#I know nothing of details I just know my roommate said ''it gets dark''

[phoenixiancrystallist]

DAY 9

(╯°□°）╯ MOUNTAINS

Still looks like a bouquet of dicks to me. I can't win. Oh well, MOVING ON, next we're doing the foreground :D ...of the background...

[highvern]

Talk

Pairing: Kwon Soonyoung x f!reader

Genre: angst, fluff, smut

warnings:  oral sex/face sitting/69, prone bone, dom/sub dynamics (dom!reader/sub!hoshi),  protected sex, impact play (spanking), mentions of butt stuff but nothing explicit

Length: ~ 4.3k

Note: this ended up way longer than i originally planned... by like 2k but im weak for sub hoshi. realized i accidentally made them schmidt and cece from new girl.... oh well. as always thank u @gyuswhore for suffering my horrible punctuation and EVERYONE HAS TO READ HER UP COMING HOSHI FIC FOR PIRATE HOSHI I DEMAND IT

series m.list: Houdini [s], Green Light [s, f], YUCK [f], Casual [a, s, f], Mine [s], espresso [f, s]

m.list

This blog is intended for 18+ only! Minors/blank blogs will be blocked.

Soonyoung talks. A lot. 

Sometimes it makes no sense. Like the occasions he calls you after a night out and slurs his words through the speaker as you hum agreement to who knows what until he passes out while still on the line, letting you hear every snore and smack of his lips until you hang up; or when he’s inside you and it's all a bit too much that he has to tell you how good it feels in excruciating detail; or when you both wake up in the morning, you late for work and him trying to talk you into keeping the sheets warm for just a few more minutes, and Soonyoung thinks he’s convinced you but fifteen more minutes really won’t hurt because his apartment is closer to your office anyway.

He talks so much that not hearing his voice the second he opens the door is like a slap in the face.

There's no invitation inside, or lukewarm greeting. The door hangs ajar, Soonyoung already back down the hall in the direction of his room with the expectation you’ll follow. 

You do, but with the same hesitancy you’d approach a wild animal: curious and on edge.

Despite the hour, his roommates aren’t anywhere to be seen. No bodies sprawled across the couch or light under their doors. Their presence never stopped you before but it’s unsettling that there's no buffer of anything to break the storm cloud choking the atmosphere. Just stark exposure to whatever is clearly bothering Soonyoung that he won’t tell you about because, technically, you two don’t do that. Or, he does and you vehemently refuse all of it with less and less authenticity each time.

Soonyoung doesn’t prattle on about his day or ask about yours as you trail behind him. He throws off his shirt without a word, collapses on the edge of the mattress, and roughly pulls you into his lap. It’s cold and unfeeling and exactly the kind of sex you’d enthusiastically participate in a year ago. But nothing like the Soonyoung you’ve grown familiar with over the past few months.

He doesn’t comment on the low cut of your top, falling into the motions without the usual banter. 

You wiggle free from his grasp, trying to meet his gaze. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing.” He doesn’t look at you before taking back up where he left off.

“Stop.” You push him back, trying to get a look at his face but he stays in the crook of your neck. “Stop.”

The silence that follows is loud. He collapses back into the bed, arms curling up to hide away from whatever is chasing him.

“I said I’m fine,” he mumbles.

“Could've fooled me,” you huff.

“Doesn’t matter. Not what you come here for anyway, right?”

A half truth that stings more than you’d like. It sinks in your gut in the quiet dark of his room.

“You know what? Forget I asked, I’m leaving.”

“Wait,” he says, arms attempting to snake around your waist but you’re already up.

“No. You don’t need to be an asshole when I’m just trying to be nice.”

“Because you’re sunshine and rainbows all the time?”

“Did I fucking say I was? If you’ve got a problem with it you’ve had long enough to lose my number.”

“I’m sorry, I just…” he sighs heavily. “Bad day.”

You soften at the break in his voice. Stepping back over, you stand between his legs. He looks small, hunched over with his head in his hands and the weight of the world on his shoulders. The light you’ve come to associate with having him within reach is gone and all that's left is a man you don’t really recognize. He buries his face in the warmth of your stomach, and goes limp as you run a hand across his shoulders.

“Do—” you clear your throat. “Do you wanna talk about it?”

Because if Soonyoung is talking there's less chances for you to open your mouth and screw it all up. You don’t know how to be doughy and tender with the same level of ease he possesses. You’ll probably fail trying but it's the least you can do.

It’s uncharted territory; for you, for this, whatever this is because it doesn’t really resemble anything you’ve done before even though the foundation is the same. Because you care about Soonyoung, and he obviously cares about you. But you’re not sure how to let him and even less sure how to return it.

“No.” 

“Okay,” you say, at a loss for what comes next.

Inactivity breeds restlessness. Without any idea how to do this on your own, you default to the steps he took when you were half cooked on your bathroom floor.

Soonyoung eyes you with questions but doesn’t speak as you drag him into the en suite. Bites his tongue as you work off your clothes under the sterile overhead light and then move to work on his; raising his arms when you poke him and managing his pants on his own. He even smiles, or his mouth twitches in a vague allusion to a grin, when you flick water at him after guaranteeing the temperature won’t give you both pneumonia.

Finally tucked behind the shower curtain, he stands dumbly. Not another move to help, content to watch you wash his hair, nails raking over his scalp until he shivers. 

You ignore the prod at your thigh. Focused on letting the warmth of the water do the heavy lifting, you soak a washcloth in soap and lather his skin until it tinges pink. A shampoo mohawk earns a kiss dusted along your shoulders and you might even blush a bit if you weren’t so focused on perfecting the spikes so he looks like one of those 90s alternative poster boys.

Out of the shower, his vow of silence continues. Everything he isn’t saying is clear in his eyes, especially when you slather his face in one of those mud masks, painting him bright green. He’s less intimidating with chunks of clay in his eyebrows.

He isn’t accommodating but he also doesn’t outright refuse which seems to be the best you’re going to get. 

“You look like Shrek,” you snort, satisfied and turning towards the mirror to cover your own face in a matching shade.  

“Well then you're Fiona.” His head comes over your shoulder, chin digging into bare skin to watch you in the mirror. His chest is sticky against your back from steam but you don’t mind if it means he’ll talk to you.

“Actually,” you think, wiggling to face him. “I think you’re more like Donkey.” 

“The dragon fits you better anyway.”

“Are you calling me scary?” you gasp.

“Yes.”

“Good. Remember that next time you want me to suck on your balls.”

He winces. “I can feel them retreating into my body already.”

“Don’t make me laugh, it’ll mess up the mask.”

Without a care for the still drying mess of his face, he takes refuge back in his favorite place. Tucked under your chin, he sighs.

“I’m sorry I was a dick earlier. Work sucked today. I didn’t get a contract I wanted, they picked some other kid at the studio for it. I’ve taught him for years and they picked him over me.”

“I’m sorry.” You placate him with a gentle hand up his back, nails tracing loose patterns as the fan hums over head.

“Not your fault.”

“No, but it still sucks.”

“Yeah.” He nuzzles closer, arms heavy around your waist like you’d even think to move away. “It’ll be fine though. He’s a good kid and I couldn’t be mad at him. But I shouldn’t have taken it out on you.”

Fifteen minutes later, you both wash away the flakes of clay, cracked around the corners of your eyes and mouths, and retreat back under the covers in one set of pajamas split between: you in one of his shirts with nothing underneath, and him in sweatpants with nothing on top. 

