pausing in your fight, swallowing thickly at the implication.

You do want to be good for him, but he’s clearly rubbed off on you because you also don’t feel like listening. Being so sleep deprived, you worried if you did rest you’d lose all sense of creativity and your work would be ruined if you stopped now.

“I-I do, but Taru…oh,” you still as you feel his rough hands smooth over your clothes, before slipping beneath to feel your bare thighs.

“Not oh,” He mocks teasingly, leaning over you to lick the shell of your ear as you softly squeal and try to turn away. “You need to say ‘yes my darling Hotaru, my wonderful husband, always know best’.” He can’t see you rolling your eyes, but he knows you aren’t amused in your cranky state. “Don’t want to listen?” His question is foreboding but you just huff in annoyance, trying to wiggle your hips to make his hands either move where you want them or release you.

He lets his fingers dance over your skin for a moment, enjoying the feeling of you in his arms after so many days apart.

Hotaru lets one finger drag up your bare slit, groaning as he realizes you wore nothing beneath your yukata.

“Did you not miss me?” He whispers in your ear, and the moan you release as he lightly uses your slick to coat your clit is lovely. “Your work truly can’t wait? Even for this?” He presses into you, sinking one thick finger deep inside while you pant and grind down onto his hand. “Taru~ feels good,” you melt into his firm chest, letting him slowly pump his digit in and out of your pussy.

He chuckles, letting you get nice and comfortable before he removes his finger, your whine met with a harsh slap over your clit.

He laughs at your cry, back to rubbing soothing circles again. “Didn’t want you falling asleep, you said you weren’t tired right?” Your arousal spiked but annoyance ignited again, you wrap your arms behind you, around his own neck. He complies to your nonverbal demand by leaning further and kissing you, swallowing your moans as you open for him to invade.

Your mouth is nearly as hot as your pussy, his finger returning with another to sink inside you again.

You’re putty in no time. One arm around your waist to keep you still as you moan and cry for him, begging for him to go faster or harder because he’s just shy of doing enough make you cum.

“What’s wrong doll? Wasn’t I a nuisance earlier, but now you’re making so many demands. At least this mouth is cute and honest.” He’s doing it on purpose, keeping your peak just out of reach as you slowly unfold in his arms. The squelching of your pussy is noisy, especially when he picks up speed and intensity, only to drop back to an agonizingly slow and exploratory pace. He has nail marks in his arms, but he’s uncaring as he dedicates his full attention to making you as wet as possible without letting you have an orgasm.

His eyes track your face, tears finally bubbling over and spilling as you sniff and babble at him, begging for forgiveness and mercy.

“Look at you pretty thing, am I just so deep inside your pussy?” He’s not letting you answer, slotting his lips against your own again as he begins to increase his pace, slipping yet another finger inside you. You’ve been held on the edge so long you can’t hold back anymore, crying into his mouth as you finally cum.

Hotaru breaks the kiss in amazement as you jerk and try to claw out of his hold, whining almost as if in pain until he sees the fluids from your pussy squirting out.

“Taru, please, no, I can’t—” you nearly choke on the words, unable to hardly breathe because he just keeps going. Those rough calloused fingers filling you up and spreading you wide as they fuck you.

Unfortunately for you, he’s not paying attention. Too focused and enamored with how much you came, how hard and intense, and without even meaning to, you’re sent over the edge again. You nearly wail, the force of your muscles contracting as the pleasure explodes behind your eyes is enough to almost render you unconscious.

The way you shake and writhe in his arms finally breaks his focus as he looks down at you, so fucked out from his fingers alone you can’t keep your eyes open.

A part of him wants to make you do that again, but another acknowledges his wife needs rest like he originally intended to force.

Orgasms were good for sleep though, right? He always found his mood improving after he’s came, and clearly it worked well for you. Your soft nearly boneless figure in his arms proof.

“Sleepy?” He’s soft, kissing your forehead and cheeks, rubbing his nose against yours as you yawn and nod. “Mhm…” he doesn’t tease you further, laying you down properly on the bed, and getting up for a damp wash rag to clean up, and even making sure you drink some water. He was a bit worried of dehydration since you’d cum so hard.

He could go back to work, there’s another project he needs to start soon…

Your warm and sleepy figure in bed stops him though. He can’t resist stripping and climbing in with you, pulling you close and breathing you in.

While he’s not going to stop work for something measly like sleep or food, he’d never say no to this. Holding you. Sleeping beside you. Waking up with you.

[awkward-walking-potato]

Hello, I am about a month out of ankle surgery, no cast, no boot, I can proceed with normal activities but sometimes my ankle just throbs with pain. May I request Logan helping a reader with day to day activities that they can’t do the same anymore and helping them with their pain? Like reader is stubborn and upset they can’t do things quite normally yet, they have to work their way to that point and have to be kind to their body.

I hope you get better soon and I hope this can help, I think we all need a wolverine to look after us.

The mission had been straightforward, at least on paper—get in, retrieve the intel, and get out. But things never went quite as planned, especially not with Logan. He was the kind of man who expected the unexpected, and he always came out on top. You, on the other hand, were still learning that sometimes things went sideways, no matter how careful you were.

The night had been long, the tension between you and Logan thick as you navigated through the enemy base. Everything had gone smoothly until it hadn’t. The explosion caught both of you off guard—a misstep, a trip wire you didn’t see in time. The blast sent you flying, and you landed hard, the impact shooting pain up your leg. Logan was on you in seconds, his enhanced senses already picking up the injury before you could even register it fully.

“Damn it, stay down,” Logan growled, his voice rough as he knelt beside you. He took in the sight of your twisted ankle, the way it was already swelling. “You’ve broken your ankle.”

You bit back a groan, trying to push yourself up, but the pain was overwhelming, making your vision swim. “I’m fine,” you lied, stubborn as ever. “We need to keep moving.”

Logan’s grip on your shoulder tightened, forcing you to stay down. “You’re not goin’ anywhere on that ankle. We need to get you outta here, now.”

You wanted to argue, to insist that you could still make it through the mission, but the pain in your ankle was making it hard to think, let alone move. And Logan’s expression left no room for debate. He was in full protective mode, and there was no way you were getting past him.

Reluctantly, you nodded, letting Logan take charge. He scooped you up into his arms without a word, cradling you against his chest as he made his way out of the enemy base. You hated feeling like dead weight, hated that you couldn’t do anything but hold on as Logan carried you to safety. But there was no denying that the pain in your ankle was unbearable, and every movement sent sharp jolts of agony up your leg.

By the time you made it back to the Blackbird, the pain had dulled to a throbbing ache, but it was clear that your ankle was in bad shape. Logan had already radioed ahead to the mansion, and as soon as you landed, you were whisked away to the med bay.

The next few hours were a blur of painkillers and X-rays, the doctor’s voice a steady drone as he explained the extent of your injury. A clean break, but it would require surgery to set the bone properly. You tried to focus, but all you could think about was how useless you felt, how you’d failed the mission and now you were laid up with a broken ankle.

The surgery went smoothly, or so they told you. When you finally woke up, your leg was wrapped in a cast, your ankle immobilized to give the bone time to heal. The doctor gave you a rundown of the recovery process, but all you heard was how long it would be before you could get back to work—weeks, maybe months before you were back to full strength.

The first few days were rough. You were stubborn, refusing to admit how much pain you were in, but Logan saw right through you. He was always there, a silent, gruff presence that kept you grounded. He helped you with everything—getting out of bed, moving around the mansion, even the simplest tasks like getting dressed. It was frustrating, humiliating even, to need so much help, and your stubbornness only made it worse.

“Stop fightin’ me on this,” Logan said one evening, after he caught you trying to hobble to the kitchen on your own. “You need to rest. You’re only gonna make it worse if you keep pushin’ yourself.”

You glared at him, hating how weak and helpless you felt. “I can’t just sit around and do nothing,” you snapped. “I need to be out there, helping.”

Logan crossed his arms, his expression unreadable. “You need to heal. That’s your job right now. You ain’t doin’ anyone any favors by pushin’ yourself before you’re ready.”

His words stung, mostly because you knew he was right. But it didn’t make it any easier to accept. You were used to being strong, to handling whatever was thrown at you. Now, you could barely walk on your own, and it felt like your independence had been ripped away.

Logan seemed to sense the turmoil you were going through, because he softened, his voice losing some of its usual gruffness. “I get it. Bein’ laid up like this sucks. But you’re only gonna get better if you take care of yourself.”

You looked away, the frustration bubbling up again. “I just… I hate feeling like this. Like I can’t do anything.”

Logan sighed, stepping closer. “You’re not gonna be like this forever. But you gotta give your body time to heal. And that means takin’ it easy, even when it pisses you off.”

You were quiet for a moment, letting his words sink in. He was right, of course, but that didn’t make it any less frustrating. Still, you knew you had to be kinder to yourself, to your body. Pushing through the pain wasn’t going to help you heal any faster.

“I’m trying,” you said finally, your voice small. “It’s just… hard.”

Logan nodded, his expression softening even more. “I know it is. But you’re tough. You’ll get through this.”

His words were a comfort, a reminder that you weren’t alone in this. Logan was there, and he wasn’t going to let you push yourself too hard. It was a small reassurance, but it made all the difference.

The days passed slowly, each one a test of your patience. Logan was always there, whether you wanted him to be or not, helping you with the things you couldn’t do on your own. He was patient, more patient than you expected, and he never once made you feel like a burden.

One evening, after another frustrating attempt to do something on your own, you finally broke down. The pain, the frustration, the sense of helplessness—it all came crashing down, and you found yourself in tears, sitting on the edge of your bed with your casted leg stretched out in front of you.

Logan was there in an instant, kneeling in front of you with a concerned look on his face. “Hey, hey, it’s alright,” he murmured, his rough voice soothing. “You’re doin’ fine. You’re gonna get through this.”

You shook your head, wiping at your eyes with the back of your hand. “I just… I hate this, Logan. I hate not being able to do anything.”

He reached out, gently taking your hand in his. “You’re doin’ more than you think. You’re lettin’ yourself heal. That’s the most important thing right now.”

His words broke through the frustration, and you nodded, squeezing his hand. “I just feel so… useless.”

Logan shook his head, his grip on your hand firm but comforting. “You’re not useless. You’re strong. Stronger than you know. You just need to give yourself time.”

You took a shaky breath, the tears slowly subsiding as you leaned into his touch. “I’m trying,” you said again, this time with a little more conviction.

Logan gave you a small, encouraging smile. “That’s all anyone can ask for.”

The days turned into weeks, and slowly, you started to see progress. The pain became more manageable, the swelling in your ankle reduced, and with Logan’s help, you began to regain some of your independence. It wasn’t easy—there were days when the frustration still got the better of you, but Logan was always there, a steady presence that kept you grounded.

As your strength returned, so did your confidence. The exercises the doctor had given you started to pay off, and soon you were able to move around more easily, even if you still needed crutches. Logan was there every step of the way, helping you when you needed it, but also giving you the space to do things on your own when you were ready.

One evening, as you sat together in the mansion’s living room, you looked over at Logan, feeling a swell of gratitude for everything he’d done for you. “Thank you,” you said quietly, your voice sincere. “For everything.”

Logan glanced at you, his expression softening. “Ain’t no need to thank me. I was just doin’ what needed to be done.”

You smiled, feeling a warmth in your chest that had nothing to do with the fireplace crackling nearby. “Still, I appreciate it. I couldn’t have gotten through this without you.”

Logan’s eyes softened, and he gave you a small nod. “You’re stronger than you think, kid. But I’m glad I could help.”

You leaned back against the couch, feeling a sense of peace you hadn’t felt in a long time. The road to recovery was still ahead, but with Logan by your side, you knew you could face whatever challenges came your way.

And for the first time since the injury, you truly believed that you’d come out the other side stronger, not just in body, but in spirit too.

[romanestuffsposts]

Hi! I hope this is okay, it’s my first time asking you and I don’t wanna burden you. You don’t have to write it but it’ll be super awesome if you do. So could you maybe write where little!reader has a healing power but it would drain her energy depending on how big is the injury. So one time daddy!bucky goes out on his mission but he’s so careless and he got nasty injury it’s so bad, he can’t move without feeling like he would pass out (maybe a big deep cut or smthg) and he did get them stitched or fixed. But cause he’s the best daddy ever he still takes care of the reader and reader is so worried cause he looks pale due to his injury and it looks like he’s in pain and maybe he sits down after awhile and sleep on the couch. Then reader comes to him and saw blood seeping out of his clothes and so reader panicked bcs she thought he’s dying so she can’t help but heal him (despite him telling her to never do it since it drains her). And then Bucky wakes up seeing reader passing out and sees that his injury is gone and he freaks out.

You can decide the ending. Ik it’s a lot but I hope you don’t mind writing this. You’re one of my fav writer and I hope you have a wonderful day!

Hi there love! 💜

Of course it’s totally okay and I actually really love the idea thank you so much for asking me to write this! It’s really good !! 😍

And you’re not a burden at all babe, I absolutely love your demand and I’m more than happy to write it 🫶

I really hope you liked how I turn your beautiful request 💋

Enjoy <33

*****

Warnings : bad words, mention of I jury and blood, anxiety, traumatic,

Pairings : Daddies!Stucky ; Daddy!Bucky x Papa!Steve x Little!Reader

Summary : your daddies want to protect you but what if you want to protect them ?

*****

‘’Okay tell me how bad it is, rogers’’ stark asks through the phone.

It was a late Friday night, it’s been almost two weeks that Tony and Pepper take care of you while your Daddies are on a mission with Dr Strange, Wanda and Natasha.

You’re used to be with them or others of your daddies’s friends whenever they have to leave to save the world so you could sleep in a safe place like they like to say, but this time it start to get really long.

You love Pepper and Tony, in fact you love all of them but you have a little weakness for the big red guy. Tony loves to give you cookies or ice cream through the day so of course he’s your favorite

‘’Yes I’ll get the basement ready for when you land. Get here as quickly as possible and I’ll do my best so we can take care of him right away’’ Tony nods at himself, already preparing everything they’ll need in the next few hours

‘’ alright be careful with him, see you soon’’ he ends up the call and turns around. He gasps and let out a little jump when he sees you standing behind him in the middle of the room

‘’For the love of god’’ he breathes out with a hand on his chest ‘’stop doing that to me, trouble’’ he points his index at you

You giggle at his reaction and watch him walking toward you ‘’it was papa ?’’

‘’Yes it was’’ he smiles at you ‘’they’ll be back today’’ he winks

Your eyes brighten ‘’oh yeahhhhh’’ you yell happily

He watches with a sad smile as you jump away, smiling and singing to get ready for greeting your Daddies, all happy about the good news.

He just hopes everything will be okay and it scares him that he doesn’t know what will happen.

‘’Hey’’ he calls making you turn around. ‘’They’ll have to go in the basement as soon as they get here to give them their vaccines and a check up so you’ll see them after that’’ he lies

You nod ‘’okay’’ and leave

~

‘’Careful’’

‘’Careful’’

‘’Careful’’

‘’I Said careful!!’’ Steve yells ‘’you’re being too harsh with him! Don’t you see that he’s in pain!?’’

‘’Rogers, you go wait outside the room’’ Tony says

‘’The fuck I am’’ he snaps back ‘’if you want me to leave you’ll have to do it yourself because I won’t move from this spot’’

Tony sighs and nods, he can make him leave but it won’t help anyone ‘’as long as you don’t stay on your paths you can stay either way you’re out’’

Steve looks back at Bucky, pain in his eyes as he watches the love of his life laying on the bed, covered in blood

He watches everyone doing their jobs, everything is in slow motion, he feels his breath blocking in the middle of his throat as he stays there, powerless.

Bucky groans in pain making Steve tears up. He hates seeing the people he loves hurting, he does that job to protect the world but to mainly protect his family.

It happens that he or Bucky get hurt on a mission, it happens that you are hurt after falling in the garden or catching a cold after playing outside while it was raining.

All of that happens because it’s a part of life, you can’t be protect for everything, you have to learn and you have to go through experiences that make you grow.

But this, what is happening to Bucky is not a little experience, it’s not a part of life where you can close your eyes and get over it. This will have consequences and he knows that.

The thing he doesn’t know is how he’ll tell you the news…

~

‘’Hi princess’’ Steve smiles as he knocks on your bedroom door.

Like the good girl you are you patiently waited in your room knowing your daddies were home and waited until someone comes and get you.

You turn your head and let out the biggest smile you could. You stand up and your little feet run to carry you right into your Papa’s arms.

He wraps his arms around you and lifts you up ‘’oh I missed you so much my sweet angel’’

‘’I missed you too’’ you kiss his cheek. You frown and pull away after feeling something weird on his cheek. You see a tear falling from his eye and look into his eyes ‘’why you cry ?’’

He kisses your forehead and goes sit on your bed

‘’I changes m’ bed’’ you proudly say, forgetting a little about everything.

He smiles through his tears and takes your hand ‘’that’s wonderful baby’’

He sniffs a little and get back your attention ‘’listen I have to tell you something’’

You look up at him with your bright and beautiful eyes

‘’Daddy had an injury during the mission’’ he starts, your eyes fall more and more as he speaks

‘’He’s downstairs with a lots of doctors who are here to help him getting better but it’ll be hard and it’ll be a long process. We will have to be understanding with him and he’ll need us’’ he caresses your hair ‘’we’ll have to be careful around him’’

A few years left your eyes as you keep staring into your Papa’s

He gently wipes them away and kisses your nose ‘’he’ll be okay sweetie, he has all the help he need and after that he’ll need us’’

You sniff and nod ‘’daddy needs me ?’’ You quietly ask

He nods ‘’yes, daddy needs you’’ he stands up and rests you on his hip ‘’we should be able to see him now’’

After they took care of him, they set him on a calm and quiet room while he was still passed out

That’s where your papa takes you. He opens the door after asking you to be quiet and good and let you in. You slowly walk toward the chair beside the bed and sit down.