Soonyoung insists that Pirates of the Caribbean is his comfort movie, something about Kiera Knightly with a gun being his sexual awakening (which explains a lot), and you let him put it on the tiny screen of his laptop with plans to fall asleep in the first five minutes.

His lips are at your temple, a dull pressure that makes your blood hum. “I always wanted to be a pirate growing up.”

“Really?” you ask, edging towards unconsciousness from the lazy drag of his fingers on your hip.

“Yeah,” he agrees, eyes glued to the screen. “Have my own ship, no rules, a bunch of sexy wenches.”

“Half naked women with scurvy were a part of your career plan?”

“Okay, maybe I added those just now but my point stands.”

The picture of Soonyoung with a scar on his chest and one of those ruffled linen shirts straight off the cover of a dime novel some grandma would read on the train with no shame isn’t that bad. Actually, it’s pretty sexy. But you won’t feed his delusions.

“What point?”

He rolls on top of you, face open with grave seriousness. “We should role play. Me as the hot pirate captain, you as the beautiful princess. Forbidden love, enemies type stuff. You run away from being royal and end up joining my crew. Oh no, Captain Hoshi, I had no idea this was your room! What an impressive sword!” he squeals in a breathy mock of you.

“And then,” you gasp. “you come in five minutes and I convince everyone to throw you overboard?”

“Hurtful. But I’m willing to forgive you if you call me captain. Just once.”

He’s close enough to kiss, lips pouted as he waits for you to give into his demand. A gentle peck bordering on domestic makes him sigh, the taste of toothpaste lingering on his breath. Just as you think you’ve distracted him away from such an ridiculous idea, he leans back with a gleam in his eye that says he’ll wait all night if you make him.

“How about we roleplay falling asleep?” you sigh, eyes closed against his expectant gaze.

“Nope, too late. I’m thinking about you wearing nothing but a pirate hat and now I’m hard.”

He curls right into the meat of your thigh, hot and ready to go if you give the word. Sleep is tempting but the thought of a quick tumble wakes you up enough to entertain him. 

“Alright, but you’re doing all the work,” you sigh. “Take off my clothes, captain.”

Pausing to let the idea settle, he shakes his head. “That’s actually not as hot as I thought it would be.”

“Oh, fuck off,” you fuff. “I’m watching the movie.”

You try to shove him away with zero intent to actually let him go anywhere and end up pinned, fingers in a tight grip around your wrists that you pretend to fight against. Soonyoung knows you like to be reminded of his strength on occasion; whether thats fucking your mouth until your throat burns or bending you over. This potentially being one since he’s had a hard day and you’re hungover from making him feel better about it. 

He tongues across your pulse until you go pliant against the pillows, legs spread to cradle his hips. A shuffle of clothes and a lift of your hips and he’d be inside you. There's more steps; a condom, a little fingering because his dick was made to stretch your limits. Your legs shake already, desperate for quick fuck so you can passout while Soonyoung cleans you up. 

But his new mood means he’s making up for lost time. Presently, that's bunching your shirt up to your chin and tracing each inch of newly uncovered skin with his tongue.

“Hellooooo ladies,” he sighs, nose buried between your breasts.

“God, you’re lame.”

“Be nice to me, I had a hard day,” he pouts, releasing your hands in favor of plucking at your chest until you sigh in delight.

“I’m literally letting you—hmmm— see my boobs after you said that corny shit. How much nicer can I be?”

He doesn’t answer, choosing to coax a low groan out of your chest with passes of his mouth until you're kicking the sheets. The good kind of sting that ruts your hips against his thigh and makes you dizzy. There will be a permanent wet patch if he doesn’t give you relief soon.

“I have a few ideas.”

“Like what?” You twitch at the thoughts running rampant. Short of donning that pirate hat mentioned earlier, anything he suggests is guaranteed to make you feel better too. 

“Can show you better than I can tell you,” he bites into your nipple, sucking it to a stiff peak for his fingers to pinch before shifting focus to the other. 

“If you try and put your dick in my ass I’ll rip it off.” The words are breathy off your lips. No real threat because he might be able to talk you into the idea if you let him. If he keeps pulling your strings the way he’s learned how. 

But Soonyoung has different ideas, pulling off your nipple with a rough suck, curling your shoulders in. “That was one time and it was an accident!”

“Let me slip a finger in next time I blow you and tell me how you like it.”

“You have and I do. Keep talking about it and I’m gonna need another shower.”

“God, you’re a freak.” 

“Yeah, yeah.” He takes the initiative to roll you on top, palms massaging your ass while enjoying the view of you naked in his lap. 

A sudden moment of vulnerability roots in your chest, warmed by the set of brown eyes peering up at you. “You know I don’t just come here for this, right?” 

Soonyoung’s eyebrows twist for a moment and then soften. “I know. I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have—”

“It’s fine,” you cut him off, not ready for anything deeper. The air is already thicker with the weight of that confession, suffocating. In an effort not to drown in it, you drop your chest flat to his, latching onto the jut of his collarbone. “Is this your big idea? Me on top? Not very original.”

A hand at your ass drags you along his covered cock, already begging for attention. It’s not original but you’ll dry hump him into the mattress until your bones are jelly if he wants. 

“Sit on my face.”

It’s your turn to pull back. “What?”

“Sit. On. My. Face.” His hand is already firm against your thighs, forcing you halfway up his chest before you can argue.

“I heard you the first time, just confused how that's supposed to make you feel better.”

“You underestimate the power of your pussy. Now get up here.” 

The shuffle up is less than sexy. Soonyoung is eager from your permission, rushing you up to his mouth until you nearly knee him in the head.

“Wait,” you say. 

Soonyoung locks his arms as you move off him, reflexive because he lets go a second later. Turning, you eye the tent in his pants as you kneel back down. Perfect position to touch him while he touches you.

“Oh, fuck,” he grunts, fingers tracing through your wetness despite the horrible angle.

You don’t get a chance to orient yourself. He’s already quick to work with teasing passes of his tongue that turn bolder every second. 

“Jesus Christ, give me a second to get your dick out.”

But he doesn’t; too consumed with tasting all you have to offer, wringing you out to dry the second he gets a chance. The flat of his tongue laps up your arousal like it’s more vital than oxygen. There's a wet mess smeared between your thighs from the vigor. 

It takes all your focus to force down his pants, mouth watering at the shiny head of his cock straining from some heavy petting. You keep steady with one hand, jerking him off into your mouth with the other. Soonyoung malfunctions between your thighs as you swallow his cock, a moan right to your clit makes you fumble that last inch into your mouth.

He chokes you with a buck up but you take it in stride. Sucking harder, lashing against the slit until he whimpers. Normally, you’d exaggerate the wet noises at the back of your throat but with the crude dig of his tongue in your entrance there's no need. 

“God,” you warble into his crotch. You arch back into his face, Soonyoung’s fingers digging into the meat of your ass, spreading you out like a full course meal.

In theory it’s hot. Your cunt on his face and his cock in your throat, rutting against each other until you're numb and twitching and covered in each other's mess. In practicality, there is nothing Soonyoung is more relentlessly dedicated to than eating you out until your vision turns white and you have to force him away or risk passing out. It only takes a few minutes before you’re forced to tap out, panting into his thigh and weakly fisting his length with no regard for the mess sticking between your knuckles, as he fucks you along his tongue.

“Gonna come, oh–fuck,” you choke. You want him to come too, in your mouth, on your face if that's what he wants. But by some glitch in the universe, Soonyoung is able to hold back and you’re the one racing to the finish first. “Oh my god, Soonyoung, fuck.”