You watch all the big machines that make weird noises, it’s big, everything is big in this room.

Your Papa lifts you up and sit you on his slap after sitting himself down on the seat ‘’look how peaceful he looks while he’s sleeping’’ he whispers in your ear ‘’just like you at night’’

~

It’s been a few days now that your Daddy is up on his feet. Like your Papa said he needed help, lots of helps but you’re more than okay to be a part of his healing.

He tried many times to play with you but it just last a few minutes, he gets tired quickly.

You remembered a few days ago that you actually could help your Daddy. You forgot about that because of the anxiety to see your Daddy hurting and your minds were everywhere but on your ability to heal others.

You talked about it to your Papa but he of course said no immediately, just like your Daddy.

It takes a lot of you to use that power and heal people so the less you use it the better you are.

Your papa told you he couldn’t let you do that because he needs you to take care of your Daddy, and if you use your power he’ll have to take care of the both of you.

‘’Okay baby, i need to lay down a little bit I’m really tired’’ Bucky breathes out after playing with your dolls. He made an effort and played longer than usually but he can’t take it anymore

You help him laying down on the couch and keep playing silently while taking glances at him from time to time.

Today he’s more pale than before, you start to feel that he’s not getting better and the idea of him having an infection or anything bad is terrifying you.

If daddy is healed then he doesn’t need me so I can use my power you tell yourself

So your choice is done.

You stand up and kneel beside the couch. Your put your hands above his wounds without touching it and close your eyes, letting all your magic go.

~

‘’Sweetie I’ll need your help for dinner’’ your Papa says as he walks down the stairs. He makes his way in the living room but stop in his tracks when he sees you on the floor beside the couch

‘’Oh my god’’

He rushes toward you and feel that your body is really cold. As he keeps touching you he glances at your Daddy on the couch and look at his wound.

He shakes Bucky awake knowing that now it’s like he was never hurt at all ‘’Buck I need your help’’

Don’t get him wrong, he’s more than happy that Bucky is finally okay but not like that and now is not the time.

Bucky groans ans opens an eye ‘’Steve I’m tired I need to sleep’’

‘’she healed you you don’t need to sleep now you need to help me’’ he says anxious ‘’now!’’

It take two secondes at Bucky to realise what happened and he immediately stand up ‘’get her to bed while I take the towels’’

They know what to do, whenever it happens you need the same things. You need to be laying on a bed with hot towels all over you to raise your body temperature. You need sugar ready for when you open an eyes and water, lots of water.

And that’s exactly what your Daddies are preparing.

They’re resting on your sides the whole time, they talked to you and have the phone on their hands incase something gets wrong.

‘’You’re strong baby, the strongest person I’ve ever met but you can be the stupidest one I’ve ever seen in my life’’ your Daddy jokes before sniffing

Steve smiles upside down as he strokes your cheek ‘’she sure is’

You groan and frown ‘’not true’’

They both let out a breath of relief, your daddy kisses your hand while your papa takes the water ‘’here baby’’

He helps you drinking and then come sit beside you ‘’why did you do that beautiful ?’’ Your Daddy asks, sitting on the other side

‘’Because I wanted to help you’’ you quietly say

‘’no baby, it’s really nice of you for that but you are our priority, it hurts you to heal people and even more if the injury is big. All I need is you to be healthy and okay’’ your Daddy kisses your forehead

‘’Do you understand that ?’´

You nod ‘yes daddy’’

‘’Good’’, ‘’beside that, thank you for doing that for me, my love’’

You smile and snuggle closer to them

‘’You’re tired baby ?’’ Your papa asks, putting the cover more above you.

You nod and close your eyes from the tiredness

‘’It’s okay, it’s been a rough week. Sleep baby we’re not getting anywhere’’ Steve says as he kisses your nose

You feel them shifting beside you to lie down and let your exhaustion take over you

[abbyromanoff]

Destiny Can Be Hell

Pairings: Kate Bishop x fem!reader, (past) Kate Bishop x Yelena Belova

Word count: 13,106

Warnings: cheating (R has a husband), older!R, arguing, drinking, mentions of drugs (cocaine, heroine, weed, LCD, mushrooms), smut, fingering, face riding, cunnilingus, handcuffs, mommy kink (R), excessive pet names (baby girl, baby, sweetheart, honey, etc), mentions of gagging, thigh riding, strap on use (K), public sex, masturbation, phone sex, biting, spitting, Kate has mommy issues, almost getting caught, abuse of power, powerbottom!R, service top/switch!Kate, degrading, guilt, angst, fluff, multiple orgasms, praising, smoking, jealousy, think that’s about it :)

This is based on the show “Gypsy” on Netflix, def recommend it!

No one is permitted to steal, copy, or reblog my work as their own!!

“And then she just left. H-how can someone just throw you away like you meant nothing to them?” You nodded with understanding, making another small note on your paper marked with the words, ‘Yelena Belova’.

“Honey, I know this may be hard to take in but, do you think she might’ve just, say, gotten bored?” The blonde looked at you through tears and gulped down her nerves. She wasn’t the easiest to get through, but after nearly six months together you learned how to reach her. Her parents had forced her to come here if she wanted to continue living with them, and, due to her having nothing left in her bank account, she had to agree.

“But, why? I don’t think I’m all that boring, am I?” You quickly shushed her with a shake of your head, grasping her clasped hands in your own.

“Trust me, Lena, you are not a bore. But, sometimes some people struggle being with others or spending so long with one person, and that’s their own battle that they need to fight on their own, you can’t help them. And no matter how badly you want to help them and be there for them, is it really worth losing your mind and sanity over?”

“But I loved her..”

“I know you did. But there comes a point where you need to give yourself an ultimatum, are you going to ruin your life for hers when you still need to live with yourself every day? While I know you’re such a sweet, young girl who just wants to help others, you’ll never be able to fix someone; you have to be able to fix yourself.” She moved into your arms, wrapping her own around your shoulders as she cried. It pained you to hear it when you had started developing a love her for. She was almost like a daughter to you that you’d be willing to protect at any cost and knowing you couldn’t protect her heart from that asshole only hurt more.

“Thank you, Y/N.” She used to call you Mrs. Y/L/N, but you had insisted that she call you by your first name, hearing the title always made you feel old.

“Of course, kiddo. Now, let me assign you your homework for the week, okay?” She agreed, wiping the tears from her face before you handed her a tissue from your desk. You grabbed a new sheet of paper and wrote down her assignment, ‘Remove all things belonging to your ex from your belongings and put them somewhere hidden where you won’t find them.’

When you handed it to her she looked shocked. She didn’t know if she could do so, but she’d try for you and herself.

“And don’t forget, even if you don’t complete it yet, you still have a long time to do so. And no matter what, I’ll always be proud of you, Yelena.” You said your goodbyes before sitting on your desk chair, spinning in it for a moment before throwing your head back and letting out a sigh. You were exhausted and wanted nothing more than to go home, but you still had one more session.

After another hour of listening to one of your patients, you finally decided to head home. But first, you wanted to stop for some coffee. You had been craving it for a few days now that your espresso machine broke and you were running late this morning so you didn’t have time to order any.

The doorbell chime rang as you entered but it didn’t draw many eyes, there were already at least twenty-ish people in here.

“Can I have one small cold brew, please?” The man in front of you nodded and wrote down the order, yelling to some girl in the back to make it. You waited patiently and passed the time by going on your phone, smiling at the video your husband sent you of him and his friends saying hello. They were at the bar for an after-work drink and he would most likely not be back for another two hours.

Your eyes soon landed on a flyer in front of you, it was bright yellow and practically begging for your attention. It was an advertisement for a band who were playing this Friday at the local pub. All of a sudden, you heard your name being called and shot your eyes up to see who it was, almost forgetting where you were.

“Cold brew for Y/N!” You walked forward, your eyes still examining the piece of paper and the details written on it. You weren’t exactly planning on going but the idea didn’t disappoint.

“Nice flyer, lady.” You looked up with a raised brow, eyeing the girl in front of you who just grinned.

“It’s my band, I’m the lead singer.”

“Oh! Sorry, I thought you were just being rude there.” You chuckled with embarrassment, walking over to the side where napkins and straws were placed.

“So, you going?” The girl was still there, even if she most likely had many other orders to take.

“Uh, I might. I’ve never really been that into rock.” She shrugged. You didn’t know why she was wasting her time talking to you but you weren’t mad about it, either. In fact, there was a small part of you that enjoyed the small talk with her, even if you only knew her for a minute or less.

“Well, I promise we won’t disappoint. And if you do go, I’ll buy you a shot on me, deal?”

“And why would you do that for me?” She shrugged once again, a smirk teasing at her lips.

“‘Cause you’re hot.” Was all she said before returning to her spot in the back where you guessed she would make the drinks. You chuckled to yourself and tried to hide the blush now adorning your cheeks from any pass-byer’s as if they’d even care for one second what you were giddy about.

“Welcome home, my love.” You greeted your husband from the bed as he entered the room. He took off his suit jacket and pecked your cheek before entering the master bathroom.

“How were the guys?” He took a moment to respond due to him having still been brushing his teeth. Once he spit out the toothpaste, he spoke.

“Fine.” You hummed and pressed your lips together before turning to shut your bedside lamp off. You both had noticed the distance between you two starting to grow even more, but you were trying to hang on for the sake of this marriage.

“Goodnight, Steve.” He responded in a tired voice and quickly fell asleep next to you. Even after he brushed his teeth, you could still smell the alcohol residue on his breath and body.

He wasn’t a horrible man, he just wasn’t the best husband either. He loved you, you knew that. But he didn’t know how to show it. When you two had met each other he was receiving help from counselors and you really thought he’d change for you. He was a sex addict, nothing else mattered when sex would be involved. You thought you could fix him, and that’s why you had given Yelena that advice, so she wouldn’t end up like you who’d dread going home to her partner every night.

You toyed with your ring before placing it on the bedside table along with your blue-light glasses. Your hand lingered over the paper from today before you grabbed it once again. You were wondering what was happening to you, you didn’t even know this woman but you were still considering going.

Friday had come quicker than expected and here you were, sitting in your office with your work bag being filled with your current clothes. You looked too professional for a small bar and a band, so you thought you’d try and look your best for once since your wedding day.

“Ooh, what’s the special occasion for miss sexy tonight, hm?” You rolled your eyes at your coworker's words, Wanda had always been such a flirt.

“Don’t you have a husband and children to get home to, Wands?”

“Yes, but they have me all the time, I need a break from those brats.” She sat down in front of you as you ate the rest of your fruit bowl from today for dinner.

“I told you, I’m always willing to babysit if you need a break. I may not have children but I am good with them.” She leaned back into her chair and sipped from her mug thoughtfully.

“Why don’t you and Steve have kids? I mean, you’re thirty-five, Y/N, and you’re not getting any younger. Besides, with the muscles on that man, he could carry the babies for you.” You laughed along with her, resting your head on your hand. It’s not that you didn’t want kids, you’ve thought about it before. But having them with Steve didn’t seem like a possibility, especially with his addiction.

“I- I don’t know, I don’t think it’s going to happen.” Wanda looked at you, looking be-widdled at your statement. You knew how much she adored the thought of children, even if she complained about hers all day long. So for her to hear you weren’t going to have any was like a stab in the heart, even to her.

“What? Y/N, honey, you can’t be serious right now.” You shrugged without care and stood up to remove your empty bowl from the table. You placed it in your bag and put it on your bare shoulder, giving a kiss to Wanda’s cheek as you started to walk out.

“We’ll talk about it another time. But for now, I’m going to have some fun at the bar before I have to go back to doing nothing at home.” She slapped your ass playfully as you left, and you strutted your hips just to tease her.

The moment you entered the small building, a strong wave of alcohol hit your nose, you could’ve choked on it. You grabbed a margarita and sat in a booth all alone, questioning if you should’ve even come here in the first place. That was until you looked at the stage and there she was, setting up the microphone while her crew set up their own tools. You couldn’t put your eyes anywhere else. It was like staring at the sun, you knew it wasn’t good for you, but the feeling was so powerful that you didn’t want to look away.

Her voice soon boomed across the whole place and drew everyone’s eyes onto her, you wished you were the only one though. She thanked everyone for coming out tonight before she opened her mouth to sing, the vocals leaving her like it was second nature.

You moved to the front of the row, watching her with admiration. The lights were a dark red and the ones on stage were a bright, beaming yellow. It somehow illuminated her skin perfectly. Her nose ring shined and you were immediately drawn to it. Oh, how she could captivate you so much in such little time was insane, but you didn’t want to lose this. When her eyes met with yours you swore you saw hearts all around, you felt like you would’ve nearly fainted if it wasn’t for the people behind you squishing you.

Once she got off stage and thanked everyone again, you walked back to your booth to collect your things. You didn’t plan on staying, but that was until you heard her booming voice over the other patrons.

“I didn’t expect you to actually show up, coffee girl.” You grinned at the nickname and shook your head loosely before regaining eye contact with her.

“Where are you headed? I promised you a drink, didn’t I?”

“Uh, I should probably be getting home soon, I wasn’t exactly planning to stay out very long.” She rolled her eyes and dragged you towards the bar, yelling to the bartender for two fireball shots. You looked at her with wide eyes until she sat down, slapping the seat next to her to signal you to sit.

“You guys were really good up there.” You said, ruining the silence that overtook you both. She looked over to you, downing the shot with a raised eyebrow and the same classy smirk she gave you yesterday.

“Why, thank you, coffee girl.”

“You can just call me Y/N, coffee girl.” You teased her, smiling to yourself when you notice she doesn’t seem uninterested.

“Well then, Y/N, you can call me Kate.” You two continued small talk for nearly half an hour, most of it being about her band and her work. But she was intrigued to know more about you than herself, she wanted to know your life story, but you weren’t being that easy.

“So, Y/N,” You hummed in response. “Tell me about yourself.”

“Well, what exactly would you like to know?” She seemed deep in thought as she stared into the pupils of your eyes. You were like a mystery she wanted to solve.

“How old are you?”

“Thirty-five.” She clicked her tongue happily.

“Mm, I like my women older.” Your mouth fell open at her comment before you shook yourself off when she showed no sign of the words affecting her as they did you.

“Any kids?”

“Nope.”

“Husband? Wife?”

“Husband.” She examined the way you took a moment longer to answer and furrowed her brows together. She looked down at your hand.

“Where’s the ring?” You followed her eyes to where she was right, there was no ring on your finger to prove you were in fact married.

“Oh- right, I must’ve forgotten it at home.” You nervously chuckled, hoping that she’d drop it without further questioning. She did.

“Ever been with a woman before.”

“Uh, no. No, I haven’t.” You stuttered, rubbing the back of your neck as your leg bounced quickly.

“Even better.” What was that supposed to mean? You wanted to ask her, but she was already starting to walk out the door. You followed her with hesitation, wondering if she even wanted you to.

“Where…where are you going?” There was a small bit of hope in your tone. You were hoping she wouldn’t just leave you like that, especially when you enjoyed talking to her so much. The other women you knew weren’t like her. They weren’t as fun or energetic. Their voices didn’t have your ears making love, it only made them burn to hear them talk about their children and how pathetic their husbands are.

You wondered how Wanda would react to this. Knowing that you were practically falling for a girl nearly half your age. Especially when she adored your husband for whatever reason it was that she had said before, you probably weren’t listening anyways.

“For a smoke. Wanna join?” You let out a breathy nod, her face nearly inches from yours. She stared down at your lips for a moment before looking at your facial features, her mouth slightly parted just enough so you could see a small number of her teeth.

“You don’t smoke.” She said before dragging you with her by your hand, her own loosely grabbing the tips of your fingers to guide you with her.

“How do you know that?”

“I can read you like a book, baby.” The side of her mouth parted upward as she grabbed the small box from her back pocket. Her other bandmates were already out there, most likely high out of their minds and snorting a line off of the stairway. You bit your lip in order to not let anything slip that you knew you’d regret later on.

“Hey! Lighter.” She yelled to someone who you didn’t know the name of and quickly after, a lighter was thrown at her and she caught it in her hand like it was a baseball. She leaned against the alleyway wall, one of her legs holding her up while the other folded at the knee to rest on the wall.

“You want one or not?” She nodded in your direction with the box in her hands. You reached out after a moment of worry. You were wondering if this was a bad idea, but what harm could one do? She put the small container back into her back pocket after you took one, lighting her cigarette before cupping her hands around yours and doing the same. The moment you inhaled the tough smoke, your lungs filled with the disgusting taste of it. It traveled down your throat and tickled it on the way. She laughed when you had a small coughing fit.

“You look like me the first time I smoked.” You were never the adventurous type when you were younger, often opting in to finish your studies or watch a movie. It paid off in the end when you had a good-paying job and a nice house, but there were still times in your life when you regretted not having the same amount of fun your past friends had. While half of them either ended up with addictions or dead-end jobs that did nothing to support them, you still wished you got to experience all of those events instead of having your first drink of alcohol with your parents on your twenty-first birthday. God, how that still embarrassed you.