You jerk him off, grip tight despite the slick mess of spit and pre-cum. It doesn’t help that ever squeeze at the swollen head sends a moan straight into your clit, forcing you hips to rut desperately. 

“Don’t stop. Just, shit – need a little more—”

You pull one his hands away to take over your short strokes, spitting into his palm and squeezing until he figures out what you want; to watch him touch himself while eating you out. The contrast of his fingers tangled between your own, both glistening because Soonyoung is just as close as you are, gets you there.

“Close.” Thighs locked, you suffocate him but Soonyoung doesn’t complain. A palm at the base of your spine forces you down when you shy away from the edge. “Oh, oh, oh!”

A sting of your nails into his thigh is all the warning either of you get. Back arched tight, eyes clenched, you shudder through it. Soonyoung doesn’t stop, sucking away the fresh wave of arousal, tongue verging on punishing against your clit as you sink.

“Okay, that's enough—god,” your voice breaks. “Enough.”

You fall to the side, face first into the covers without effort to soften the blow. The lower half of your body is numb but you can feel his hand skating up the back of your calf.

“Good?” he asks, all too aware of the issue; the smirk is clear in his tone, happy to see you strung out from a few minutes on his mouth.

“Shut up,” you warn but the bite isn’t in it. The urge to kick him in the head is there but none of the energy. 

“Are you tapping out on me or…?” 

The sound of the drawer pauses in case you say no but the idea of not feeling him inside you sounds like the worst thing you’ve ever heard.

“You’re not that good,” you mumble into the blanket. “Fuck me like this, you promised you’d do all the work. Remember?”

“Like this?” he hums, rubbing the head of his cock back through the mess with admiration. 

He obeys with a wet kiss to your shoulder, parting your legs and sliding between without a word. You soak in the stretch, ass arched into his hips to take it all. The cold bites down your back when Soonyoung leans back to watch.

“Fuck, you’re so tight,” he whines. “Shit.” 

He drives into you with a bruising pace, betrayed by his own need to come after having you on his mouth without a tease of relief. You arch into it, the head of his cock dragging deep inside pushing disgusting noises from your lips you pray his roommates aren’t around to hear.

“Spank me.”

He loses it for a second. A rough thrust pushing you down the bed and he scrambles to follow. “Seriously?” 

“Do it,” you bark. 

The first strike is weak. More of a firm caress than the sting you crave; hesitant to push for too much too fast lest you take away any privilege he has.

“Harder.”

The next impact comes hard enough to burn an outline of his hand. And another one that makes your tongue feel too big for your own mouth.

“Oh, fuck, yeah,” you whine. “More.”

Arms pinned beneath your torso, all you can do is lay there and take it. Nerves gone, he spanks you like it’s second nature. Like he’s thought about it before.

“Good?” he asks. Sounds more like a beg for validation. That he’s the one driving you crazy, molding your insides to his cock until it’s all you can think about.

“So good, f–fuck me so good.”

“Yeah?” he breathes against your neck, a hand wedging beneath your hips to drag against your clit in messy strokes. “You’re so hot, fuck.”

There will be a bruise to hide come morning but you can’t care. The slap of his hips against your ass, the flame of his hand still lingering on your ass, his cock drilling your insides; there's no room for anything but Soonyoung, Soonyoung, Soonyoung.

You arch your back to feel him deeper only to have him pull out completely on the next stroke.

“No!” you protest, racing to keep him inside. 

It’s no use, Soonyoung flips you on your back before you can convince him otherwise. He hooks your knees over his elbows, spreading you wide and driving home in one smooth push with his teeth at your neck.

“Gonna come,” he begs, voice weak. You know his game, what makes him tick and come so hard he goes blind.

“Not yet,” you warn. A rough twist in his hair only works against his thinning resolve and that's exactly why you pull harder until his hips kick into a jilted rhythm.

“I can’t – please – I can’t—”

“Not yet,” you gasp. He’s deep, right in the back of your throat making you foggy. “Be a g–good boy and wait until I tell you.”

Hips frantic, voice cracking, he tries to hold off; knows it's better when you tell him exactly what to do. Makes him choke into your chest.“Fuck, fuck!” 

“Tell me how bad you want it. How much you love this pussy.”

“Love it, love your pussy.” He folds in half on top of you, desperate. Every drive of his cock into your center forcing your own desperate noises out. “Please let me come for you.”

“Look at me,” you demand. The command in your voice is paper thin but you're both too lost. His eyes are glassy, frantic to do whatever you ask if it means he can come. “Beg for it.”

“P–please,” he whimpers through gritted teeth. “Please let me come. Need it, wanna come. Please. Please!”

He’s too good to edge. Perfectly pliant to any demand and it makes you want to give him whatever he wants. “Give it to me. Fuck me through it. Let me feel you come for me.”

He latches onto your breast, sucking your nipple as his hips turn sloppy. The squeak of mattress springs are a sound track to his end. You won’t come again but you don’t need to. Satiated with the choked whimpers of your name as he swells against your walls, forcing himself as deep as possible like he’s fucking you raw and full of his cum.

Maybe someday you’ll let him.

Your hips are sore from being forced in half so long but you won’t move away until Soonyoung comes back down. Less from your own will power, more because you’re running on fumes and might fall asleep with him still inside you. He gives a few more pathetic twitches and then goes slack.

“Oh my god,” he groans. “I can’t feel my legs.”

“Welcome to the club,” 

With the grand finale complete, your aching muscles give out completely. You can’t even laugh when one of his hands moves to check your pulse.

“Oh my god,” Soonyoung gasps. “I killed you with my dick.”

“You didn’t kill me.” You slap away his hand weakly. Without distraction, the stickiness of your skin from sweat in the worst places settles in but it’s a problem for later.

“A man can dream,” he says wistfully.

“Of homicide by cock?”

“Of dick game strong enough to murder someone.”

He rubs his nose along yours, breathes mingling in a lazy kiss as exhaustion creeps over your both. 

“Your face smells like pussy.” You slouch into the mattress, deadweight while taking all of his like the perfect blanket.

He kisses you again, tongue teasing at your lips until you give the very real threat of teeth against it and he backs away. “Your mouth tastes like cock so I guess we’re even. C'mon we need to shower again.”

“Nooooooo,” you grumble, clinging to him in an effort to delay the chill waiting to invade between you.

“At least let me get a rag.”

Your legs tighten around his waist, locked at the ankle for dramatic effect. “If you pull out I’ll cry.”

“Words every man wants to hear,” he hums into your cheek with a kiss. “But my dick is sore and we both need to sleep.”

“Fine.”

When he pulls away you feel empty; devastatingly so. But you don’t ask him to comeback. Just pout at the loss and revel in placating pampering you receive in return.

He goes through the steps with familiarity. Wiping away the mess between your legs, tossing your shirt back up from the floor but you forgo it, choosing to sleep naked much to Soonyoung’s delight.

You use his chest as a pillow, curled into his side and tucked under his chin. The steady beat of his heart lulls you off. The last thing you register, on the hazy perimeter at the edge of sleep, is his fingers at your cheek and the ghost of a kiss on your forehead.

Taglist: @tomodachiii @cvpidyunho @miniseokminnies @ddaengpotate @arycutie

@gaebestie @primoppang @gyuguys @mine-gyu @doremifasire

@missminhoe @toplinehyunjin @crvs4vldtn @prettygyuuu @sliceofwoozi @writingbarnes

@dokyeomkyeom @christinewithluv @minwonfairy @idkjustlovingbts @wobblewobble822 @futuristicenemychaos

@seungkw1 @horanghaezone @jespecially @gyuwoosbabie @dinossaurz

@wonustars

© highvern. copying/reuploading/translating my work anywhere is strictly prohibited.

[samcarpentersgirlfriend]

SAFE AND SOUND || MICKEY ALTIERI X READER 𖤐₊˚.

summary: after getting a call from the supposed killer on campus, you call your boyfriend mickey to help you feel better.

warnings: gender neutral reader, pet names (babe, baby), ghostface!mickey with oblivious!reader, fluff I guess?? but not when you think abt it lol

word count: 1.1k

a/n: mickey altieri my beloved <33 I wrote this a couple a days ago and I’m gonna start w requests now, so if you’ve requested something it’s hopefully coming soon :)

⨯ . ⁺ ✦ ⊹ ꙳ ⁺ ‧ ⨯. ⁺ ✦ ⊹ . * ꙳ ✦ ⊹

As you step out of the police car outside your dorm building, your head is still reeling. You can’t help but replay the phone call you received merely an hour ago, where the supposed killer on campus called your phone and described - in detail - all the sick ways they were going to make you scream. You’d thought it was a joke at first, but when the caller was able to recall what you wearing in perfect detail - your boyfriend’s old Star Wars shirt and a pair of grey sweatpants - you knew that whoever the freak was, they were really watching you. It made you sick to your stomach.

The nausea still hasn’t completely resided, and as the cops tell that you’ll that they’ll look into it and to call them if you’re contacted again you simply nod your head, dazed.

They drive off, leaving you alone in the dark outside your building. You know nobody’s stupid enough to try anything now, not when the police are still close enough that if you scream, they’ll come driving straight back. Still, that doesn’t stop you from looking over your shoulder when you enter the building or nervously fiddling with your keys as you go up the stairs.

You open your door and call for your roommate, but you’re met with nothing but silence. Sighing, you make a beeline for your bedroom, shrugging off your coat and kicking of your shoes before practically diving onto your bed.

You breathe in.

You breathe out.

You’re fine. The doors are locked, the windows are locked and you’re completely safe inside here.

That doesn’t stop you from feeling on edge, though.

You pick up the phone on your bedside table and dial the number you need from memory.

“Hello?” Mickey says after a few rings.

“Hi Mickey,” you murmur, your voice shaking.

“Oh, hey babe,” he pauses a minute, assessing your tone, “what’s wrong?”

And that’s all it takes for you to burst into tears, your voice indiscernible through the sobs.

“Hey, hey,” Mickey says firmly. “I’m coming over, okay? Just hold on for ten minutes.”

You nod your head - although you know Mickey can’t see you - before he hangs up, leaving you alone with your thoughts.

⊹₊┈ㆍ┈ㆍ┈ㆍ✿ㆍ┈ㆍ┈ㆍ┈₊⊹

He’s true to his word and almost ten minutes later there’s a knock at your front door. As soon as you open it Mickey envelops you in a hug, strong arms wrapped around your frame. You’d mostly stopped crying now, but that didn’t mean you felt any better.

“It’s okay,” Mickey soothes, “I’m here now. Why don’t you tell me what’s wrong?”

You pull away and lead Mickey to your bedroom, sighing as you sink onto your bed.

“The killer called,” you start, “he called and said that he could see me - and he could - and he said he was gonna gut me like a fish before he slit my throat and-“

“He what?” Mickey questions, his eyebrows knitting together in a frown. “Babe, why didn’t you tell me before?”

“I was going to, but I called the police straight after and then they took me in for questioning, so…” you trail off, avoiding your boyfriend’s gaze.

“Hey, I’m not mad,” he says clearly, his expression softening. “I get it. I just can’t believe somebody would do that to you.” he looks away for a moment, almost as if contemplating whether or not to continue. “Do you think it was the real thing or just some stupid prank?

You laugh bitterly. “Yeah, real funny prank. And even if it was just a joke, they could see me, Mick. They knew what I was wearing, they used my name - they still could’ve hurt me.”

“I wouldn’t let that happen.” He says it gently but with undeniable force behind it as he leans over to cup your face. “I’d fucking kill them if they tried to lay a single finger on you.”

“My knight in shining armour,” you mutter, causing Mickey to smile and press his lips to yours. He’s gentle - like he has been throughout the rest of the night - as if he’s worried like you’ll fall apart at any second.

“I love you,” you murmur into the kiss, and you mean it. Ever since you’d started to get close to Mickey, he’d been your rock. You’d been inseparable a mere few weeks after meeting, once you got over his initial abrasiveness. Because once you really got to know him, he was a great friend -and an even better boyfriend.

“I know,” he replies, pulling away and settling for laying his head on your shoulder instead. “See, Star Wars reference!” he points out, gesturing to your - well, his - shirt. God, your boyfriend was such a nerd.“That was my favourite, by the way. Am I ever getting it back?”

“Nope,” you tease, popping the “p”. “I’m too attached.“ You absentmindedly run your fingers through his hair, twisting brown strands around your fingers.

“Damn it.” mickey says quietly, making a show of fake-pouting.

You both sit there in silence for a while, Mickey’s head still on your shoulder. It isn’t awkward - it never is with Mickey - and you both just lay there on the bed. You’re feeling better about the phone call you’d received earlier, but you can’t help but remain curious.

“Mickey?” you question. He hums in response and you go on.

“Do you think the caller would’ve gone through with it? With the threats, I mean?”

He lifts his head up to look at you, his expression near unreadable.

“What makes you ask that, baby?”

“I don’t know. It’s just-“ you sigh in frustration. “Why call me? I haven’t done anything to anyone, so why go through all of the effort to threaten me and scare me if he wasn’t gonna kill me? I mean, that guy in the movie theatre was stabbed through the head. This killer, he’s- he’s brutal. By that logic, I should be dead.”

“But you’re not,” Mickey says as he squeezes your hand. “Maybe he wanted to rile you up, make it so you would be constantly looking over your shoulder. Maybe he was just trying to live out his bullshit fantasies. Maybe he just was too much of a fucking pussy to do anything to you. Who knows?” he shrugs. “Point is, you’re still here, and that’s all that matters. You can’t let this sick fuck get to you, alright? You’re better than that, and it’s probably exactly what he wants.”

You sigh once more. Mickey’s right. Of course he is. There’s no point of pondering over all the “what if’s” now.

“Stay with me tonight?” you ask your boyfriend. “It’d make me feel better.”

“‘Course,” he smiles, pressing a kiss to your temple. “You know you’re safe here with me.”

“I do,” you affirm as you twist your body so that your head is on his chest. You can hear his heartbeat now, steady and strong. “You know I do.”

Mickey laughs once more before he laces his fingers with yours, his firm grip the last thing you feel before your eyes flutter closed and you start to drift off into sleep.





[mistywaves98]

✧･ﾟ:* ->Bully! Xiao x Fem! Reader

✧･ﾟ:* ->¡Warnings!: Modern AU, Non con, dark themes, slight yandere, Dacryphilia, Edging turned to Overstimulation, Repitition of words, Dumbification, Forced stuff, Non consensual groping, Fingering, Degradation, I think that's it!

✧･ﾟ:* -> Week 3 of my 400 special! I tried to write some detailed descriptions but I don't think they came out well...hope you enjoy anyway!

✧･ﾟ:* Minor writing smut! DNI if uncomfy!

✧･ﾟ:* Reblogs are greatly appreciated!