But Kate wasn’t like that. She was a nineteen-year-old girl with a passion for music. She wasn’t in college and she had a boring job serving and making coffee. But at the end of the week, she got to unwind with her vocals and melodies. You aspired to be the kind of girl she is.

“You ever done worse than cigs?” You asked in a beat of silence, your stance matching Kate’s but clearly looking more awkward and forced than she did.

“Depends, what do you see as worse than this?” You shrugged, going over all the options in your head of the things you’ve always heard people around her age getting addicted to. Even one of your clients had come to you, seeking help with the depression she had dealt with, mainly due to the pills she used on a daily. Her boyfriend was abusive and a drug dealer, her mother was on her death bed, and her scholarship was ruined due when they found out what she was taking. Her father had left her when she was young and she had no one left, she couldn’t even face her mother after the events took place.

“I don’t know, like…weed. Cocaine, heroin, LSD, anything really.”

“I smoke weed often, but I’m not an addict. I’ve tried cocaine once, didn’t like how it made my nose feel after. And that’s really it. Oh, I did use mushrooms before too.” She casually spoke, as if she hadn’t admitted to taking illegal drugs. After all, she didn’t know if you were a cop, she didn’t know anything about you.

“And?”

“And, it wasn’t horrible, but fucking expensive.”

“And weed isn’t?”

“Nah, my pals mostly give me a discount on it. They grow it themselves so they make a fuck load of money, they don’t need mine.” She stomped on the cigarette bud that was now on the ground before saying bye to her pals. It was already late and you two had been standing there for over an hour in the peaceful, cold night. Well, peaceful wasn’t the best word to describe it. Cars were honking at one another and angry drivers were shouting. Some people were shouting and fighting the air, you took note of their bodies and came to the conclusion that they were under something stronger than what you were using. Music was still blaring from the pub and people were getting kicked out left and right, some leaving with blood dripping down their faces.

“So, you wanna head back to my place?” While you wanted to take up the offer, you knew you couldn’t. You hadn’t even told your husband the truth about where you were, insisting that you were staying late at work to finish some files before getting a quick drink with Wanda. He’d know something was up if you didn’t come home that night, and with Kate’s clear intentions, you knew you wouldn’t be heading home afterward.

“Uh, I can’t. My husband would probably be suspicious if I weren’t to return home.” She smiled devilishly at your words, trailing her fingertips lightly against your arm. You shivered, and it wasn’t from the close-to-negative temperature.

“Where’d you tell him you were going?”

“Staying late at work, then getting a drink with a friend of mine.”

“Ah, the classic cheating excuse, sometimes works, sometimes doesn’t.” You looked at her dumbfounded and stepped back from her touch.

“I’m not cheating on my husband.”

“So, this,” She stepped towards you once again, your body fighting against you and leaning into her. She placed her hands on your ass and pulled your forward, looking into your eyes with that hazy look she had. She leaned her face into your neck, brushing her lips against the soft skin as her breath tickled you.

“This is nothing?” She whispered as you felt a small peck landing on your neck. She did it one, two, three times before you came back to your senses and pushed her off of you.

“Stop it, Kate! I’m not going to cheat on my husband, I still love him.” She raised her hands defensively and laughed. Oh, how you wanted to rip that smirk off her face. But simultaneously, you wanted nothing more than to see that smirk as she hovered over you, her cold fingers causing goosebumps to erupt over your skin as she touched you just below the belt. Having her peel off your pants, kiss down your body as your head would be thrown back when her tongue would lick up all of your wetness caused by her.

“Then why did you even come here?” You tried keeping a hardened face, although it wasn’t exactly easy with the thoughts racing through your mind.

“You really expect me to believe you just wanted to hear me sing? Please, I’m not that innocent, Y/N. I know you wanted to see what else I could do with my mouth-” You tried walking away before anything could escalate, but her hand gripped your wrist with a tight hold.

“Don’t walk away from me, baby girl.”

“I’m older than you, I’m not your baby.” She shook her head with a laugh. The number of times she had chuckled tonight was unbearable, but you wanted to hear more of it. You chased the sound that was so heavenly to you.

“Yeah, well, I wanna call you my baby girl if you let me. Will you be my baby girl, Y/N?” Yes. Yes. Yes, is what you wanted to scream out. You could’ve died just at the thought of her calling you that alone.

“I-”

“Let me have your phone. I’ll put my number in it and you can text me if you want. Or, you can go home to your husband and sleep in his arms while you wish it was me.” You reached into your purse and handed it to her after a moment. Your mind raced with any possible fear you could have, but you stood still and didn’t let it show. She opened your phone, the lack of a password making it easy to access anything she’d want. But she only went to contacts, typed in her digits, and gave it back to you. She leaned in to kiss your cheek and gave you a wink as she left. You were stuck in your spot, staring at your phone that had at least ten messages and calls from your husband that were silenced when you put it on do not disturb. You sighed and rubbed your temples with your hands before walking to the sidewalk of the loud street, calling over a taxi, and having him drive you home. You paid sixty-two dollars and thirty-two cents and thanked the man before exiting the car, walking to the front of your house, and using the key to enter.

Your husband was dead asleep in your shared bedroom, the only thing covering his body being a wife-beater and blue, Calvin Klein boxers. You walked into the bathroom, setting your phone down and grabbing your toothbrush. Your mind was plagued with the thought of her, of Kate. You wondered what she was doing right now, or who she was doing.

Once you had put everything away you grabbed your phone, staring at the number and debating on whether or not you were going to reach out. You wanted to, but there was still that small lingering fear that had you wondering if you should or not. If you did, you could risk your marriage and your heart. But if you didn’t, you could risk the unknown never being discovered.

Fuck it, you thought as you typed in a quick message to the woman, checking your phone every few seconds for a response. You didn’t expect one so fast, but she was record timing with her two-minute wait to respond.

Kate: So you did take up my offer after all

You: Yeah, I did.

You waited for her text with beads of sweat practically dripping down your face. You were so anxious and kept looking out the door for any sign of your husband waking up. He was out cold.

Kate: You don’t gotta be so formal on text yk

You: Well, I guess I just like being formal. Is that so bad?

Kate: Not at all baby

You: Why do you keep calling me that? I’m nearly twice your age, if anything, I should be calling you baby.

The three dots went in and out before you put your phone down, trying your best to think about anything else but failing in the end. You couldn’t stray away from her for more than a minute before you were falling back in for more.

Kate: You want me to be your baby?

You sucked in a breath, shuddering as you released it. You were up against the wall as you slid down it, the cold tiles pressing against you through the thin shirt you had on. You only wore a loose, lacy camisole and matching panties. Steve loved seeing you in it but he was too tired to be granted that gift.

You: I don’t know, maybe.

Your hand lowered into your panties, feeling your wet slit as you slowly parted your legs. You nearly jumped when your fingers made contact with your clit, you were absolutely dripping. How did she have such an effect on you in such little time? The question was one you’d never know. But what you did know was that you were in need of her. You needed her cold, long fingers replacing yours.

You pictured her face as you came to an orgasm. Her hair surrounding her perfectly sculptured face, falling over you as she laid on top of your shaking body. Her plump lips bringing you to another orgasm. Her soft thighs clenching as you returned the favor. Her breath shaky and hollow, a mere image of yours right now.

Kate: You still there Y/N?

The ding brought your focus back onto the phone, but still on her. You wanted to tell her what you had just done, would she think you’re too weird? Would she like it? Would she block you? You chose the safest bet in letting this rest in your deepest, darkest secrets file stored in your mind.

You: Sorry about that, I was doing something.

Three dots, a bubble. A response.

Kate: What were u doing?

You contemplated your options. If you told her, there was the risk of creeping her out, scaring her away for good. And you didn’t want that, she was one of the first people you enjoyed talking to in years. But if you didn’t tell her, maybe she’d never make a move on you again. That seemed great for many, but the facade you put up was only out of fear. Fear of someone seeing, fear of cheating, the fear of falling in so deep for her.

You: Just getting dressed.

You went with the safer option, feeling like your life was a video game where every small question can change the whole ending. Your nails were being bit down on as you anxiously awaited her.

Kate: What are u wearing?

Not what you were expecting. But with Kate, nobody could ever expect anything besides the unexpected. That’s what you enjoyed about her, she was unpredictable. She was like an adventure to a new country, you had no idea what you were doing or saying but you loved every moment of it.

You: This new camisole I got and my underwear. Nothing sexy, trust me.

Kate: Show me

You tried finding the best angle to take the photo, even standing to try and take a mirror pic but failing. You cursed to yourself and sat back down to where you were before, bringing your phone above your body and leaning it downward to take the picture. You sent it without looking back and saw the ‘read’ signal pop up. She was typing, and then it went away. The way she had this power over you shocked you immensely, why did you care so much about a girl who could sing? Maybe it was because she paid attention to you, something your husband for the life of him couldn’t do. Or maybe it was the exciting part of it. Your whole life was always a bore, but today had to have been the most exciting day in your nearly forty years of living.

Kate: Fuck youre so hot

You smiled to yourself and took another photo, this time including your face in the mix.

Kate: Baby youre killin me here

She sent a photo a second later, stating it took a minute to load before you were able to see it. You whimpered when seeing her under a blanket, clear signs of her wearing nothing underneath. Her leg was sticking out enough to be able to see that there was no underwear or shorts on. Her shoulders were exposed and you could almost see the top of her breasts from the angle. Her hair was sprawled out across the pillow beneath her head, her chin being the only part of her face you could see.

Before you could respond, another photo made its way to you. Her leg that was sticking out had her hand now resting on it, on the top of her inner thigh. Her pinky finger was just able to be seen as it mostly went under the blanket. She was so close to touching her core that even you were on edge and waiting for more.

Kate: I guess ur regretting not coming over now huh

You: I really wish I could’ve, trust me, I do.

Kate: Then why don’t u? Ur husband is prob dead asleep and would never know

Before you could answer, she was already typing out yet another response.

Kate: And r u just gonna leave me like this? Im so wet for you baby girl

Kate: U don’t know how badly I wanted to fuck u back at the pub

Kate: I can’t stop thinking bout it

Kate: U wanna know smth?

You quickly looked up the meaning of her slang word before answering, still watching the bed with a close eye for any movement.

You: What is it?

Kate: Ive been touching myself this whole time

You groaned to yourself, the wetness you fought so hard to relieve only coming back even worse.

Kate: Idk what if is about u but ur just so fucking sexy

Kate: Ive always been into older women but ur just different

Kate: In the best fucking way

You: I appreciate the compliment, baby.

Kate: I wanna hear u say that to me

Kate: I bet it sounds so hot coming from ur mouth

Your fingers somehow found their way back inside of your already-drenched panties. Your sore clit was rubbed in circles as you bucked your hips up to meet yourself halfway.

“Oh, fuck!” You mumbled under your breath, trying your best to cover your mouth but failing in the process.

You grabbed your phone, pressing the camera icon and pointing it to where your hand was almost hidden. You debated sending it, although you now knew she was doing the same so, what was the shame in it?

Kate: U alone?

You: Yeah, I’m in the bathroom and my husband is in the next room, but he won’t be waking up anytime soon.

You waited for a text, but instead, the screen lit up with a call. It wasn’t FaceTime so you wouldn’t be able to see her, but your mind already had enough pictures of her.

“You there, baby?” You hummed as an answer, afraid that if you were to speak, you’d end up gambling your words. Your breath was heavy, practically a pant by now.

“You sound so hot, fuck, you’re going to make me cum.” She bit her lip, her breath the same as yours as she rode her fingers. She had two inside of herself and she couldn’t help but think of how the night would’ve gone if you were there with her. For now, she’d have to stick to her fantasies. But soon enough, she’d have you. And she’d make you hers for good, no matter what that pity of a husband thought of it.

“I’m so close, I’m so close!” You whined, your wetness loud enough for Kate on the other end to hear. It only helped bring her closer to the edge as her coil tightened.

“Cum with me, Y/N.” It was in a low, cracked tone, but you could hear it. You followed her orders and exploded on your fingers, slumping even further against the wall when you heard her reach her peak as well.

“Can I tell you something, Kate?” You mimicked her earlier text with a grin, already picturing the type of effect it’d have on her when hearing what was to follow.

“Hm?”

“That wasn’t the first time this night that I touched myself thinking of you.” You hung up before she could answer, leaving her dumbfounded on her bed.

You lied in bed and that’s when everything hit you. Your husband, who slept near inches away from you, could’ve heard the way you came for another woman. Your orgasms with him weren’t nearly as good and you hadn’t even been touched by her yet, you could only imagine what that’d be like.

Tears threatened to spill as the realization came crashing down; you cheated. You were a cheater, and that would forever haunt you, you already knew it.

The rest of the weekend was mostly a blur, all that you did remember was Saturday night, dinner with the Wilsons. Sam was a kind man, tall, smart, and very handsome. He and his wife seemed to get along well, but so did you and Steve to the public eye. They had two children, one was turning sixteen while the other had just turned nine.

“You alright there, Y/N? You’ve been extra quiet tonight.” The whole table turned to look your way, the newfound attention leaving you slightly embarrassed. You waved them off and luckily, they listened. Truth be told, you didn’t want the liquor they were offering, you wanted the coffee from the shop. More like you wanted an excuse to go, that way you could see Kate again. You hoped it wouldn’t be awkward after the night before, the thought alone making you clench your thighs.

You excused yourself to the bathroom, bringing your phone with you and, right when you closed the door, pulling it out. You went to your contacts list and opened the text icon, typing a quick ‘I miss you.’ to Kate before you could regret it. But you already did. Fuck, you could already see her, laughing at the text with a different girl she brought home. You weren’t doubting her, per se, but she had mentioned before how she’s a ladies' lady, often attracting anyone she wanted into her arms, or even her bed.

A ding brought you out of your disturbance and you looked down, your hopes of it being Kate soon fulfilled as you read the text.

Kate: Come see me then

You: I’m at dinner, but I just needed to talk to you.

You weren’t able to see it, but she was secretly smiling at the messages. She had never been one for relationships, often opting for hookups instead. And when they wanted to be with her, she’d either block them and never speak to them again or say yes, but never actually planning to be anything more than friends with benefits in her mind. She was a heartbreaker, of course, she was. She was destined from birth to have a good time, and how could you have fun with just one person?

Kate: I’m at work rn but I’d way rather be with you

You: You’ve barely even known me for more than a few days, why so interested?

Kate: I could say the same bout u Y/N

Touche. She had you beat at your own game.

There was a knock erupting on the door, making you jump in fright. You were so distracted texting her that you didn’t realize it had been about eight minutes of you just standing in the bathroom. Walking back into the dining table was a bit awkward when everyone knew where you came from, it wasn’t exactly the best place to be hiding for so long.

“So, Y/N,” Sam started, drawing your attention back to him. “Steve said you and him had been talking about having children lately, and we just wanted to say congratulations and we wish you the best of luck in the process. Trust me, I know how long those things can take.” The rest of the table let out half-hearted laughs that you didn’t return. You looked at him with furrowed brows, shaking your head slowly.

“What do you mean? I and Steve haven’t discussed children-” You felt a small tap to your thigh and looked over to see your husband with a deceiving smile. It was clear he had been telling a lie to everyone while you were gone, but you weren’t going to stand for it. You had made it clear that having children would most likely not be an option for you two in the future, and each time he denied it, saying you’d come to your senses soon and that you were the only ones in the town your age without kids, that you were starting to get too old to push the thought away.

“What she means is, thank you for your support-”

“No, what I mean is we’re not having children, Steven.” You could sense the tension around the table as everyone looked at you two for another move. He sighed deeply, grabbing his things along with yours and having you both say your goodbyes to everyone. He gripped your wrist with certainty and practically dragged you to the car, not even caring to open the door for you as he got into his side.

The whole ride was full of silence, so thought it was best to finally be able to respond to Kate after you had left her in the bathroom.

You: Hey, sorry about the wait, someone knocked on the door and I had to go back to the table with the others. Xx

You added the Xs in hopes they’d show off a sense of regret and sorrow for not answering sooner. But she didn’t seem to mind as she answered back in an instant.

Kate: Hey baby I was starting to think u ditched me

You: I’m sorry, love, I had an argument with Steve at the table. Now we’re headed home and I wanted to talk to you before, well, we argue more.

Kate: Who’s Steve?

You must’ve forgotten to mention his name to her in the time you spent getting to know one another. You were slightly worried about the fact that you had a husband, not so much about the cheating aspect but about how Kate must feel. Does it turn her on knowing that she’s taking you away from him? That she’s now considered a homewrecker? Maybe she didn’t like the thought. But she also did seem pretty into it last night on the phone. Whatever she felt, she was good at hiding it.

You: My husband.

Kate: Oh so he’s the asshole?

You chuckled quietly to yourself, afraid to make too much noise when he was sitting right there. You didn’t want him to question you, so you turned the brightness of your phone down in case he looked in the window. And you turned at a perfect angle to which he couldn’t see your phone but he also wouldn’t notice you acting secretive.

You: He’s not an asshole, Kate, he struggles with his own issues and I help him with that.

Kate: He seems like an asshole to me especially since he took u away from me

You: We met eleven years ago, if anything you’re taking me away from him.

Kate: And is that such a bad thing?

You: Of course not, I prefer you way more than I do him.

Before you could look to see what she had said back, Steve was already trying to catch your attention.