He didn't really know why he disliked you so much. Was it because you were at the top of the class? Hmph, teacher's pet. Maybe it was because you had friends, but he was probably the only person in the school that didn't have any. Or perhaps it was the way you were so fucking perfect. Too perfect, everytime he looked at you he wanted to ruin you, to wipe that blinding smile of your face, to rip those expensive outfits you wore, to destroy your reputation among your classmates. But at the same time, he wanted to get close to you, to get to know you and eventually have you under him, squirming in pleasure as his cock plunges in an out of you. Such thought makes his heart flutter but then the actual sight of you makes him want to throw up.

So what does he do? Why make your live a living hell of course! Roughly shoving you against lockers whenever he passed next to you, refusing to help or lend you anything to you in class or in general, always making snide comments whenever you did something clumsy or stupid. His favourite was tripping you up in the cafeteria in front of everyone, seeing the tears flow down your face in humiliation as you look up at him briefly before running out filled him with a sick sense of joy.

Soon you'd find none of your friends wanted to speak to you, in fact, none of your classmates, especially the guys, wanted anything to do with you. Because guess what, a certain someone was spreading rumors about you being nothing but a slut who only gets close to guys to have sex with them and nothing you said could change their minds. And that certain someone just happens to be the only one that 'cares' about your existence. 'Caring' meaning the bullying the life out of you even more, and what was worse was that now everyone laughed with him whenever he decided to humiliate you, which seemed to be happening a lot ever since you've become a loner.

And just when you thought life couldn't get any worser, your teacher told you you'd be staying in the same dorm as him. Upon hearing those words your face dropped and your head snapped in his direction only to be met with a smile that sent feelings of dread down your spine. It was as bad as you expected it to be. He made you do all the chores, saying that unless you wanted him to ruin your life even more than he already has you can go ahead and try to defy him.

But the weird thing was that Xiao seemed to get rather, touchy ever since you became roommates with him. Sure you had your own room and bed to sleep in, but he would always force you to sleep with him instead. You didn't like the idea at all but there was nothing you could do to free yourself from the two arms secured firmly around your stomach and the more you struggled the more bone- crushing it became. But that wasn't even the worst part. Often he would randomly latch on to you and literally feel you up like if you were lovers. He was so smug when he did it too, knowing that you knew that if you told anyone, you'd really be in for it. It happened a lot when you were cleaning the dorm as well. You'd be on all fours, scrubbing the floor before you feel two hands cage you in and something hard press against your ass. You've told him many times to stop but he'd never listen, saying that if you didn't want it, why the fuck were you so wet?

It was a lovely Saturday morning...key word, was. It probably still be one if you weren't pinned to the floor on your back with your bully on top of you, fingers plunging in and out of your pussy like there was no tomorrow. Sweat covered your body and dropped down your face, everything felt too hot. You felt the knot in your stomach tighten and you were just about to release when you felt the movement in your pussy stop. You whined pathetically, tears staining your face once more as you were denied yet another orgasm for what felt like the 5th time tonight.

A chuckle came from the male above you,"Aww, do you wanna cum? I thought you didn't want that? Now you do? Maybe if you beg hard enough or maybe if I feel like it I can give you what I want, but personally, I simply can't get enough of you when you're like this." "P-please...please let me cum, I-I promise I'll be good." "Hmm....since I feel like it I'll let you cum, but next time I won't be so nice."

And then the fingers were once again shoved into your pussy, sloppily moving in and out until you felt the build up of another orgasm. Your back arched as you finally achieved that sweet, sweet release that you were kept from. Your legs spasmed and your tongue lolled out of your mouth as your juices coated the carpet beneath you. You tried to move, only to be pulled back down by Xiao who had a frown on his face,"Don't think you can just take your pleasure and then leave selfish slut."

You felt dread pooling in the pit of your stomach as you felt him press the head of his cock that was already soaked with pre cum against your entrance. With no warning, he snapped his hips forward, bottoming out instantly. Two fingers were immediately forced into your mouth to somewhat muffle your scream of pain. "Hmph. I thought I prepared you enough, but you're still as tight as ever. If I didn't know better, I'd still think you were a virgin." A smirk graced his features and you knew why.

As soon as you admitted you hadn't had sex yet, Xiao pounced on you like a predator would do to its prey. Him being the first one to touch you like this was an opportunity he wasn't going to let slip by. He took so much delight in corrupting your inexperienced self and he didn't bother to hide it.

You were brought out of your reminiscing when he began to move. His thrusts were so fast and filled with so much force your body rocked back and forth. It wasn't long before you knew he was getting close to orgasming, you could tell from the way he slowed down a bit, but managed to hit somewhere deep inside of you. You whimpered as he bit into your neck hard, your hands flew to weakly grasp his sweaty hair as he sucked on the blood the trickled out of the wound.

When he was satisfied with the mark he made, he licked a long stripe from the hickey to right under your jaw. He pressed a few light kisses to the area, removing his fingers before connecting both of your lips in a hungry kiss. Teeth clacked against each other and his tongue dove into your mouth, exploring every inch of it.

Suddenly there was an explosion of warmth in your lower region and you realized he had finally came, but the determined look on his face told you that he wouldn't be stopping anytime soon.

And for what felt like hours, orgasm after orgasm was pulled from your abused cunt, you clawed at the floor mindlessly feeling your brain turn to mush everytime you came. Your face was downright laughable, to Xiao anyway. You looked so fucked out and he loved it. He loved the way your legs twitched and spasmed even when you weren't cumming, he loved how you couldn't even form a coherent sentence, he loved how broken and worn down you looked in front of him.

And in the end, no one would ever guess Xiao was doing such things, to you especially, not with the way he seemed to completely despise you when in public, if only they saw what went on behind closed doors...

[tinyarmedtrex]

Roommates/blind date

Jesper glanced behind him, making eye contact with his roommate, Wylan. The man gave a shrug that said he didn't have any information. Jesper gave him what he hoped was an encouraging smile before turning back to the bar. He was only there for emotional support, though that wasn’t exactly how Wylan had put it. 

“Come with and make sure I don’t get kidnapped.” Wylan had asked him earlier that day as he got ready for his blind date. He had been showing Jesper all his outfit options, all of which Jesper thought were far too good for someone who didn’t even know Wylan. They probably wouldn’t even appreciate how the pink matched his blush or how the purple brought out his eyes. 

“Fine but you’re paying for my drinks.” Jesper had said. Though he would have gone without that. He wanted to see what the man looked like. Nina had promised Wylan that the date was Wylan's type but wouldn’t give him any more details than that. So far, Jesper wasn’t impressed. The man was already ten minutes late. Rude. Jesper would never be late for a date with Wylan. Wylan deserved better.

Jesper glanced back at Wylan again. The other man was glaring at something on his phone, probably a hard level on one of his games. It was adorable. The tip of his tongue was sticking out and his eyebrows were pushed together. Jesper wanted to walk over and run his thumb over Wylan’s brow to smooth it out. 

At that moment the bartender brought over his drink. Jesper took a long draw, reminding himself that he didn't have that right. They were roommates. Nothing more. He couldn’t afford to forget that, especially when Wylan was waiting to meet the potential love of his life. The thought soured Jesper’s stomach. 

He waited another few minutes before looking back again. When he did he saw that Wylan's date had finally appeared. Jesper’s jaw dropped. He could have been Jesper’s less attractive, less fashionable twin. They were the same build, tall and lanky, and had the same dark skin. The date had longer hair and higher cheekbones but, fuck, in this dim bar lighting they could easier pass for each other. 