“Can you get off that damn phone for one second, Y/N?” You hummed and did so slowly, unbuckling your seatbelt as quickly as possible when you saw that you had arrived home. He tried to stop you, but you were already gone.

Once the door opened and closed behind him, he took off his suit jacket before turning to you. You stood in the kitchen, pot in hand as you poured a cup of tea for yourself.

“If you’re expecting me to apologize, don’t.” He rested his hands on his hips and clenched his jaw. You suddenly remembered all the times you had gone to Wanda, explaining how attractive he was when he looked mad. Now, you hated more than anything to see him this way. You hated seeing him in general.

“Oh, I do. You think you can go over there and embarrass me like that in front of all of my friends and expect me to be okay with it?”

“And you expect me to sit there, listening to your agitating rants about how busy your work life is, how hard it is for you, and how badly you wish you could quit? Then fucking do it already! And do you expect me to sit there while you make up lies about us having kids when I deliberately told you I don’t want them? God, why can’t you just respect my choice? You’re not the one carrying the child, I am!”

“I want a child, Y/N. This could help me with my addiction, it could even help with us and our marriage.” He tried reasoning with you, but you stood your ground.

“I’m not going to bear a child just because you think it could help you, what about me? What about what I want, Steven?”

“What you want is what’s best for us, and for our family.”

“There is no family, Steve, it’s us. It’s me and you, a marriage, that’s all.” He ran his hands through his hair and, without another word, he walked his way up the stairs and into the bedroom. You took this as your chance to see what Kate had written earlier today.

Kate: Oh really?

You: Yeah. I want to see you this week, how about Monday? I’ll stop by your work and I could even pick you up if you’d like.

You set your phone down and drank the cup of tea in your hands, sighing contently. Even if you had just had a disagreement and shamed yourself in front of your friends and his, things felt okay. You had a feeling that if Kate said yes, you’d be looking forward to that day until it came.

Kate: That sounds perfect. My shift starts at 7 and ends at 4 wbu?

You, once again, found yourself looking up the meaning of her slang, it was most likely just a young person thing. Once you got your result, you reopened her and your messages and wrote out;

You: I’ll be done around 6 PM. Although, I do start at 11 AM, maybe I can stop by your work?

Kate: That sounds great baby girl. See you Monday?

You: Yeah, I’ll be looking forward to it!

You changed her contact name, adding a little heart at the end with a smile. You feared what would happen if your husband saw your phone, and saw any notification from someone with a red heart next to their name. He didn’t even have one, to anyone else his caller ID seemed like it must’ve been a friend, not the person you married.

You entered your room, leaning against the door to let out a sigh before walking to the bathroom. You felt the cold marble under your hands as you leaned over the sink, spitting the toothpaste out of your mouth before rinsing off. When you lied back in bed, lifting the blanket over your body, your husband turned to coddle you. His arms went around your waist and his front rubbed against yours.

“I’m sorry, love, I shouldn’t have forced you like I did. You think I can try and make it up to you?” His dick poked at your backside and you grinned, turning your head to see his now perfectly above yours. His lips pressed against your own, his hands wandering down your frame and stopping at the waistline of your shorts. He pulled them down slowly, his breath a dark, deep shake.

“Your skin feels so soft, so perfect you are.” His cock throbbed with need, a need to return to its true home. Not tucked away in his clothes, but deep inside your cunt, just like he wanted.

“I wanna fucking ravish you, love.” You ran your hand down to his now freed length, stroking him gently as your other went to rub your clit. No matter how badly you were trying to keep your train of thought on him, on your partner, you couldn’t stop thinking about Kate. When you came just picturing her, and once more just from her voice. Steve, while he was an animal in bed, had never once made you feel as hot and bothered as you did from Kate. Even in the little time you knew her and the years you knew him, there was such a difference.

Monday came by surprisingly quickly and you were ecstatic. Kate was too, she had been texting you all morning when she was supposed to be working. You lectured her playfully, and she got a serious lecture from her boss in return.

“What would you like to drink?” The man asked you bluntly, all manners of his being thrown away as his clear exhaustion showed. You gave him a small smile, asking for the lady in the back. He sighed heavily with exaggeration, yelling into the back and soon after you saw the young girl rushing out. She looked annoyed, that was until she saw you. Her face lit up, a quirk of her lips showing as she hurried over to you, rushing out a ‘going on break!’ to her boss and dragging you to the back. There was a small room, but it was more like a closet. You guessed it was a storage unit of sorts, but you didn’t have time to question it as she pushed you against the wall.

“Oh, Katey.” You hummed into her mouth, her lips loosely against yours. She leaned back, biting her lip and staring at you through hooded eyes.

“That’s new, I like it.” You groaned when her lips were placed on your neck, her teeth grazing over the skin ever so lightly. She stopped, looking up at you with a slightly clenched jaw. It was hard to notice, but you picked up on it. You were a therapist, after all, you noticed everything.

“What’s this?” She traced her fingertip over the mark on your neck that you failed to cover up. Foundation was put over it, but she still saw through it, saw through you.

“Uh, nothing.”

“Don’t lie to me, baby girl.” Her fingers rested under your chin, pulling your face up higher so you’d look her in the eyes. She wasn’t some, stupid, naive little girl, she knew what it was, but she was jealous it wasn’t her marks.

“This from your husband?” You nodded with a gulp of fear mixed with lust. She scoffed, licking over the spot and sucking firmly. She was intending to make her own hickeys, whether you wanted them or not.

“Kate, I…slow down a bit, okay?”

“Or what? You gonna punish me?” Your eyes fluttered shut as her hand swept down your body in no time, slipping past the entryway of your pants and into your panties.

“You gonna, tie me up? Fuck me however long you want, not caring for one second about your little Katey’s pleasure, hm?” She was practically speaking to herself as you humped her palm that was rubbing deliciously against your clit. Two of her fingers prodded at your hole and suddenly the remembrance of Friday night came flooding back in. When you had your fingers deep inside of you, pumping in and out of your hole because she had gotten you so wet, so needy. She had this effect on you that you didn’t quite understand, but you loved the chase of it all.

“You’re so wet, baby girl, this all for me?” You nodded your head. “Yeah? Did you greet your husband this morning knowing you were going to get fucked in the supply closet at my work? God, you’re such a slut. How are you going to face him now? Knowing that I’ve fucked you better than he ever has.” Her nose flared in anger, her head tossing back as she humped your thigh that stood out. You were both chasing one another’s highs at this point, and it was so exhilarating.

“Oh, baby, I’m going to cum.” You whimpered into her shoulder, your head now resting on it as a way to feel closer to her.

“I know you are, and that’s the best part.” Your eyes squeezed shut tightly, your lip being bitten into by your teeth.

“Fuck! Fuck, you’ve ruined me.” While the words seemed harsh, she couldn’t help but smile in satisfaction. No time spent with other girls had ever equaled to you, she wondered if it was due to your age. While she was the outgoing type, the type you’d usually see in kids her age, she had always been mature for her age. And for some reason, she had always been drawn to older women like yourself. She blamed most of it on the abandonment her mother often gave her from a young age, or the lack of love that made her have a deep desire to be cherished by someone like you.

“You know, I’ve always been, like, so drawn to older women. In eighth grade, I had the biggest crush on my history teacher. I’d roam the halls just to see her, and I’d skip class just to think about her more, and I would just hope that every time I got detention, she’d be the one watching me. You feel like that. It- I don’t know how to explain it but you just feel like that, like that excitement of having a middle school crush and all your friends would embarrass you or make fun of you for it. You just feel so fun yet calming at the same time. Is that weird?”

“No, I don’t think so. I’ve never been with a woman before if I’m being honest, although if I was, my husband would have probably asked me for a threesome already. I don’t know how, and I don’t know why, but I’m so attracted to you. And it’s not just because you’re so unbelievably attractive, but you’re just so exciting and refreshing, I feel like a teenager again.” Your foreheads were resting against each other’s as you leaned in for a kiss, brushing your lips gently over hers so she’d make the first move, which she did. The two of you progressed into a sloppy makeout with tongues and teeth clashing together, your noses often hitting softly. That was until someone came pounding on the door, demanding that Kate needed to return to her shift as she was way overdue.

“Well, when can I see you again?”

“I don’t know, maybe sometime-”

“I want you to come to my place.” She interrupted, not seeming to care for her coworker waiting outside the door.

“W-what?”

“C’mon, it’ll be fun! You could even spend the night, just like we talked about on the phone.” It was more of a question than an offer, you could hear the slight fear in her voice. You didn’t know what she had to be afraid of, especially when she was with you, in your arms. You raised your hand to her cheek, stroking the skin softly and pecking her lips once more.

“We’ll talk about it more later, alright?” She nodded and, due to her pal's request, returned to where she had to be, tugging the apron back onto her body and walking out of the small hallway in the back. You followed after a moment, keeping your head down in hopes no one would be able to pick up on what just happened.

“Y/N? Is that you?” You heard from the customer’s side of the register. You stopped in your tracks, slowly raising and turning your head to see who it was, hoping it wasn’t anyone you knew too well.

Wanda. Fuck. The suspicion was obvious in her tone but you didn’t blame her, if you had seen her walking out of a no-customers-allowed break room after a woman just left before you, you’d have questions.

She walked over to you, but you were rushing out of the store before she could meet you. She called your name, but you didn’t look back. Kate sighed, hiding her face from the other woman as she watched you leave.

“That lady that just left…why was she back there with you?” She asked Kate, placing her hands on the counter and leaning in close enough to whisper. Your mistress shrugged without thought, writing the name on the cup before continuing.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about…Wanda.” She read from the cup and walked to the back to continue brewing the coffee. She pulled out her phone quickly, pressing on your contact and typing out a quick message.

Kate <3: Wanda huh? U got another hoe Idk about?

You: Haha, very funny, Kate.

You entered your office with a deep sigh, the events from earlier still looming in your mind. You were still in such a need for her, you’ve never been so wet.

You walked over to your desk and opened the notebook in hand, trying to distract yourself from the soak in your panties. You could barely focus, there was sweat dripping on your forehead and you had to remove your reading glasses, hands gripping the desk as you tried taking deep breaths. It was so hard not to think about the things you had just done not even an hour ago, and how her fingers felt so well sliding against your walls.

The knock on the door interrupted your brain's fast thinking, but you were grateful. If you didn’t stop, you would’ve been caught grinding against your chair or fingering yourself in hopes that it would feel just as good as Kate's.

“Hey.”

“Hi.” Wanda stood there awkwardly before sitting down on the couch, placing her coffee on the table in front of her and leaning back, her hands clasping together and resting on her knee.

“So, are we going to talk about earlier?” You played dumb in hopes she’d let it go and not mention it anymore.

“What about earlier?”

“Oh, c’mon, Y/N, you’re really going to act like I didn’t see you at the cafe down the street? And not to mention, the way you walked out of the back after another woman?” She took a moment before continuing her words, “Are you- are you having an affair?” You stopped in your steps, the same way you did earlier.

“Wanda, I’m going to need to excuse you from my office, I have a patient.” You opened the door for her and, before she could say anything more, you were closing the door in her face. You hated hearing it, that you being with another woman while still coming home to your partner and acting like it never happened was the definition of having an affair. You wiped the tears before they could arise and called in your patient, trying your best to listen and sympathize as if you weren’t dying inside.

The week went by slowly, painfully slowly. You and Kate had planned to meet Friday night, and it was that night. You haven’t seen her since, but you haven’t been able to stop yourself from texting her nonstop. She didn’t mind though, if anything, she was as obsessed as you.

You two had called twice, it didn’t feel like enough but hearing her voice eased you better than anyone.

Before you could leave and see Kate, you had one more patient. You weren’t exactly dreading it, Yelena was always a sweetheart and you’d never complain about seeing her, but you so desperately needed to touch Kate again.

“So, Yelena, did you complete your homework for the week?” She nodded proudly, and you loved to see it. You smiled, rubbing her knee and thigh softly. She craved the comfort from you, the motherly acts you gave her that she wished to receive from her own.

“That’s great! Here,” You put your hand in the air and she gave you the high-five you were asking for.

“I…well, I cut off contacts with her, but I just was really struggling to press delete for her contact.” You nodded understandably and let a hum escape your lips.

“Alright, I understand. It’s not easy to let go of things you had a connection to, especially when going back on your older self who never thought something like this would happen, where you’d lose the one person you started to love and trust.”

“But I don’t understand why I loved her so much. We, uh, we slept together a few times and went on a few dates, but I could tell she was uninterested in the thought of anything more than sex. She didn’t even love me, but I was practically obsessed with her and I hate myself so much for it, you know?” You handed her a tissue from the box on the table which she accepted with a small ‘thank you’.

“We don’t choose who we love, Yelena. We choose who we keep, and you wanted to keep her, but trust me when I say this, this girl, is not worth ruining yourself over. If she truly cared about you, she’d be fighting for you the way you did for her.” She knew you were right, but it was never easy to let go of someone who had this much of a hold on you. You knew it too, Kate already had a certain hold on you that you couldn’t remove no matter how hard you tried.

“Y/N,” She asked, now at the end of your one hour together. “I was wondering if you could help me do the honors of deleting her number completely.” You agreed and once she gave you her phone, you pressed the contact she gave you. Your eyebrows furrowed at the name and picture, your eyes then following as they widened.

“Shit.” You muttered under your breath and nearly dropped the phone if it wasn’t for your other hand being there. Yelena looked at you weirdly, but you shook it off as cramps.

“S-so, you want me to delete her contact? Like, permanently?” She nodded and her leg bounced nervously. Her hand came to her mouth as she bit her nails, rocking back and forth as she watched you hesitantly press delete. It felt like you were deleting her from your life, but it only made it worse knowing you were seeing your client's ex. Well, if it was even counted as an ex.

“Uhm, I’ll see you next week then?” You said your goodbyes and rushed out nearly as fast as her. You drove with speed, your fingertips bouncing on the driver's wheel anxiously, you were doing all the bad habits you helped others grow out of. Kate was texting you repeatedly, but you couldn’t bring yourself to respond.

When you knocked on the door to the apartment at the address she had given you, it took only ten seconds for her to answer. She was about to say her greetings, until you pushed past her abruptly and walked back and forth in the room.

“Woah, woah, what’s wrong, love?”

“Don’t call me ‘love’, Kate.” She waited for you to stop pacing before approaching you. Tears were streaming down your face and she wiped them against your will.

“Now, are you going to tell me what’s going on or am I gonna have to guess?” When you stayed silent, she sighed heavily.

“You don’t answer any of my texts ‘till I start to think you’re going to ditch me here and then you come bursting in crying, and now you’re refusing to let me in so, please, just tell me what the fuck is going on, Y/N.” She loosely held onto your arms and searched your face for any sign but you gave none.

“I had a client come in today, one of my regulars. She’s been going for about a year-and-a-half now, she’s become like a daughter to me.” You were struggling to finish your sentence. She had led you to the couch now, and she was listening closely as you spoke. She was listening, and that was all you were asking for.

“Her name is Yelena Belova.” You saw the gears switch in her head as she leaned back, letting out a deep breath and resting her head in her hands.

“Fuck.”

“Yeah, fuck.” You both sat in silence awkwardly, trying to figure out what to say or do in this situation. She suddenly stood up, your eyes watching her body as she walked to the kitchen. She grabbed a bottle of liquor that you couldn’t quite make out from the cabinet and poured the drink in two red, party cups. She walked back to where you sat, handing you the cup and downing hers in one go.

“Are we going to talk about this?”

“What is there to talk about?” You looked at her, then your drink, and then back at her. She leaned down to your level, holding your chin and parting your mouth, grabbing your cup and slowly pouring the substance into your dry mouth. You closed your eyes, basking in the hard taste.

“There we go, good girl, sweetheart.” Her lip quirked up at the way your legs ever so slightly clenched together, almost invisible to anothers’ eye, but she picked up on everything about you. “I thought that was my nickname for you, sweetheart.” You teased her words, seeming to let go of the tense aroma you walked in with. You still weren’t fully relaxed, but the alcohol with a side of Kate helped ease you just a bit.

“Can’t I call you whatever I want? After all, you are mine, right?” She straddled your lap, her arms going around the back of your neck as she leaned in, brushing her lips against yours in a way that had you begging for more. She pecked you gently, but only once, she wanted you to fight for her touch.

“I’m all yours, Katey.” You gulped, feeling her fingertips playing with the hairs on the back of your neck and causing goosebumps to arise to the surface.

“Fuck, I love when you call me that.” You felt her hips start a slow rock on your thighs and rested your palms on her own, trying to guide her. She let you. She let you help guide her to an orgasm, hoping it would be as intense as the other day. She rolled her head back, exposing her neck to the only person in the apartment besides her, you. Your lips found place on the skin, trying your best to leave marks just like she had wished to do to you. She moaned, and the sound alone almost made you cum.

“Does that feel good, Katey?” You heard her, once again, growl at the nickname and smiled, realizing the effect you had on her.

“So good, mommy.” You paused for a moment and soaked in her words, but she didn’t seem to notice as she focused on the pleasure pooling in her panties. While in shock, you had accidently bitten down on her skin, hard. She moaned even louder, and, while you always had a suspicion she was into harsher treatment during sex, you never expected that.

“Oh God, I’m gonna-” She was cut off by her orgasm that came crashing down on her, leaving her body to still momentarily. You admired her body, the marks of your love that were starting to turn purple, the wetness residue on her panties, her blown out face, and her flawless hair. You had an obsession with it, it was just so perfectly silky and had just the right amount of curls to go with the straigtness that was her hair.