Jesper looked to see what Wylan thought of this imposter. He was giggling at something his date said, his eyes bright as a gentle flush covered his cheeks. 

Seeing that, Jesper drained his drink. Whatever he’d expected it wasn’t that. Jealousy rolled through him. He watched for another few minutes, hating every time that Wylan smiled or laughed.

“My drinks are on him.” Jesper said, slapping down money for a tip. He wasn’t going to stay and watch Wylan flirt with a B-rated version of him. He went back to their apartment and fired up the xbox, deciding to shoot zombies until he felt better.

Two hours passed (not that he was counting) then he heard Wylan’s keys in the door. He paused his game, watching as Wylan entered the apartment. He didn’t looked disheveled, his shirt was still tucked in and his hair was still in perfect curls. It made Jesper feel marginally better.

“How did it go?” Jesper drawled, trying to pretend that he didn’t care. 

“Fine. He was nice.” 

Jesper stood, following Wylan to the kitchen. “Are you going to go on a second date?” He wanted all the details. He wanted to know what Wylan thought, what his date had said to make him laugh.

Wylan finished pouring himself a glass of water then turned to him. “Why do you care?” 

Anger rolled through Jesper. “Well I deserve to know if I’m going to see my stunt double walking around the apartment one morning.”

“Stunt double?”

Jesper nodded. “I’m clearly more attractive but he could pass for me, in a pinch.”

That earned a level one flush, just Wylan’s cheeks and the tip of his nose turned pink. “I didn’t notice.” He mumbled.

Jesper moved closer. “Really? Wylan, he could be my brother.” 

Wylan’s eyes fell as he played with the rim of his water cup. “I guess.” 

“Was it a good date?” At this point Jesper was just being cruel to himself, poking the jealous bear within him. “I saw that he made you blush.”

Wylan’s eyes shot up. "It's really none of your business what he said." He started to move past Jesper but bumped into him on accident. Jesper reached out, easily catching Wylan in his arms. 

The two shared a long look before Jesper dropped his arms. "You're right. It's not. I'm glad you had a good time."

Something passed over Wylan's face, an expression that Jesper couldn't read. He softened, his anger disappearing. "Thanks. I- I think I'll go to bed now."

Jesper nodding, watching as Wylan walked to his room, mad at himself for being unable to say what he actually felt.

'Pick me!' His heart shouted uselessly. 'If that's your type, pick me!'

[zalrb]

the summer i turned pretty 2x02 review

"Put this on" and she doesn't put it on. So then what's the point. FOR THE CHIVALRY, ZAL. THE CHIVALRY.

Oh, is this the episode they have sex?

Why would Belly know where Conrad's dorm is though?

Jeremiah didn't take the coffee you offered him but why does that mean you have to throw out your coffee too?

Ah, one Black/dark-skinned guy.

He is literally the best actor on the show so far and he's only here to be Conrad's roommate.

Exposition time: "He fell into a depression and was looking at your picture!" like who says that? If anything it would've been like, Ohhhhh you're Belly and that's it. Belly would be like "What's that supposed to mean?" and then you can be like "Nothing, nothing, just you know, it really fucked Conrad up when you two broke up." Like just make the dialogue a LITTLE natural??

THE INFINITY NECKLACE. Honestly, who cares.

"I know even though he won't say it" we don't NEED a voiceover here, oh my god, Scorsese can't be the only one who uses voiceovers properly.

How is it possible to care even less about Belly's brother and her mother when I care so little about Belly and this ridiculous triangle.

I skipped through this conversation because it's painful af.

I always find it rude when people turn on music in other people's cars lmao.

"Cause I'm always here if you ever need to talk." *suddenly starts talking* if it was that easy then why do this whole thing anyway.

At least Taylor is good at keeping up with Belly's lies but Belly why wouldn't you text Taylor the lie you said to your mom? Amateur shit man.

If you guys know each other so well wouldn't he know that you could do something like change a tire? And I'm not saying he has to know everything about her but they don't seem to know anything about each other.

The details on this show are horrendous.

Also a spare can only take you so far, you would still need to go to a mechanic to change the tire.

Belly, you were my best friend! WAS SHE?

This is the flattest argument. They're not even talking over each other, everything is SO contained.

If you hate yourself for forgetting him then I need more emotion. And he is STRUGGLING for a tear.

And she manages a tear when he's like you weren't there, you left me but her face is so flat, that's why I keep saying crying is about more than tears, like both of you should be DEVASTATED. At the VERY LEAST I should be getting Bellarke from these or from her and Conrad (ha, which I also said when watching Shadow and Bone)

I know it's supposed to have been like a while since the two of them have spoken but it doesn't feel that way so their resolution happens SO quickly i'm like why even there be a "chasm" in the first place.

How are Bella and Jacob better than this?

Wait, how did they get their tire fixed?

Everyone is so bad at trying to act natural around each other.

"You always could read my mind" I MEAN COULD HE?

Just because you guys say it doesn't mean we SEE it.

Belly! omg Nicole! Everything sounds SO fake.

Why wouldn't you grab something from like a gas station on the way? You're just going to hope for Oreos? Also Conrad you had to drive four hours from Brown to wherever she lives you didn't pick up supplies on the way?

*gasp* hot cocoa! "amazing!" i mean,, is it?

again conrad/belly are supposed to be matt and julie on the couch

or they're supposed to be ryan and marissa by the pool

or jake and peyton just being themselves

and there's just such a coldness to them. and i know he's doing that whole focus on her because he's suddenly serious and intense and it's NOT PLATONIC but it doesn't work when you don't have chemistry and are only capable of one facial expression.

of course a taylor swift song is playing.

they're trying SO HARD to be happy, like jeyton has great chemistry but i remember that one scene when they're in savannah and hilarie just overacts

and that's what it is watching belly all the time while conrad is just standing around being jughead or jon looking at daenerys, i just i can't. i caaaaaaaan't.

and i've just seen too many play fights

and the love scene, the lighting is doing the work and so is desiree because that's the song they use in leo dicaprio's romeo + juliet and also it's a clear call back pjo's love scene

but as much as i have issues with pjo's narrative so much about this is earned because there are callbacks, like i know i don't know the whole context of this show and of this ship but it seems like the only thing is the necklace whereas joey calls back to the time when pacey is like i'm going to count to ten and then i'm going to start kissing you etc. and brings it up IN dialogue then she whispers before the kiss, "my love" and belly's just here being like "no i know, no i want to" your voice should be different, it shouldn't just be like a regular conversation, like neither of you have conviction in your voices

"what is she doing here?" are you torn are you mad or are you just saying the line, sir?

oh good, it's over.

[tangiblejournal56]

6/25/11

Sitting on my bed, art supplies & books surrounding me, “Eli the Barrow Boy” playing softly, the tsch-tsch sound of my dangling paper cranes as the fan makes them dance.  It’s too late to be considered Saturday still, soon dawn will be creeping in through my window with its heat & glare.  I hope to be long asleep by then, dreaming of Max as I continually do these days.  The dreams help, the need to see his face, hear his voice, subsides slightly.  A fraction.  A hair.  Not at all, really.