“That’s it, cum for mommy.” You played along, watching as her eyes trailed to your own and her lip was taken between her teeth. Your digits toyed with the button to her gray jeans, undoing it slowly and dipping your hand into her undergarments, teasing her clit just enough to get a whine out of her and grabbing her juices on your fingertips. You ran them over her mouth before she parted them, sucking your fingers as if her life depended on it.

“You’re so pretty, Kate..” She smiled around your digits, running her hands down your body and finding your breasts.

“You wanna come to bed with me, baby girl?” You nodded and she quickly got off your waist, dragging you along as she walked backwards to her open bedroom that was only covered by sheets hanging from the ceiling. She kept her hands interlaced with yours, your feet nearly tripping from hers as she landed on the bed with a soft thud, you following soon after her. Her hands continued to roam your body and found your breasts once more. You looked down at her, smiling at the way she seemed completely absorbed by you.

“Take this off…please.” She said, motioning to your shirt. You chuckled, leaning back to do as she said, hearing her breath fall short when seeing you in just a lacy bra.

“You like it?” She nodded. “Good, I wore it just for you.” As badly as she wanted to see your bare tits, she also loved the clothing that you wore just for her. It made her shutter knowing that you woke up this morning and searched through the best clothes, all for her. She could only imagine what was under your dress pants.

“If I’m taking off mine, you need to take off yours.” She quickly took discarded her shirt, tossing it somewhere on the floor and smirking to herself when she noticed your hand close to your crotch.

“You need some help with that?” You breathlessly nodded and, in an instant, she undid your bottoms, leaving you almost completely naked. You guessed her fast and effortless moves were from the many girls she had been with, but knowing you were the only one she wanted to truly keep made your heart warm.

“You’re so beautiful, Y/N.” You could hear the truthfulness in her tone, and it could’ve nearly made you cry. No matter how many times you were complimented for your well-put looks, none of them meant as much to you as hers.

You unclasped your bra, letting her see you in full glory. You were nervous, she had never seen you entirely bare, but you wanted to fully give yourself to her, she deserved that and so did you.

“Katey, I-” You paused, the fear of her judgement filling your mind.

“Go on, baby.”

“I…I want to ride your face.” Your worries only gre with her silence, but they were instantly forgotten when she had started tugging your body forward to rest on top of her face, just like you wanted. But you could tell she wanted it even more than you.

“You won’t hurt me, baby girl, I want this.” You nodded and sunk down onto her, sighing in pleasure as her tongue immediately started lapping at your folds. She was like a starved animal with the way she ate you out, leaving no room for complaints on your end. She moaned at your taste and it shot vibrations through you. You gripped the headboard with one hand, the other playing with her soft hair. The need was too great, and your hips had a mind of their own as you started grinding on her tongue. She kept it in place, letting you take control without care of the pains in her jaw she would receive later on.

“Yeah, let mommy ride that cute fucking face!” Her hips seemed to also have a mind of their own as they started bucking up, her cunt clenching around nothing as your’s clenched around her mouth. Her fingers trailed down to her hole, slipping in with ease as she fucked herself to your sounds. It made her wetter than you could ever imagine, and you internally thanked the neighbor who took a vacation, it would’ve been beyond embarrasing if they heard how loud you two were being. She had probably gotten complaints from others before about the noise, but your mind wasn’t even able to process that thought as the only thing invading it was her. Your girl. Your Kate.

“Oh, Katey, mommy’s gonna cum in that slutty mouth of yours.” You grinned to yourself, letting your hands yank her head into place. You knew she loved the way you spoke along with the way you pulled her hair, she was just a kinky little fuck.

“Shit! I’m cumming, baby!” You practically yelled as the coil in your stomach snapped, causing her face to be coated in your juices. Her tongue continued to lap up any of you that tried to get away, she was greedy for your taste.

Only moments later and you were on your knees sprawled out on the bed, watching as Kate attatched the harness to her waist. She smiled in victory when she did and grabbed something from the closet, hiding it behind her bacn as she slowly trailed back to you.

“So, I was wondering if we could try a little something tonight.” You were worried to hear what it was going to be, but when you saw handcuffs being placed next to your body it eased into excitement.

“Who exactly is going to be the one getting handcuffed?” Without responding she latched them both around your wrists, keeping your hands behind your back and smirking when realizing you were completely at her mercy.

“Wish I could just, take a picture of you like this. Maybe I’d send it to your husband, or your friend, make them realize how much of a slut you are for someone you just met.” She cupped open your mouth, spitting onto your tongue and making you keep it there until drool was rolling down your chin. She grabbed her polaroid camera, snapping the picture of you and letting it rest to dry. She turned you around, giving a few smacks to your ass and snapping another picture, capturing the red hand print.

“I can’t decide whether I want to gag you and make you drool like a brainless slut while I fuck you, or if I want to hear those pretty little moans of yours.” Her strap teased your ass, her fingers playing with your clit and making it difficult to speak. You whined when her tip eased into your tightest hole, only for her to pull out right after.

“We’ll save that for another day. But right now, I wanna fuck this precious pussy.” She eased into you once again, this time not pulling out as your warm walls wrapped around her and tried to force her to stay in place, missing the feeling of being full but needing the feeling of being filled by her even more.

“God, you’re so fucking tight. I wish I had a real dick, then I’d never pull out.” Her tongue licked a stripe up your neck before she left multiple kisses like you had done to her earlier one, only this time she was the one making you cum. Her lips trailed down to your shoulder, leaving a shiver to traven down your spine.

“Awh, does mommy like being fucked like a whore?” Her thrusts started hard, giving you barely any time to get used to her size. It made you whimper seeing her have no mercy, yanking your hair back and making you rest your head in the nape of her neck. Her lips sloppily connected with yours, her tongue playing with your own as she could taste the alcohol on your breath, she knew hers was the same.

She suddenly disconnected herself from you, pushing you to lay flat on the bed as she got on top of you, straddling your back thighs and thrusting herself back into you. The strap rubbed delightfully against her clit and had you yearning for more. The camera that was sat close to you on the pillow was suddenly pulled into her grasp. She aimed it to your face, resting hers next to you and getting the perfect shot of the mascara running down your face along with the beads of sweat dripping down her chin. The lack of AC wasn’t helping her overheating problem, but it only made the sex that much hotter.

“Ah! Kate, I-” She didn’t let you finish before she was speaking, overrulling your voice with her own.

“Does Steve fuck you like this? Can his tiny dick ever come close to mine?” You shook your head quickly, your knuckles turning white as you gripped the bed sheets with all of your might.

“My little whore, you are. You think you could ever be a mommy, hm? I don’t think mommy’s get tied up and fucked by their little girls, you agree?” Her harsh words were turning you on more than you’d like to admit, and she noticed. She could feel the wetness seeping onto your thighs.

“Oh, you disgusting little bitch. You fucking disgust me, Y/N.” She tugged on your hair once more, pulling your face back so she could whisper into your ear. Her mouth enclosed on your earlobe and your legs shook from her statement alone.

“You’re gonna cum already? Fuck, you’re a needy little thing, aren’t ‘ya!” Your orgasm was shortlived as she was already trying to pull another one out of you. You were gasping for air, only for your mouth to be filled by her fingers. Her nails were painted black and her rings were still on.

“You’re so fucking annoying with those pathetic whines, you think anyone’s gonna want to hear that shit? You’re lucky I’m even touching you right now, you dirty slut, I could be fucking anyone else but instead I’m listening to your whining.” Your hips were nearly bruising with her harsh pace, but that wasn’t stopping her.

“We’re not stopping until I’ve had my fill, baby girl.” If she had enough money, she would’ve bought a cum-filled strap-on so she could watch it pool out of you. The thought alone was what tipped her over the edge and caused you to release once again. You both came together, her free arm holding your body close to hers in order to feel you. Her lipstick was spread across different areas of your body and now smudged on her mouth. Your makeup was ruined and painted down your face. The marks that you had previously asked Kate not to give you were shining in the dim light of her room, and without even seeing them, you knew they were bad.

“Thank you for coming over, baby.” She undid you handcuffs after pulling out of you, tossing the toys at the end of the bed and pulling you into her, kissing you hard with no room to dissapoint.

“Mommy, huh?”

“It was the heat of the moment.” You both chuckled, your foreheads still resting together as she laid you down. You were both too tired for aftercare, but she promised you she’d do it in the morning. But you hesitated.

“You’re staying the night..right?” You sighed and refused to make eye contact with her, knowing that if you saw the hopefulness on her face it would only make it harder to deny her. But you made the mistake of looking, noticing the growing pout on her lips that made it impossible to resist her.

“I’ll call Steve, tell him I had some work business and was too tired to come home and am staying at Wanda’s.” She smiled, bigger than you’ve ever seen her smile, and hugged you tightly in fear of waking up with you gone. You knew you were in deep shit if you continued this, but you had always told your clients that there were times they’d have to put themsleves first, and this was one of them.

:))

[angel2el]

Blackened Haze (Elvis Presley) - PART ONE -- "Sunset"

My gosh I'm so excited to share this with you all. It's a story that explores a possibility where a reader, Elvis's longtime girlfriend, is there to help him through his mother's death and work towards happiness and peace. This is a bit sad at first. I will say I felt a little solemn at times. But I am proud of it and I love it and I hope you all do too. I love you all so, so much. I do not have a taglist but if you would like me to tag you at the next parts I will. The colonel is mentioned but is not a villain due to the fact that at this point, he and Elvis had good relations.

“I came as soon as I heard you were here,” you say softly as you enter the hospital’s private waiting room Elvis is in.  He’s sitting on the blue couch with his elbows on his knees and his head in his hands when you first walk in, but he lifts his head up when he hears your voice.

“Hi, honey,” he says, voice raspy and weak, waving his hand for you to come over.  You approach him and set your flowers on the table in front of you two before sitting down.

“How is she?” You ask.  His mother was admitted three days ago, and he’d arrived around twelve hours ago.   It’s 4 in the morning now and Elvis doesn’t look like he’s slept a wink yet.  You put a hand on his forehead to brush his hair out of his face.  He doesn’t look like he’s been crying, but he’s pale and his eyes are bloodshot from a lack of sleep.

“They haven’t told me nothing,” he says.  His voice is still low and glum.  You move your hand to his cheek.

“Have you slept at all?” You ask, moving your thumb up and down his cheek.

“Not yet,” he says.

“Lay your head on my lap and try to sleep some,” you say, scooting away so he has enough room to lay down.

“I..I can’t.  What if somethin’ happens to her while I’m asleep?” he asks, rubbing his eyes.

“I’ll wake you up if anything happens.  I promise,” you say.  “You need to get some sleep or you’ll barely be able to make it through tomorrow.”  You put your hand on his waist and gently start to ease him down.  He hesitates at first, but eventually complies, resting his head on your lap.  “Just relax,” you say, putting a hand on his shoulder.  You feel his body heave with a shaky sigh.  You can feel his nerves, how hot he is from the stress, the cold sweat on the back of his neck.  He can’t even be with his mother right now because Vernon is with her.  That must be the hardest part.  She’s everything to him.

You can’t imagine what life would be like without her.  You both know she’s very, very sick.  But your heart won’t let you think about losing the sweet, loving woman who welcomed you with open arms into their home when you and Elvis first started dating, and again welcomed you into Graceland when you moved in.  The woman who always cared for you, and more importantly, for Elvis.  She’s his best friend.  The person he’s closest to in the whole world.  He wouldn’t be able to go on without her.

You calm yourself out of the thoughts of losing her by closing your eyes and rubbing his shoulder up and down, trying to think more positive thoughts.  Gladys is going to live.  She’s going to get better.  You blink slowly, tiredly as you keep your touch on him, feeling him start to fall asleep.  He’s exhausted.  He may have been up for over 24 hours at this point, considering he’d been in the car most of yesterday, stressing about Gladys.  Your chest aches with sympathy at the thought of his suffering over the last few days.  Luckily, he’d been granted leave from army training to see his mother.  But that didn’t do much to ease the fear and pain.  You look at his hands, which were shaking slightly.  His nails are bitten down well below his nailbeds, a nervous habit he’d developed as a teen.  You hear him sigh softly.  He was asleep now.  Thank goodness.  You lean your own head back and close your eyes, letting your breathing slow.  You hadn’t been up nearly as long as Elvis, but you’d barely been able to sleep these past few days knowing Gladys was suffering and Elvis was too.  A call had come at 3am this morning telling you Elvis was at the hospital now and had been for eleven hours, so you drove as fast as you could to the hospital to meet him.  Exhaustion and fear wracked your mind, just like him.  For Gladys, and for Elvis.  You put a hand on your forehead and try to calm yourself.  Gladys was going to live.  Everything was going to be okay.  You keep repeating that until deep, dreamless sleep welcomes you.

When you wake up to the waiting room’s door opening, Elvis is still in your lap.  You can tell it's been a long time because you’re absolutely starving.  You put your hand on his head and pat it as you watch a nurse with a tray of food approach the two of you.  Elvis shifts, slowly sitting up and rubbing his eyes.

“Honey?” he says, turning to you.

“I’m here.”  Your hand goes to his shoulder.

The nurse sets down a tray with two bowls of oatmeal in front of you, pushing your pink flowers – Gladys’ favorite color – aside.  “You two need to eat something.  Haven’t had a bite since you arrived,” she says sweetly.

“Is there any news?” Elvis asks.

The nurse shakes her head.  “I’m not your mama’s nurse, Mr. Presley.  I just got assigned to bring you food.  I don’t know anything.”

Elvis swallows and nods slowly.  “What…what time is it?”

“6pm.  You slept nearly fourteen hours.”

Elvis nods again, but he looks a little guilty.  “You needed it, baby,” you say, handing his spoon to him.  “You need to eat.”  The nurse leaves.

Elvis looks down at his oatmeal.  He doesn’t seem that interested in it, but you pick it up and set it in his hands anyways.  “I know you’re not hungry, but you gotta have something.”  You take a bite of your own oatmeal.  It wasn’t delicious, but you were starving.  

Elvis shook his head.  “My stomach’s in knots.  I can’t eat a thing.”

“I know.  You have to try.”  You take his spoon to scoop up a bite for him, putting it up to his mouth.  He eats it.  You can tell it instantly makes him realize how hungry he’d been.  “Eat the whole bowl,” you tell him, handing him the spoon and getting back to work on your own food.  Slowly, he nods and starts eating again.  It takes a great weight off your chest to see him eating.  You were a little worried about his state, but as he eats, a lot of color comes back into his face.  By the time he’s finished the bowl, you’re almost done with yours.  You take the last few bites and set down the empty bowl.

He looks a thousand times better now that he’s eaten.  “You feeling better?” You ask him, and he nods.

“It’s gonna be ok,” you say, pulling him into a hug and putting your hand on the back of his head.  You can feel his body relax against yours.

“I’m scared,” he whispers, his voice breaking.

“I know.  I know, Elvis.”  That’s all you can bring yourself to say, feeling emotional as he pours his feelings onto you.  You pull away from the hug and put your hands on the side of his face.  “We’re gonna get through this, ok?”

He nods.  “Ok.  Ok.”  You move your hands down to hold his, squeezing them.  His eyes look into yours.  He looks so tired and scared.  Younger than usual.  You smile at him, and he manages a weak smile back.

“Promise…promise me you’ll stay with me,” he asks, his voice trembling a little as he puts a hand on your cheek.

You nod.  “I will.  Forever.  I’ll stay with you no matter what.”  He visibly relaxes a little at this, like he’d been afraid of you leaving him.  You rub the side of his shoulder.  “You have nothing to worry about,” you promise, and he nods, sighing.  You open your mouth to talk more, but as you do, the door opens and a different nurse comes through.

“Mr. Presley?” she says.

“Yes?” Elvis turns to her, taking his hand off of you.

You turn to look at him.  His eyes are wide.

“Uh…your mother…she went into cardiac arrest,” the nurse says, tears starting to fill her eyes.

“What?” you ask.

“Her heart gave out.  She’s…gone.  I’m so sorry,” the nurse says, her voice breaking with sadness.  Gone?  The world stops for a moment, and you can’t feel anything, blinking over and over again until you snap out of it. 

You turn to Elvis.  He’s staring at the wall in front of him.  He swallows, but doesn’t move a muscle.  His eyes are wide.

You bite your lip to keep from crying.

“Would you like to see her and say goodbye, Mr. Presley?” the nurse asks.

Elvis’s lip starts to quiver and his brow furrows as he continues to stare at the wall.  You run your hand up his back.  He looks numb.  Incredibly disoriented.

“Elvis, honey,” you say, but he interrupts you.

“No.”  His voice is weak, but firm.  “She–she can’t be gone.”

You don’t know what to say, inhaling a shaky breath from your nose.  “I’m sorry,

honey,”  you say.

“She can’t be gone,” he repeats, turning to you.  You grab his hand.

“I’m so sorry,” you say.

“Mr. Presley, if you’d like to see her now, you can say your goodbyes,” the nurse repeats.  Elvis shakes his head.  It’s like he doesn’t believe this is real.

“Come on, honey,” You say, standing up.  He shakes his head, but you tug on him and he stands. He numbly follows, keeping your hand in his and his eyes on the floor.  As you walk out of the room, he opens his mouth as if to say something, but all that comes out is a shaky gasp.  You squeeze his hand.  “You’re okay.”

His jaw is shaking still as you follow the nurse into a private suite.  When she opens the door, Gladys is lying on the bed.  She looks peaceful.  She’s not breathing.  She is still.  Utterly lifeless.  It really hits you then, and you start to feel tears come down your cheeks.  Your eyes glance at the other side of the room, where Vernon is sitting, sobbing, with his head in his hands.  You look up at Elvis, who approaches the bed slowly and reaches for his mother’s hand.  When he feels her skin against his, reality smashes into him and he breaks.  He takes several fast, gasping breaths before he starts to cry.  He can’t stand anymore, dropping onto his knees with a thud and keeping Gladys’ hand in his.  His head is down but you can see the stream of tears and hear the violent, anguished, gasping sobs you’d never heard someone make before.  He mumbles something between his cries, but it’s unintelligible.  You squat beside him and put your hand on his back, feeling him shaking over and over again as cries wrack his body.

You can’t help but cry quietly beside him, feeling his grief.  Glancing over at Vernon, you see still has his head in his hands, unable to look at his wife or son.  You don’t know how long you stay like that.  Next to Elvis, listening to him cry and rubbing his back.  You’ve never seen someone so sad.  His sobs eventually turn to gasps and whines, and you look out the window and see the sun is starting to set.  Your feet are starting to go numb.  Elvis starts to quiet after a while, and the nurse speaks softly, gently.

“We have to take her to the morgue now, Mr. Presley,” she tells him.

“No,” he cries, squeezing her hand tighter.  You stand up a little and put your hands on his waist, trying to get him to stand up by pulling.  He’s stubborn, but weak, and you’re able to pull him to his feet.  He takes one look at his mother’s face and starts sobbing again.  He turns to you and you put your hand on his cheek.  His eyes and the area around them are red, contrasting his pale, tear-soaked face.  His breathing is too fast.  He’s not getting enough air.

“Elvis, sit down,” you tell him.  “You’re going to make yourself pass out, honey.”  You ease him towards the chair opposite Vernon’s, and he all but collapses into it.  “Breathe.  Slower,” you tell him as he bends over, putting his head in his hands.  You pat his back in a slow rhythm to try and get him to relax and regulate his breathing.  Vernon has stopped crying now and shakes hands with the nurse as she apologizes to him.  You don’t watch, but you hear the footsteps and the wheels start to roll as they take Gladys out of the room.  Elvis can’t hear it over his cries and gasps, but after a few minutes of you whispering to him and patting him gently, his breathing evens out and he looks up to see that she’s gone.  Vernon comes over.

“Son, we need to go now,” he says quietly.  You can see Elvis’s eyes are welling up with tears again.  “There’s—there’s a car waiting for us outside.”

You nod, taking Elvis’s hand and helping him up slowly.  You guide his arm around your shoulder.  There’s no way he can walk in this state on his own.  You follow Vernon to the exit of the hospital.  He’s silent, keeping his head down and shuffling slowly next to you as you make your way into the backseat of the car outside.  Elvis puts his head in his hands as the car takes off, and you keep your hand on the upper part of his back, pressing your other hand on his thigh.  The ride is silent save for Elvis’s small gasps between cries, and it goes by quickly.  As you pull up to Graceland, Vernon gets out of the car on his side and comes around to you and Elvis’s side, opening the door for the two of you.  Elvis looks up and takes his father’s hand to get out of the car and you follow, letting him put his arm around you again.  You silently take him upstairs and into his room, lowering him to the bed gently before sitting to the left of him.  He’s still crying, much quieter than before, but you can hear his shaky breaths and soft whimpers.  He’s on his side, trembling, with his back facing you. 

“Elvis,” you whisper softly.  It’s hard for you to keep your composure.  You’d known Gladys for six years, being Elvis’s girlfriend since senior year.  Losing her was painful for you, too.  But it was a million times more painful for Elvis, and it hurt you to see him suffering so much.  “Elvis, honey, you’re gonna be ok.”  You put your arm over his waist, resting on his stomach, and your other hand combs through his hair gently.

“I c-can’t live wi-without her.”  His stuttering cuts a hole in your heart, a reminder of the shy, nervous boy who was bullied for his speech impediment when he was younger.  He still stutters occasionally now, especially when he’s upset or tired.

“You will, baby,” You say.  He has to.  Your hand that was in his hair moves to his face, to his soft cheeks which are stained with tears that you wipe away.  You have a decent view of his face.  You’ve never seen him so sad in your life.  You’ve never seen anyone so sad.

“I can’t,” he cries, fresh tears streaming down his cheeks.  You wipe them again.

“You can.  You’ll go on,” you tell him, leaning down and kissing his temple.  “You’re gonna be ok.  I promise.”  It doesn’t stop his crying, but he does lean into your touch a little more.

The door bursts open, and you turn to see the Colonel and Vernon in the doorway.

“Elvis,” the Colonel says, “There’s some people who want to take some photographs outside.  The press.”

“N-no,” Elvis says, keeping his back to the door.

“Elvis…” Vernon says. 

“Just a few photographs.  They’re not going to do anything to hurt you,” the Colonel reassures him.

Elvis seems a little calmed at the Colonel’s words, and he slowly sits up and wipes his eyes.  “I’ll…I’ll go out f-for a few minutes,” he says.  You help him out of bed and walk with him behind the Colonel and Vernon down the stairs.  As he walks out the door with Vernon, you sit down at the bottom of the steps and put your head in your hands, letting yourself cry.  Gladys is gone.  Forever.  You hadn’t seen much of her over the past few months, temporarily moving back into your parents’ house when Elvis left, but when you came to Graceland to check in on Elvis’s parents while he was away, she was always sad, drinking or taking pills.  She was heartbroken when Elvis left.  She’d lost her first son and couldn’t bear the thought of losing her other.

As you cry, you feel a tap on your shoulder and look up to see the Colonel holding a glass of water.  “Thank you,” you mumble, taking a drink and wiping your mouth before handing the glass back to him.  He wordlessly nods sympathetically and walks away.  After a few minutes of staring at the door in front of you, it opens and Elvis comes back in.   You stand up and he comes into your arms. 

“You did good…you did good,” you tell him, rubbing your hand up and down his back.  He doesn’t respond.  He’s still shaking from head to toe, weak with grief, barely able to breathe from the pain clenching his throat and pressing on his chest.

“Come on, honey,” you say.  “Let’s go upstairs…”  You pull away from him, wrapping an arm around him, and guide him up the stairs and back into his room.  He collapses onto the bed, curling on his side again.  He’s stopped crying for now, numbly looking out the window and taking labored breaths with his arms over his chest.  He looks like he’s struggling to keep his eyes open.

There’s no point in trying to get him to change.  After everything that happened today, you worry that the effort could be too much.  You can give him a bath tomorrow and change him into something more comfortable.  At the very least, you’ll take off his shirt and pants, leaving him in his undershirt and boxers for the night.  Leaning down, you easily unbutton his pants, and he lets you slide them off.  Getting his shirt off is harder.  You have to pry his arms away from his chest to unbutton it and pull it off, setting it on the floor.  He crosses them again, still keeping his eyes in straight ahead.

“You’re gonna be ok.”  Your voice is soft and gentle, as reassuring as you can make it.  He looks up to you and shakes his head, his face crumpling and chest shaking visibly as he draws in a breath.  It’s the only night he’s ever spent in his life without his mama.

“I…I c-can’t sleep knowin’ she’s not here,” he whispers.  “We slept in the same bed till I was thirteen.  And now…” Tears start to stream down his face again, and you lay down behind him, kissing the nape of his neck.

“I know.  I know…” that’s all you can say.  He starts to sob again.  You don’t even know how he has it left in him.  He must be exhausted at this point, having cried for some five hours at this point, seeing as the sky is black now.

Your hand gently rubs his side back and forth, trying to soothe him, but you’re exhausted too.  “It’s gonna get better, baby,” you say softly, but he continues to sob and shake.  

“I can’t….I can’t live without her…I can’t,” he repeats over and over again between cries.  The pain of seeing him like this is palpable and exists on every level, aching in your chest, pounding in your head, gripping your throat.  

“It’s ok.  You’re ok.”  Your hand gently goes under his shirt, feeling the bare skin of his side.  He doesn’t feel like he’s the wrong temperature in any way.  That’s a good sign, but it does little to ease your worry for him as you closely feel his desperate breaths under your hand.  “Breathe, baby, breathe,” you urge him.  It’s like he physically can’t, like it’s not just grief that’s attacking him, but panic. 

“You have to calm down, Elvis.  You’re going to hurt yourself.  Please.”  Your begging does nothing.  He can’t stop crying.  He can’t relax even for a moment.  You resolve to continue rubbing up and down his side and whispering gently to him, reminding him that you’re there and you’ll stay.

When you look out the window, the stars are out but there’s no moon in the sky. Memphis is quiet save for Elvis’s raspy sobs and desperate gasps for air.  You put your head down on the pillow.  The only thing you can do is continue to be with him, praying that tomorrow will bring some form of peace to your troubled hearts.

But it doesn’t.

thank you for reading <3 I love you!

[ohtobeleah]

Bruises // Jake Seresin

Chapter Six: [Ninety in Five]

Summary: Hours, Days, Weeks, Months. Just how long have you and Jake been enduring the horrific torture at the hands of a Rogue Nations Commander.

Series Warnings: Heavy themes of violence, sexual assault, torture. 18+ content. Minors DNI. Mature themes. Being held in captivity. Hostage style situation. Main character death! Whump, Angst. Conversations that discuss antisocial & antisemitism views.

Chapter Warning: ⚠️ This Chapter contains sexual explicit content that may be distressing to some. Reader discretion is advised for the topic of sexual abuse/ non-consensual sexual assault. ⚠️

Word Count: 5.4k

Author Note: THIS SERIES IS CONFRONTING, FICTIONAL, AND DEPICTS IMAGES OF TORTURE. DO NOT READ PAST THIS POINT IF YOU BELIEVE THAT THIS SERIES WILL BE DETRIMENTAL TO YOUR MENTAL STABILITY. CURATE YOUR OWN TIMELINE.

Series Masterlist | Main Masterlist

***~***~***~***~***~***~***~***~***~***~***~***~

Pain comes in all forms. From the small twinges to a bit of soreness, to perhaps the random pain. Then there’s the normal pains you live with everyday. 

But then there’s the kind of pain you can’t ignore. A level of pain so great that it blocks out everything else. It makes the rest of the world fade away. Until all you can think about is how much you hurt. 

How you manage that pain though is up to you. 

Pain. You anaesthetise it, you ride it out, you embrace it or ignore it. And for some people the best way to manage pain is to just push through it. 

“You, sit.” Hours, Days, Weeks, Months. “You, over there.” Time felt like it had stopped moving but at the same time it felt as if it had sped up. Jake had come back to you just like he’d promised—but since then time felt like a torture in and of itself. Days had passed, weeks maybe? 

“What did they do to you?” You could remember asking as he hugged you as tightly as you’d allowed him to. “Jake?” 

“You have to trust me when I say I can’t tell you.” Jake had told you all the while he tried to hide how much pain he was in. His body was giving up the fight. And now he’d had what felt like heart surgery too. “If I tell you, they’ll do it to you as well and I can’t let them hurt you anymore.” But he had to stay alive to get you out of here. 

You did as you were told by the insurgent who had been one of the three who assaulted you. Jake could see just how frightened you really were whenever he came closer to you. You’d flinch, expecting something to happen, but all the man would do was laugh to himself. Clearly chuffed at how frightened you were. 

“Today we’re gonna get what we want.” The Commander announced as he walked into the room, the same room where you’d been shot, the same room where Jake had had a pacemaker inserted into his chest. “We’re done playing games, we want answers and we want them now.” Neither you nor Jake said a word, you could tell his attitude had changed. Whatever they did to him that he wouldn’t tell you about genuinely scared him. 

“My patience is running thin, I have deadlines to maintain and here I am, babysitting the two of you like the ungrateful swine you are.” It was unpleasant, sure, but nothing you couldn’t handle. At this point during your captivity cruel words were just that. Words. They didn’t bring you any sort of physical pain or torture and for that you were grateful to be a swine. “Get her into some damn restraints!” 

“Easy.” Jake warned through a growl so primal you hardly recognised his voice as the insurgents manhandled you down into the chair. He watched as they restrained your wrists to the arms, your torso to the back, and your ankles to the legs. 

“Here’s how this is going to work, I’m going to ask you a question, you’re going to answer me and answer me promptly—“ The Commander, you didn’t even know his name after all this time, paused as he gently guided his fingers down the side or your face. “Or else I’m going to have your dear friend Jacob here pry it out of you.” 

“What?” Jake couldn’t believe what he’d just heard as he took a few steps closer to where The Commander stood with you. He was held back by two insurgents, another you recognised from your attack. “You want me to do what?” 

“Don’t pretend like you didn’t just hear what I said, it's insulting!!” 

“I’m not touching her, don’t make me hurt her, please—“ Jake pleaded, he couldn’t hurt you ever. “Don’t make me, I won’t—not for anything.” 

“Fine.” The Commander shrugged his shoulders like it was no big deal. “Nathan’s been dying to feel how tight your friend is again, so I could always ask if he and a few of the others are up for round two?” All you could do was close your eyes in hopes you’d wake up back in your cell. This was all a nightmare, this wasn’t happening again. “And she’ll be doing so much screaming she won’t even be able to tell me anything.” Jake could hear the little watch on his wrist beeping at a quickening rate as The Commander made his way over. “So I guess you could say her pain would be completely useless to me.” 

“Fine.” Jake couldn’t let you go through that again, he could protect you from it this time. “I’ll do it.” He hissed through gritted teeth. Jake was hoping you’d just tell them what they wanted to hear so that he never had to lay a finger on you. God he couldn’t hurt you in the name of saving you. It was all too much. 

“Marvellous.” The Commander grinned ear to ear as he turned back to face you. “Whenever you don’t answer a question, Jacob here is gonna do whatever I say, or else?” It was then Jake fell to his knees as an agonising scream left his throat. His teeth clenched together so hard you saw the veins in his neck sticking out as he couldn’t breathe. “I’ll stop his heart.” 

“AAAHHHHH!” Jake's screams would forever haunt you as you watched him go down in utter agony. He was in so much pain you swore his skin was tearing off his bones. “STOP! Please!” 

The Commander held up a small remote in the palm of his hand. What the hell was going on? He could see by the look on your face alone that Jake hadn’t told you what had happened, what had been put inside him. Good, he thought to himself. 

“Jake!!” You called out as he fell limp to his stomach on the floor when The Commander released his finger from the button he held in his hand. Jake groaned in response, he was still alive. “Are you okay?” 

“Mmhmm, just peachy.” He sighed as he rolled over to lay on his back and catch his breath. “I’m okay, nothing I can’t handle Hotshot.” 

“Well then—“ The Commander clapped. “Shall we get started?” 

“I’m not telling you anything.” You spat as he stepped a little closer to you as Jake took his time getting to his feet, still collecting himself. “I’d rather die than give you anything you need, spend your millions.” 

“What’s the name of the other pilot you flew with?” Why would The Commander want to know about Bradley? “In the other jet who wasn’t shot down.” His voice was steady, like he knew you wouldn’t answer. There was no need to waste his energy. “If you don’t answer, I’ll get him to kill you.” 

“So start digging a goddamn grave!” You shouted as The Commander looked at Jake with an all knowing smile. He held up the remote in his hand so Jake could see he wasn’t bluffing. He’d press it again. 

“I’m sorry.” Jake whispered as he balled his fist. “I’m so sorry.” He never thought he’d be in this position, about to hurt the woman he loved so deeply. “I’m sorry.” Tears streamed down Jake's cheeks as the watch on his wrist beeped. He needed to calm down. But how was he supposed to do that? 

“Do it.” You nodded and soon enough the force of Jake's entire fist came smashing against your nose. “Ahh! Fuck you Seresin!” It was a growl from the depths of your soul. 

“Again, what’s the name of the pilot—“ 

“Eat shit asshole.” You chuckled as you threw your head back. “I’m not telling you anything”. 

“Hit her again.” 

“I can’t.” Jake pleaded as he shook his head. Tears welled in his eyes as he looked at you, the damage he’d already caused. “Please—“ 

“Ah Ah Ah.” The Commander held up his remote again. “I’ll send you to an early grave, and then there’s no one to protect her is there?” 

“Jake.” You mumbled as Jake's eyes met yours. “Kill me.” He wasn’t expecting you to say it again, hell he still hadn’t really processed the first time you’d asked him. But now that you were saying it again Jake swore he hated himself for ever getting you into this mess in the first place. It was the first time he wished he’d died on impact. “Kill me before they get a chance to hurt me again.” 

“Why were you chosen for this mission?” Jake knew why he was chosen, he knew why Rooster was too. But in all his time flying with you, he'd never stopped to question why you were chosen. He didn’t know you well enough to wonder if you were a better weapons systems officer than Robert Floyd or Mickey Garcia. He just knew that you were his WSO. “Miss Y/l/n, tell your friend why you were put on this mission.” 

“Because I was expendable.” It broke Jake's heart. “I wasn’t worth saving if things went south.” That couldn’t have been it? 

“Hit her again.” Jake had to, he didn’t have a choice. So he did and he did hard as a rage inside his soul boiled over at the men who tasked him with this god forsaken mission. “Again.” The Commander ordered, like a good soldier Jake obliged. He hit you over and over and over again till your eyes were swollen and your face was bloodied and bruised. 