Today was spent on buses, wandering around Austin with Jacob.  Stopping in at the grocery store, his shock & celebration over his vegan chili on sale, unheard of prices, he was so damn happy.  Plans for a big chili dinner ensued.  Once home, already dark out, we went to the pool with our beer & cigarettes, spending two hours floating & discussing particle accelerators, the Tsar Bomba, aerogel, physics.  Favorite topics of his, how he enjoyed teaching me about these subjects so foreign to me.  How skilled I am in discovering people’s passions & letting them discuss those passions to their hearts’ content, how I use that skill to endear myself to them.  Not that I need to do so with Jacob, when drunk as well as sober he will tell me he adores me.  As if it weren’t evident in how endlessly he teases me over all my neuroses & silliness.  All for my reactions, disgust, exasperation, “Jaaacob, doooon’t!”  I was never very feminine until around him so constantly.  Now I shave my legs daily, I clean all the time, I attempt to cook for his as he is as helpless as I am in front of a stove.  Somehow I am terrified to let him see me unladylike, though he is the last person to care about those things.  I’m not even trying to get him to fall for me, I have no interest in dating him.  To what end do these things matter?

We slept together once again.  He brought home a large bottle of cheap vodka & we became spectacularly drunk, watching a documentary on an inventor & architect.  Then down to the pool, swimming & playing water games with the young children.  When they’d gone to bed, we became flirtatious, he grabbing my breasts, myself touching his junk as well.  Back inside, I tried to help him change into his pajamas, & somehow this led to sex.  When I tried closing my eyes & imagining Max, for a few moments I actually enjoyed it.  How awful is that to admit?  I sleep with him so he won’t be lonely, & so I won’t let my feelings of attraction for him go too far.  A very strange sort of irony.  There was one enjoyable moment, I admit, he was teasing me, holding back, & when I’d beg him for it, he’d grin, “No.”  He really liked teasing me, that glimmer in his eyes, that sexy grin.  Again wanting a reaction.  Then after, both retreating to our own beds.  It’s odd, this little pattern we’ve developed.  I don’t see it occurring often, I’m always surprised by its existence.  I would bet it doesn’t happen again.  I am quite taken aback, though, that despite other girls (Spill, to be specific) wanting this, he chose me for his fuck buddy.  Perhaps because of my ability to keep my private life private.  Though I did quietly admit it to Josh tonight.  “I don’t want to say I expected it, but I kind’ve knew it was a possibility,” was his reaction.

Jacob & I also discussed the baby for a little bit tonight.  I didn’t know if he’d even known about it, which he did.  “Uh, everyone knew,” he said in his blunt but not rude way.  He said he’d wanted to bring it up before, hadn’t gotten around to it yet.  Not much was said, a few random details here & there.  It was a pretty comfortable conversation.  I don’t think I could conceive of a better roommate than him, we are completely compatible, cooking together, playing board games, even laying on the living room floor together reading quietly.  I try to be as accommodating as possible, & he just goes with the flow of everything.  I wonder when the day will come when he is annoyed by me, & barely acknowledges me.  He is someone who needs nothing of anyone.  Even if it’s sex, I’m happy to be the person who gives him what he needs.

[lovevalley45]

#fictober22 day twelve

"You're making my head hurt"

original fiction

word count: 853

Most people, when finding out their roommate was a werewolf, would either be in utter denial or freak out on the spot. That depended on how they found out, of course. If their roommate told them, they’d deny and deny until there was irrefutable proof in front of their eyes. If they came home to a full werewolf in their living room, they would pass out within moments of processing the sight in front of them.

Josie had figured her roommate was most people, specifically when it came to the denial part. For all the time she’d known Rhiannon, she had been pursuing her Masters in biology and ruthlessly logical. She was the type of person who scoffed at Bigfoot and Mothman and detailed all the actual reasons for the phenomena surrounding their myths. 

To put it bluntly, Josie thought Rhiannon was a buzzkill. A buzzkill who was very hot when detailing why all her favorite cryptids were hoaxes, but a buzzkill nevertheless. So when she did in fact cross paths with a werewolf and made it out with her life and a story, she didn’t dare bring it up with her roommate. 

That didn’t stay a secret for long. 

She supposed she’d been wrong about Rhiannon being most people. Instead of passing out when coming back from drinking with her fellow peers, she had smacked her over the head with her laptop bag and knocked her out embarrassingly fast.

Now, Josie was slumped over a cup of coffee, feeling extremely thankful she hadn’t broken the coffee machine in her lycanthropic rampage. She was sure she might have had a concussion. Meanwhile, Rhiannon sat across from her with her hands clamped around her mug, staring off into space as she most likely processed her new reality. 

Eventually, she broke the silence. “So, how are you going to disprove this?”

Rhiannon blinked a few times, before finally prying her hands away from her mug to readjust her glasses. “Well, I… I can’t. After all-” she gestured to the wreckage of their apartment- “It’s hard to disprove all this. What can I say? Oh, it wasn’t the beast you turned into last night, just a rodent infestation?”

“They’d have to be some big rodents,” Josie muttered. 

“What happened?” Rhiannon asked. 

“Well, I was watching Netflix when it got dark out and-”

She waved her off. “No, not that.” She took out her phone and opened it to her voice recording app, leaning closer with her elbows pressed against the table. “How did you become a werewolf?”

Josie suddenly felt very nervous, with Rhiannon’s big brown eyes focused entirely on her. She didn’t think the encounter was very impressive, but she cleared her throat anyways. “I, uh, well… I was in the forest with my friend Cynthia, you know Cynthia? She wanted to go foraging and asked me to come with her so she wouldn’t get jumped in the woods. And I knew it was a full moon, so I brought my camera just in case.”

At that, Rhiannon lit up. 

“I didn’t get any good pictures, Rhi. I just… So Cynthia had gone ahead without me, and I heard this noise, and BAM! Something had me in a bear hug, and we grappled for a moment. Obviously, I wasn’t more powerful than this thing, but it got its claws into me before seemingly realizing I was a human and withdrawing. Cynthia had brought her first aid kit - God, I love her - and bandaged it up and everything. She’d used a disinfectant wipe so I kinda thought, hey, no werewolf danger here!” Josie sighed. “Guess I was wrong.”

“So it must be something stronger than a normal virus. Of course it must be,” Rhiannon muttered. 

“Hm?”

“I wanna do tests. If it’s fine with you, of course. Maybe a blood sample, a few to be safe. Then there’s all the myths.” She grinned. “Your cryptids are so easy to disprove because there’s no actual proof. Nothing that can actually be provable, at least.”

“Wait, wait-” Josie groaned. “You wanna, what, do tests on me?”

“Yes, I just said that.”

“Sorry, you’re making my head hurt. Or maybe it’s because you cracked my skull with your old-ass laptop,” she complained. 

Rhiannon exhaled. “I’m sorry for bashing you on the head. But I don’t think my laptop is enough to cause you brain damage.”

“It knocked me out!”

She waved her hand again. “Listen, Josie. This could be big. I’m not reworking my thesis for this, of course, but you always want to prove those cryptids and myths you love so much are real! And now you’re living, tangible proof!” There was a glint in her eye that made her start to fear this was her roommate’s descent into her mad biologist era. “What do you say?”

Josie considered it for a moment. She had a point, after all. And although she wasn’t psyched about blood samples or being treated like a test subject, she thought it could be pretty fun.

Also, that meant spending more time with Rhiannon. And she couldn’t complain about that.

“Alright. I’m in.”