But yet you still had something to say: 

“I wasn’t worth saving from the beginning, Jake.” It came out bloodied and distorted but Jake still understood. “You never should have pulled my chute.” 

“Tell me who the other pilot was! Or so help me god I’ll send her to goddamn hell!!” The Commander asked just one more time. 

“BRADLEY BRADSHAW!” Jake shouted at the top of his lungs, he couldn’t take it anymore. The mental torture, the physical abuse. He was going crazy. “Callsign Rooster.” He looked at you as your head slumped over and blood streamed past your lips. “There! Now why on earth is that such a vital piece of fucking information!” 

All The Commander did was hold up a piece of crumpled paper that looked as if it had been lying in the dirt for days. Jake knew what it was, you could barely see it. 

“Because I needed to figure out who the Rooster was.” It was rock bottom for the both of you when the body of the woman who’d given Jake the note was uncovered on the very table Jake had woken up from surgery on. 

No. Not her. Jake didn’t even know who she was but she knew Bradshaw so that had to count for something. 

“Someone hold him.” The Commander sighed as Jake felt himself being pulled back and away from you by two men. “I’m growing to regret ever keeping you two here.” He explained as he walked over to another table close by. It had all kinds of torturous devices on it. But The Commander picked up one in particular:

A rusted old hammer. 

“You don’t seem to understand how lucky you are to be alive, Miss Y/l/n.” 

“And here I was all this time believing I was already in fucking hell.” It was the last thing you chuckled out before a searing pain radiated through your wrist, your hand. It came out of nowhere like a frate train. “AAAHHHHH!” 

“You son of a bitch!” Jake whaled as he struggled against the mercenaries. “Y/n!” The Commander had swung the full force of his strength down with the hammer, it surely had to have shattered everything in your wrist. 

“From here on in? We won’t be playing any more games.” He hissed before turning to Nathan who was just waiting for the opportunity. “Get him back to his cell.” There was a deafening silence before the final whistle blew, after all that, after beating you senseless thinking it was saving you from a worse fate: 

“No, no don’t you fucking touch her!” Jake crumbled in defeat as The Commander gave the orders. “I swear to god I’ll kill you! I’ll kill you all you mother fuckers!!” 

Pain, you just have to ride it out. Hope it goes away on its own. Hope the wound that caused it heals. There are no solutions, no easy answer, you just breathe deep and wait for it to subside. Most of the time pain can be managed, but sometimes the pain gets you when you least expect it. 

Or just gets worse than you could have ever imagined: 

“Get her to hers, but don’t forget to have a little fun first.” 

***~***~***~***~***~***~**

Jake could hear it all. He heard it for days and days and days on end. It was his torture but your personal hell. 

“God she’s fucking tight—!” They would say while you begged them to stop. “I love when they fight back.” 

“STOP HURTING HER!” Jake would shout at the top of his lungs at the bars of the cell. “Get of her you fucking pigs!” 

“Tell him you like it baby.” It was worse than hell. You cried all the while the blonde haired blue eyed man with the ugly scar forced your head in the direction of where Jake stood. He was pinning you down, holding you still, keeping your legs apart as he took you the way he wanted to. “Go on, tell him how good I feel inside you, or I’ll shoot him in the fucking face.” The man on top of you reached for the gun he carried most of the time, he’d tuck it behind his back, and pointed it Jake's way. 

Jake didn’t move a single muscle, didn’t flitch. He’d rather take a bullet than hear you say that. He’d do just about anything to get you out of here.

“SAY IT!” You gasped and cried just a little louder when the insurgent on top of you shot a bullet right past Jake's shoulder. 

“I like it!” You shrilled. It was the worst lie you’d ever told. Jake couldn’t decide what was worse though, listening to you scream and beg whatever insurgent had decided he wanted to get his rocks off to stop or when you were completely silent. 

When you were periodically left alone in your cell all Jake could hear was your sobs. But again, he couldn’t tell if the silence or the cries were more painful. 

“Hollywood, you awake?” You spent most of your time sleeping now. Trying to conserve whatever energy you had left. “I’m still here.” Jake reminded you as he sat by the bars that kept you apart. “I’m sorry, for everything.” He’d cry with you, seeing you like this was torture. Jake had noticed that the insurgents had begun to leave him alone, but that just meant you took more of the beatings, more of the tournament, more of the pain. “Please say something hotshot, anything just to let me know you’re okay.” 

“You should have killed me when you had the chance.” Was all you would say from time to time, it let Jake know you were still alive but it made him wish he was dead all at the same time. “I can’t keep going through this.” 

“You are so strong you hear me?” Jake tried to remind you through the bars. “Please don’t give up now.” 

“I just want to die.” Over and over and over again, you’d mumble it whenever you were conscious enough to talk. “I just want to die, I can’t live like this—“ 

The insurgents had stopped giving you water and food a few days ago. They’d only ever give Jake enough for himself. Whenever they did bring him things, he’d slid it across the way for you. 

“Can you please come over here so you can eat something?” Jake asked as he slid some bread through the bars for you. He had been watching you for what felt like hours just lying there on your side facing the wall. “Hollywood, you need to come here so that you can eat.” 

“Leave me alone Jake.” You sobbed, completely shutting Jake out was the only thing you could think of that would get him out of here alive. You were a goner at this point, a ghost of your former self. “Just leave me alone.” 

“Hey.” Jake saw what you were doing, he wasn’t stupid. “Y/n, at least give me the decency and turn around, alright?” You didn’t make any attempt to move, so Jake just waited. “Please?” 

When you finally sat up and faced Jake, you took in just how broken he really looked. His hair was longer, darker from the dirt of the cells you were kept in. He had a beard that looked unkempt and curly. But he was still Jake. Your Jake. 

“You can’t give up on me now.” Jake reminded you as he spoke softly and smiled through the bars. “I love you too much to lose you before I even get a chance to live my life with you.” Jake had never admitted to anyone he’d loved them before, he wasn’t the kind of guy who fell in love. But here he was. “Or just live a life with you in it, hell that would be enough for me.” Oh so in love with the woman who he spent all his time running from. 

“Jake you don’t have to say—“ You knew it was all lies to get you to keep fighting, you knew it was all just tactical reassurance. 

“I’m not saying anything that isn’t true, I wouldn’t lie to you.” Jake pleaded with you to come closer to the bars. “Just come here, please? Please eat something.” You did, slowly. You shuffled across your cell on your knees until you were resting up against the bars right next to Jake. “There’s my girl.” 

“Why didn’t you kill me?” You asked as you took only half the slice of bread Jake had given you and handed it back to him. Being careful not to use your bad hand, the one you knew was completely broken. “When you had the chance to.” 

“It’s probably really selfish of me to admit it, but I couldn’t get through any of this without you.” Jake admitted the painful truth. “I needed you to stay, and I’d never be able to kill you, because like I keep saying, I love you, I can’t kill you because that would just kill me and then we’re both dead.” You listened and took in what Jake was saying, none of it made any sense to you. But trauma did weird things to people. And you were trauma bonded hard core to Jake Seresin. 

“Would it be the worst thing ever if I told you I loved you too?” Gratitude, appreciation, giving thanks. No matter what words you use, it all means the same thing. Happy. People are supposed to be happy, grateful for friends, family. Happy to just be alive, whether you like it or not. 

Jake reached in and around the bars to draw you as close as he possibly could. It was the first gentle touch you’d felt in what felt like days. Your body had collected a map of bruises that varied in colour, size and shape, but Jake did his best to avoid them all. He couldn’t hurt you anymore. He wouldn’t. 

“That’s definitely the delusion talking Hollywood.” Maybe you and Jake weren’t supposed to be happy. Maybe the small amount of gratitude you felt in your heart when he kissed the top of your head for reassurance wasn't supposed to be a feeling you felt at all. Maybe that gratitude had nothing to do with joy. Maybe being grateful meant recognising what you have for what it is. 

You could appreciate the small victories and admire the struggle it takes simply to be human. Maybe you were just thankful in the moment of quiet peace for the familiarity of Jake's warm embrace. Nothing could hurt you while you were in his arms. No one could touch you, or break your spirit. 

“I just hope that whatever version of heaven or after life there is after this world—that I get to just exist on a farm somewhere in my own piece of paradise.” You mumbled as Jake listened carefully. He wouldn’t mind that, a heaven on earth with you. Maybe he’d take you back to Texas, recuse a dog and live a life where no one could hurt you ever again. “I’d like to just exist peacefully, leave the jets behind, raise some cows maybe.” 

“Sounds like a pretty great version of a forever land.” And Jake was thankful for the things he’d never know or experience that he’d watched you go through. The fact that he had the fight to still be standing was all for you. He had to get you out of this hell. “But unfortunately for you you’re not gonna get to visit for many years, I’m not letting you die in here Hollywood.”

“When we get outta here you’re gonna take me on a date.” You sighed all the while you looked up at Jake through the bars of your cell while his arm stayed wrapped around your shoulders. “Because nothing in here counts for shit Seresin.” Your smile was enough reason to celebrate as Jake smiled and let out a small audible laugh. It made you grin, which soon turned into a throaty cough from the dirt you’d inhaled from lying down. 

“When we get out of here I might just marry you if you’re not careful.” Jake didn’t expect you to reply, he was just thankful you were eating. But when you did reply, his watch began to beep, because you made his heart race at the speed of light. 

“That doesn’t sound like the worst thing in the world.” 

***~***~***~***~***~***~**

The calm didn’t last long. You should've known better to fall into a false sense of security in Jake's arms. There was only so much he could do for you from the other side of the bars. 

“HEY!” But that didn’t mean he didn’t try to defend you. “CUT IT OUT!” You could barely hear Jake's voice over the roar of what you could only assume was a leaf blower as one the the many insurgents that had started to see you as their own personal sex slave kicked up enough dust to cloud your entire cell. “HEY!” It was all very heroic and all. “SHE CANT BREATHE FUCK HEAD!” But it didn’t do a damn thing. 

“Kinda the whole point.” The man with blonde hair and blue eyes laughed as he shut off the blower. “You know, for what it’s worth man, your girl over here’s a really nice time.” He chuckled at the door of Jake's cell, knowing there wasn’t a damn thing Jake could do. “Especially when she screams about how much it hurts.” 

“Why don’t you step in here and say that again?” Jake growled as he wrapped his fists round the bars of his cell door. “Come on, let’s fucking go a few rounds.” 

“Or I could just force you to listen to your bitch here suck my dick.” Jake lunged as far forward as he could to reach for the insurgents throat. He stepped back with a maniacal smirk plastered across his face. “Oh, look at you big guy—what are you gonna do huh?” 

“Jake—“ Your coughing drew Jake back to reality before he could be tainted into doing something stupid. “I can’t breathe.” You gasped as you leaned on your knees in the middle of your cell. “The dirt, can’t, breathe—“ At the sight of the dust settling around you, the insurgent went back to what he’d been sent down to do. He started the leaf blower again, kicking up a whirlwind of dust and dirt and debris around you. 

It was a different kind of torture all together, not being able to see or hear or breathe. Having your senses taken away from you all the while you were trapped in a cage by yourself. Listening to Jake try to guide you through it, his voice a guiding light through the darkness that threatened to consume you entirely. 

***~***~***~***~***~***~**

“MOTHERFUCKER!” Jake's screams were hard to listen to, but then again he’d been listening to you non-stop for days if not weeks on end. “AARRRGGGHHHH!!” You could smell the awful aroma of burning flesh as you stood by the bars that separated you from Jake. They had him tied to a chair in the middle of his cell. 

This was different, they usually took you away for this kind of torture to a more sterile environment. Perhaps The Commander wasn’t kidding when he said they weren’t playing games anymore. Not that you ever took your situation to be one. 

“Looks good on you Lieutenant.” The insurgents snickered as they admired their handwork. A brand so deep and burnt that it was surely going to get infected. “How’s his heart rate?” 

“Still holding steady—“ 

“Maybe we should give a few to her and see how he reacts.” 

“Don’t.” It was only when they threatened you did Jake's heart rate change. “Touch her.” 

“But couples get matching tattoos all the time.” Nathan held the torch up to the metal branding rod he was using on Jake. “It’ll be just the cutest thing.” He teased before he tilted his chin to his colleague. “Bring her over here.” 

When you didn’t struggle, when you didn’t beg for mercy, that’s when Jake knew something was wrong. When you were begging him to kill you there was still a fight left inside you. But now? Your silence was worrying, you looked—

Sick. 

“She’s burning up.” The man who had gone to get you from your cell mentioned as he brought you in. “She's caught a fever or something.” 

“You okay?” Jake asked as the man made you kneel between where his legs were tied to the legs of the chair. If you had any fight left you would have told him you were fine. But you couldn’t hide the fact you were exhausted, that you were ill. Your head came down to rest against Jake's knee and that’s when the blonde haired blue eyed man who’s already hurt you far too many times to count lifted your shirt and pressed the fiery hot metal into the small of your back. 

“AHHHHHH!” Your painful screams ricocheted off everything they came into contact with and all Jake could do was look down at you as tears streamed down his cheeks. He was your front seater, he was meant to protect you, keep you safe. He failed you. He’d done nothing but fail you since he first met you. 

You couldn’t take the pain any longer and passed out at Jake’s feet. He wanted to wrap you up in his arms and hold you close. He wanted to see if you were alive at the very least—but they left you there. They left Jake tied to the damn chair with new open wounds that matched yours. 

“Y/n?” He sobbed all the while trying to bust out of his restraints. “Hollywood—you gotta wake up.” When you didn’t move, didn’t stir, didn’t groan,

Jake's heart rate began to skyrocket. His watch that monitored his pulse had never sounded so erratic. “Hollywood, baby please you gotta wake up for me you don’t get to die here, not like this.” 

Again you didn’t move, you didn’t stir, you didn’t make any sounds. Jake couldn’t even see your back rising and falling with your breath; it was that shallow. 

“Don’t leave me here, please?” He begged as he tried to slow his heartbeat with deep controlled breaths. “Wake up, wake up for me, please, please just wake up.” But again you didn’t move. “Oh god.” Jake looked up as he tried to blink away his tears. “Don’t you dare take her away from me.” He begged whatever god was listening, Jake Seresin wasn’t a believer—but if he made it out of this alive with you by his side he’d pray to any god for forgiveness, any goddess for remorse. Any religion that was willing to give him a heaven with you at the very least. 

“Please don’t take her from me.” 

***~***~***~***~***~***~**

“Ow.” Noone believes their life will turn out just kind of okay. Everyone thinks they’re going to be great.  From the day you decide to become a Naval Aviator in the top one percent of pilots, you’re filled with expectations. “Oh god—“ 

“Easy, easy Hollywood.” Jake cooed as he watched you try to come to from being out cold at his feet for an unknown amount of time. Jake had tried to count seconds in his head but lost count with worry. “You’ve been out for a while, just take it easy.”

“Everything hurts.” Expectations of the trails you will blaze, the people you would help, the difference you could make. “My back.” Great expectations of who you will be, where you will go. And then you get there. “Fuck—“

“Can you untie my wrist?” Jake asked you softly as he watched you get up to your knees in agonising pain. “Please darlin, I just need you to untie my wrist so I can hold you.” You moved slowly, but did what Jake had asked. You untied his worst and sat back in defeat as he worked to untie the rest of the restraints around his appendages. 

“I really don’t feel good.” Jake knew it had to be your wrist or your lungs. It was so broken and swollen and definitely infected from where the rusted hammer had broken skin. You’d been inhaling too much foreign bacteria too. “Jake, I think I’m gonna be sick.” 

“That’s fine, you be sick.” He reassured you before he finally dropped to his knees and took you in his arms. “Oh my god I thought you were dead.” 

“May as well be.” Everyone thinks they're going to be great, and you really can’t help but to feel a little bit robbed when your expectations aren’t met. “I’m in this for you, I’m in this for you Jake, and I’m in this to finish the race but if me dying means you get to live and you get out of here then so be it.” But sometimes your expectations sell you short. “You need to live Jake.” 

“So do you.” Jake cooed as he held you close in his chest. He felt like all he could do was hold you until you fell asleep. “You’re gonna make it out of here.” 

“I don’t think I will.” Sometimes the expected simply pales in comparison to the unexpected. “And that’s okay.” It makes you wonder why people cling to their expectations, because the expected is just what keeps you steady, standing still. “I’m expendable, remember?” The expected is just the beginning. 

“No no no no, you were never expendable, not to me.” Jake pleaded with you to stay. You’d endured so much. You didn’t get to leave him now. “Just stay a little longer and I’ll get you the help you need, I promise alright?” 

“Just a little while longer.” Was all you managed to murmur out before you were gone again. In and out of concussion in Jake's protective embrace. 

“I’ve got you Hollywood.” Jake sobbed as he rocked with you back and forth softly. “I’ve got you.” It was only when Jake looked up to see a figure standing at the cell door, dressed in all black with not a single identifying feature on display. That was odd, all the insurgents had gotten really comfortable with their identities being paraded around. “It’s alright, you’re okay, I’m here.” Jake continued reminding you as he rocked you softly, knowing that if you were dying he wanted you to know he was with you till the very end. “It’s okay.” 

The unexpected though? Is what changes your life. 

“Lieutenants—“ The man spoke up finally after some time standing there at the gate. “You two have been very hard to track down.” The man chuckled to himself as gunfire began to ring out in the corridor. It didn’t seem to phase him whatsoever as Jake worked to shield you. 

Help. Help was finally fucking here. 

***~***~***~***~***~***~***~***~***~***~***~***~**

Tags 🏷️ @americaarse @blindedbythelightt @tayl0rhuynh @athenabarnes @imaginecrushes @whyareallnamesgone @mjmaximoffbarnes @amiets2 @mads-weasley @gabbyella @ephemeralninon @xoxabs88xox @pedrohoe04 @starkleila @je-suis-prest-rachel @clancycucumber230 @maisie-rebloging-blog @callsign-barbell @obiwankenobis-lap @some-lovely-day @paperbag333 @callsign-magnolia @jhiddles03 @hardballoonlove @shanimallina87 @seitmai i @abaker74 @missemrose @starset21 @kmc1989 @phoenix1388 @emma8895eb @tsofo26 @itsmytimetoodream

[starry-eyedblog]

pain meds

ghost/soap/female reader

wordcount: 3,591

warning/tags: 18+ smut, non con, sexual assault dark themes, taking advantage, medications, lying, manipulation, gaslighting, pussy eating, grinding/humping

authors note: first long fic here, woohoo! pls do not read this if it's nae yer cup of tea. i'm trying to write darker themes and nae feel guilty, and here was the first thing my brain made so pls enjoy! also am i projecting a bit? aye, but it's fine!

─── ☆ ─── ☆ ─── ☆ ─── ☆ ───

it’s been a rough, tiring day and your body just cannot handle it anymore. you’re currently sat in the lounge, curled up on the worn out couch. you’ve been wanting to go to your bedroom for twenty minutes now but every time you move to get up, pain spikes through you. seems you’ll have to bite the bullet soon though.

“ye awright hen? yer lookin’ a bit peely-wally.” soap comments as he walks into the lounge with ghost behind him. you don’t bother to move your head up to stare into their eyes, keeping your face pressed into one of the flat cushions.

soap sits across from you, while ghost takes the space next to you on the couch, your knees pressing together due to him man spreading. “am fine soap, just sore.” you shrug him off, desperate to just get into your bedroom where your meds are. “c’mon, tell us what’s up.” ghost responds, his voice gruff and slightly muffled from his balaclava.

you want to shrug him off too, but now that both men are staring down at you with concern, theres no point trying to lie or ignore them. “it’s just my chronic pain. been really bad all day.” you say quietly. both men let out soft exhales at your answer, but soap is first to speak up. “need anythin’?” he asks, not taking his eyes off of you.

a light groan leaves you as you move slightly on the couch and pull your face out of the pillow, looking over at soap. “my pain meds, been wanting to get off the couch for ages now to lay down and take them.” you chuckle weakly and ghost is fast to answer. “want me to grab them and bring them through?” he asks, looking down at you with beady brown eyes.

“no no it’s alright, need to take them in my room.” you say weakly, pushing the blanket off of your body as you try stretch your legs out which sends a sharp pain through you. “why can’t you take them through here?” ghost questions, his eyebrow raising slightly. “long story short, they get me high off my face and i only feel comfortable taking them in my room.” you answer truthfully, looking at ghost.

“fit are ye on?” soap asks innocently, smiling kindly at you which makes you feel warm inside. “codeine, strongest dose.” you tell him, to which soap makes a low whistle. “yer on the proper strong stuff.” he chuckles, glancing at ghost who returns the eye contact. “assuming that you don’t take it often then.” ghost chimes in, looking down at you as you try stretch your limbs out.

“god no, wouldn’t be able to function. only take them when it’s real bad, can barely think let alone focus on them. it’s like my brain goes fuzzy.” you explain, all your words sinking into both mens minds and being stored away. “and you’re all alone when you take them?” ghost asks curiously. “yeah? i mean, the meds make me drowsy and tired so i wouldn’t be good company.” you chuckle before you’re pushing yourself off the couch and stretching with a low whine.

a few of your joints crack loudly as you stretch out a little, the pain spiking and ebbing away a few times. “well, i’m gonna go take them now. i’ll see you in a few hours.” you say softly, waving at both men who watch you. “dinnae be silly hen, we’re nae leavin’ ye alone in that state.” soap responds, standing up and stepping towards you as ghost gets off the couch.

“what are you on about?” you ask with a raised eyebrow and confused expression. “just like soap said, we’re gonna take care of you. would be pretty awful of us to let you suffer alone like that.” ghost answers, his voice stern to let you know theres no way of changing his mind. “that’s very kind of you guys but i can deal with it myself, like i have been for the past year.” you answer with an amused chuckle, but both men don’t laugh or smile which causes you to stop.

neither man speaks, and for a moment there is this uncomfortable tension that has you desperate to scurry away. “we’re teammates, gotta look out for one another.” ghost responds, and you feel your heart flutter slightly. they just want to help, look after you for a bit. and god, does that sound good. even though you can handle it usually, it’s still a whole ordeal to go through, and to have not one, but two of your close teammates help just a bit. it sounds really good.

“you sure?” you ask, wanting to know for definite. “aye hen, we’re sure.” soap responds, taking another step forward to wrap a strong arm around your waist and guiding you back to your room. well, no turning back now you think. ghost follows behind, watching soap support you back to your bedroom. once you make it, you feel soap’s arm pull away and you sit down on your neatly made bed, a sigh leaving you as you fall back and lay down on the clean duvet.

“just tell us what you need, we’ll get it for you.” ghost mumbles, looking around your room and spotting the packets of pills on your bedside table, as well as the full boxes of the codeine that has several warnings in red on it. “you really weren’t kiddin’ when you said they were strong, huh?” ghost comments, looking back at you as you lay on your bed.

a soft chuckle leaves you as you shake your head slightly, not saying anything as you push yourself up and rearrange your blankets and pillows to get comfy. “if you could make a hot water bottle and grab me a bottle of water, that would be perfect.” you say, looking up at both men that tower over your bed. ghost nods, grabbing the empty hot water bottle from your bed and leaving, making his way to the kitchen.

“so chronic pain eh? first time a’ve heard of that from ye.” soap says as he sits down on your bed, next to you but with his legs hanging off the side, feet firmly placed on the floor. you look over at him and shrug your shoulders sheepishly. “just never felt the need to tell anyone aside from price. it only gets really bad when i’ve pushed myself way too far.” you explain and soap nods in response. “were ye born with it?” he asks, head tilting to the side slightly and all you can see is a puppy when you look at him, his big blue eyes staring into yours with curiousness.

“yeah, so not much i can do about it.” you smile, a bit of sadness behind your words that soap notices but doesn’t say anything on. he doesn’t reply, unsure of what to say and instead sits a little closer to you. “well at least we can take care of ye, eh? deserve a break.” he says comfortingly, placing his hand on your thigh to give it a light pat which sends a soft blush across your face.

soon enough, ghost is making his way back into your bedroom with a hot water bottle and a fresh water plastic bottle. he doesn’t say anything, placing the plastic bottle on your bedside table and the hot water bottle next to you on the bed. you thank him softly, sliding the hot water bottle behind your back and pressing it into your lower back as you sit propped up with your pillows.

without a word, ghost is grabbing one of the half empty packets of your codeine tablets and handing it to you, where you pop too white pills out and swallow them down with the water. “so, how long till they kick in?” ghost asks, sitting down on the comfortable chair at your desk you use frequently. “uhm, around fifteen to thirty minutes. and when they hit, they hit strong.” you explain with a chuckle.

“we’ll keep ye company, pet.” soap says with a smile, still sat on the bed near you, his hand no longer touching your thigh. you’ve known these two men for about a year now, worked several missions together and trained together. you’ve gone for drinks, attended parties and events but somehow, never spent time in the others bedroom for more than five minutes. even though you’re nervous, to be around others on your meds, you have an underlining trust with them. after all you’ve gone through in your line of work, you kind of have to.

during the twenty minutes from when you swallowed down your pills, the three of you engage in casual conversation, talking about work and family life. it’s mostly soap talking but ghost chimes in enough for it to feel like a three way conversation that has you relaxing. once it hits around half an hour, you can feel the codeine take affect, your eyes unfocusing slightly and your brain feeling fuzzy around the edges. your body goes limp against the covers, shoulders untensing.

both men notice the change, how your sentences start to become more simpler and how it takes you longer to respond to the conversation. “that codeine kicked in then, hen?” soap asks with a chuckle and you groan, curling into your self a little as the drug starts to dig it’s claws in deeper and make you feel disorientated. “yeah,” you mumble, grabbing for your water to chug the cool beverage that feels like heaven sliding down your throat.

ghost and soap exchange a look that you miss as you chug the water bottle, soon putting it back on your bedside table as you feel weight on your bed beside you. was someone in your bed? when did that happen?

you look over, ghost now beside you while soap stays sat on the edge of your bed. “huh?” you ask, confused as to why they’ve moved closer. “grounding, will help keep you calm.” ghost murmurs as he wraps his strong arms around your frame and pulls you back so his chest is flush with your back, legs entangled on the duvet. a soft whine leaves you, not understanding what’s really happening and why ghost is holding you.

but it feels really nice, god it feels better than that. to have this shred of comfort while you’re in this state, it’s soothing and you’re grateful for it. you don’t answer, instead sinking into his touch as you lay there and let the codeine suck the pain away. soap watches on silently, taking in the sight before one warm hand is being rested on your calf, not moving.

“yer oot of it, aren’t ye?” soap asks as your eyes flutter shut and you press your face into the pillow for the cool relief it provides. “huh? no m’not.” you grumble after the words finally sink into your fuzzy brain, taking longer than normal. both men laugh at this, knowing it’s a lie.

“sure love,” ghost mutters into your shoulder, his balaclava brushing against your skin and causing you to flinch, your sense of touch heightened from the drugs which makes soap grin. “sensitive wee lass.” he says as his hand now moves up your calf and to your thigh slowly, rubbing at the warm skin which makes your thighs twitch and subconsciously try to shut, but soap’s strong hand stops them.

“eager, aren’t you mactavish?” ghost teases, looking at soap from over your shoulder, his eyes showing smugness. “fuck off ye bawbag, ah ken you are too.” he mutters, glaring at ghost as his hand grips at your thigh a little tighter which pushes a confused whine out of you. “shh, you’re okay.” ghost whispers, his voice gravely and sending a pulse straight down to your core.

“wh-what are you guys doing?” you groan, your eyesight slightly blurry around the edges as you slowly open your eyes and push yourself up a little to look over at soap who sends you a cheeky grin. “takin’ care of ye pet, lay back doon.” soap commands in a sickly sweet voice, and who are you to deny him?

ghost presses a flat palm to your chest and pushes you back down into the bed, his arm then coiling around your waist giving you no room to move or wiggle. “just needed someone to look after you, eh?” ghost rumbles quietly, watching the way soap’s hand teases at your thighs, dipping into your inner thigh for a moment or two before pulling back. “go on then, touch her.” ghost orders with stern eyes, which makes soap’s head perk up.

“you heard what i said, touch her.” ghost repeated, his voice a little lower as he watches the words compute in soap’s brain. soap isn’t one to disobey orders, and soon his hand is ghosting over your crotch, lightly pressing on your clit. you gasp and whine, face pressing into the pillow. your meds have always made you sensitive, made you feel like an exposed, raw wire.

soap’s pressure soon becomes harsher, pressing harder and harder onto your clit as you gasp and whine pathetically, trying to writhe in ghosts hold. “want more hen? huh?” soap chuckles, looking up at you as he cups your crotch. the codeine starts to sink in even further, meddling with your brain and for a moment you stay silent, trying to convey a sentence or even a couple words.

“words, love.” ghost whispers into your ear, his balaclava pressing against your flushed ear. “wh-why do i feel..” you trail off, trying to find the word somewhere in your drug induced state. “good?” you finish after a moment, and both men chuckle condescendingly at your words. “wonder why.” ghost comments as soap begins to pull your pyjama shorts off.

it doesn’t take long for soap to get them down and off your legs, thrown to the side without care as he leans down between your thighs and brushes his thumb slowly down your clothed cunt. all that lies between the two of you is your simple black underwear, making the touch even stronger. you gasp out as he pressed down on your clit, his other arm wrapping around your thigh to get closer.

“put that tongue to good use, yeah?” ghost says smugly, looking at soap who growls quietly before he’s ripping your underwear off and delving into your cunt like a starved man. you cry out, back trying to arch as your fingers frantically grab at your duvet. soap runs his wet tongue over your slit, making his way up to your clit while ghost combs one of his big hands through your hair. “feels good huh? you like johnny between your legs, isn’t that right?” he whispers into your ear, his hand thats wrapped around your wait tightening ever so slightly.

you let out a high whine, groaning as you turn your head to the side quickly which causes you to feel dizzy and fazed, panting softly into the pillow. is… is johnny eating you out right now? god you can’t even wrap your brain around that right now, your drugged mind too fried by the pleasure to think much. short, pathetic whimpers leave you as johnny continues to eat you out with no remorse, your wetness dripping down his chin and soaking his face.

your hips buck up several times without you realising, your eyes rolling back as you drool onto your pillow. soap is groaning into your slick cunt, his fingers digging painfully into your thighs so you can’t escape even if you wanted to. his tongue is thrusting into your soaking hole, paying no attention to your clit as he enjoys your whines and gasps. he isn’t doing this for you, he’s doing it for himself.

ghost watches the scene before him, his trousers growing tighter and tighter around his crotch. (he was already hard at the idea of you powerless against him and soap). he slowly runs his big hand up to your chest, sneaking under your t-shirt and bra to reach your puffy nipple that he meanly tugs on. a soft cry leaves you, the touch too rough causing you try squirm away but it’s useless. he chuckles softly at your reaction, resting his chin on your shoulder as his hips roll up and grind against your arse.

a quiet sigh of relief leaves ghost as he grind his hips up, finally getting some touch to his neglected cock as he continues to toy with your nipples. your entire body is boneless between the two soldiers as you take all they are giving you. it’s too much, your mind unable to fully comprehend if this is real or some wet dream you’re currently having after being knocked out by your pain meds.

you’re not sure if it feels like five minutes or five hours, soaking in the pleasure and mean touches while your mind fizzles away from the codeine. soon enough it grows too strong and you’re falling asleep with soap’s tongue inside you and ghost’s bulge against your backside. they watch as the meds lull you into a deep sleep, head pressed into the pillow and mouth agape. this doesn’t stop soap though, he stays between your thighs for several more minutes, his hips soon grinding down into the mattress and humping like a dog in heat until both men are coming in their boxers.

the two of them tidy you up and tuck you into bed with your underwear and shorts back on, not leaving a single trace of themselves as they exit your room and go off to do their own separate stuff. it’s not until a few hours later that you wake up groggy and alone, your room now dark. you squint your eyes, looking to your left and making out the half drunk bottle. you waste no time in snatching it and gulping down the water before clumsily climbing out of bed.

you try to recall what happened before you were knocked out, vague memories of soap between your legs and ghost behind you. they sexually assaulted you… right? or was it all just a twisted wet dream? you’re sure you really felt them touching you but you’ve woken up all alone without a single bit of evidence to back up your accusation.

you saunter out of your room, not looking too good as you try track down both men which doesn’t take long as you find them in the lounge, quietly talking between themselves. “oh, there ye are hen. were ye takin’ a nap like?” soap asks, seeing you walk into the room with a confused expression. they take in how disoriented you are and do their best not to laugh. in their eyes, you look just like a lost puppy.

“what? you knew i was asleep. the both of you took me through to my room and.. and you touched me after i was all drugged up.” you frown, accusing them while you stand in the doorway. ghost chuckles quietly, staring up at you. “bad dream?” he asks, causing soap to laugh.

“fit de ye mean drugged up? did ye take somethin’? is that why yer accusing us of being perverts?” soap asks, a questioning expression on his face as your face contorts to confusion. “huh? i told you guys, how i take codeine sometimes for my chronic pain?” you say, not sounding totally convinced as you slowly sit down on the couch across from them. “codeine? chronic pain? first time a’ve heard of that love.” ghost replies, leaning forward a little to look at you a bit more intently which has goosebumps rising over your skin.

“i told you guys this already, and then yo-you took advantage of me. i remember it.” you mumble, feeling more and more defeated as the conversation continues. “think those meds have scrambled yer brain a tad pet, that never happened. codeine is pretty strong, sure it’s nae just them messin’ wit ye?” soap responds, concerned as he looks at you and it makes you feel even worse, the guilt starting to eat up at you as you see how sincere they are. did you truly just make all this up in a dream? it’s common for your meds to blur the lines between dream and reality, you’ve fallen victim to it many a time.

you feel absolutely mortified now, rushing out of your room to accuse two of your close friends of sexual assault, thank god no one else was around to hear your accusations.“…i gu-guess so. i’m really sorry guys, my meds they always play with me. make things feel real and make other things feel like dreams. im-im so sorry for accusing you of that.” you usher out, the embarrassment washing over you. both of them shake their heads, “it’s okay darlin’. we forgive you, ain’t that right johnny?” ghost says, glancing over at soap who smiles. “course, nae hard feelings hen.” he responds and looks over at you.

you let out a sigh, your hands running through your hair as you close your eyes. “can’t believe i thought that was real.” you chuckle weakly, leaning back into the couch and soap laughs softly. “so you gonna tell us fit happened in that wee dream of yers then?” he teases playfully and you flush pink, shaking your head frantically. “god no,” you utter and soap laughs again at your embarrassment, ghost joining in.

@alwaysshallow

@juvenillia