[litanyforlove]

DayBreak Draft 2

It’s four in the morning. The sun has not risen in 3 days. I am in the kitchen of a house I share with 7 other desperately impoverished people. The lights are off, but the room is illuminated by the boiling red glow of the stove burner, On which I am super- heating a chef’s knife. The blade is gleaming white-hot and I know that very soon I’m going to get to turn it against all the things I cannot help but feel. For my sanguine work, I intend to take 16 shots of plastic bottle whisky I have procured especially for this occasion. I have taken 8 of the shots when my roommate walks into the kitchen. We make direct eye contact and I know they know exactly what I’m preparing to do. For a moment while we stare at each other in the relative darkness, we understand each other perfectly for the first time. They say to me only: “You left the stove on.” Then for several tense moments we both did the dishes in absolute silence. I can still remember the angry hiss of the hot knife going into a pot of soapy water. I wish I could say this is the only time the chance arrival of a friend saved my life. I cannot. But I can say what these people have said to me. I can say The average heart pumps 2000 gallons of blood a day. It's working too damn hard for you to mistreat it this way. I can say I brought this just for you. I hope you stick around to enjoy it. I can say I will clean up this mess. Just go to bed. Just wake up in the morning. I can say What the fuck are you doing? Don’t you know that I love you? I can say Your hands are so perfectly articulated that not even a computer can draw them in the detail they deserve. If you consider the scarcity of resources on a galactic scale, your bones are a million times more rare than gold or diamonds. That means you're a treasure. And because those things have been said to me, Just one time, I got to say: I know I'm not the one you wanted to be here, with you, right now. But you aren't alone tonight. And that has got to count for something. You've got me, if nothing else. I was hand delivered here by so many empathetic arms. I was breathed into being on this stage by iron lungs of compassion. I am here by the grace of so many interventions. But this one... This one belongs to you. Go to bed. We will both be there when the sun finally comes up tomorrow.

[tokoyamisstuff]

Weapons Don't Weep Ch. 2 - Doctor Otto Octavius x Reader

!No Way Home Spoilers!

Summary: It's been several weeks since the incident, and your new roommate is getting too comfortable for your own taste.

Warnings: Slight Angst and Mentions of Mental Illness, Alcohol, Bed-Sharing, not proofread bc f*ck this app

Words: 2178

Masterlist

A/N: I said "Slow Burn" but it's from the POV of a very impatient writer lmaoo

"I can't remember allowing you to turn my place into your personal workshop."

The floor was dirtied with machine oil and scratched up through tools and heavy machinery. Looking around, you sighed internally at the thought of having to clean up this mess while just coming home from your nightshift.

Several piles of paperwork were laid out onto your desk, and even if you could decipher his handwritig, you would still not be able to understand their contents.

At the beginning - out of boredom but also gratitude of everything you had so selflessy done for him - the doc had repaired several broken things in your flat. The dishwasher, for example, and you liked to joke about them hopefully not becoming sentient as well.

But as time passed and his healing progressed, the man would disappear at the security of the night, where to you did not know...

...but he never came back empty-handed.

It took your weird new friend a while to acknowledge your presence right now, being too deeply sunken into his work.

Because even though you had already told him about clean energy existing in this universe, he was eager to prove his theory correct - it was the only thing left for him, after all.

"Hey, Doc..."

"Just Otto is perfectly fine." The man wouldn't waste a sole second of potential time, not even looking up from the work he had buried himself into. "Welcome home, my dear!"

The nickname you had already gotten used to made you relax a little - but your worry wouldn't falter. "Did you even sleep while I was gone? Ate, drank...any break at all?"

A look into the fridge answered your latter question. "Gosh, you're hopeless..."

Two of his claws would take the heavy grocery bags that still laid in the entrance, carrying them to you all of a sudden.

"I can do it myself, Otto" you dismissed instead of thanking him, but he just waved it off. "We did it unconsciously."

Even though this technology surely was amazing, and so was Octavius for being intelligent enough to command four excess limbs...

...but sometimes you wondered who is actually controlling whom in this constellation.

"Otto..." you chanted with the most alluring voice, as if to lure him out of his trance. The metal appendices eyed you warily as you approached him from behind, putting a hand on his shoulder. "Sit down for a minute. Let me see the wound."

Your touch made him snap out of it, turning around with a crooked smirk on his face. "Anything for you, my dearest."

Only now the man himself realized how exhaustion got the better of him, slacking down on the sofa with a deep sigh.

"You can't ignore your body like this, Otto" you scolded him as he took off his turtleneck, revealing his chest.

"Well, my body is a temple" the man snickered as he joked, patting his belly. "Ancient and probably haunted."

"Ugh, boomer-humor." The man rose an eyebrow at that word not belonging to his repertoire, but you wouldn't explain it to him.

You weren't up to his self-depricating humor, almost angrily ripping the plaster off his wound. "Not funny."

Neglecting your own needs is also a form of self-harm, and you were sure that he was doing it ok purpose...

...but because of what?

Otto had never really been very talkative when it came to his past until now, but you wanted to give it time.

It hasn't even been a whole month since you found him in that dark alleyway, and though the crumbles of detail he told you sounded like wild fiction, you wanted to believe him.

Robbing banks to finance your project was surely a crime, but nothing diabolical or worth cursing his own existence for.

It's sure he was hiding something from you.

"The wound has healed very well." He smiled at your words, pulling a strand of hair out of your face as you tried to concentrate on the new bandage. "All thanks to you."

Annoyed and admittedly a little bit flustered at the compliment, you avoided his eyes, noticing the cigars placed on the table. "Could you please not smoke in here? My landlord will kill me."

"As if that ruin of a house could get any filthier" he curved your demand, and you wondered if he was so unnerving on purpose.

"But I still can't afford to be thrown out of here anyway. You've never been a broke college student, haven't you?

"I was, but way before your time." You snorted at that comment as Otto scratched his chin in thought, adding "And I'm not exactly a person that wouldn't attract attention to the outside world."

Mustering up the courage to ask, your hand swiftly ran from the bandage to the inflexible belt around his waist, wondering how straining it would be to wear this heavy thing all the time. "Then why won't you just take this off?"

A little taken aback at your suggestion, together with that expecting look of yours, he started to become a little more frantic...

...yet around you, the short-tempered man was in fact very restrained.

It had been some time since his last outburst, and every time 'Doc Ock' broke through, you were quick to soothe that part of himself as well.

"The reason is as trivial as it is tragic: I can't. They're connected to my spinal cord." Regret was present in his tone, and you immediately had to think of that burned-looking chip in his neck.

You've seen it many times when you peeked over his shoulder as he worked on something - and whatever purpose it may serve, it appeared broken.

"I guess I could smoke with the window open, if that's a compromise you're okay with" he tried to change the topic, reassuringly petting your hair.

"Whatever..." you mumbled under your breath, jumping up to shut the blinds. "Let's just go to sleep. We both had a busy night and need some rest."

You gestured for him to stand up, knowing it was hard for the curteous man to steal your bed this whole time - but he was older and injured, and the 'tentacles' needed space as well.

However, guilt was washing over the man as he saw you cowering on the sofa, after having worked so hardly without an end.

He'd definetly return the favour once he'd be able to - that much he swore upon the little honor he had left!

It was already way past 5pm when you finally awoke from your almost comatose nap. After having accomondated to the constant sound of cracking and whirring metal, it was easy for you to ignore everything else.

You weren't surprised that the Doc would already be up way before you, but not what he was working on now:

Fine scents of something delicious graced your nostrils, drowning out the usual smell of motor oil, metal and cigars.

Old-fashioned music accented the scenery, together with some candles that had been collecting dust in your cupboard for years.

"Ah, the little sunshine has awoken to bless us with her bright warmth."

You covered your lips with one hand, not wanting to make the impression that you were mocking him - but seeing him that carefree for a change did conjure a smile to your face.

"What are you doing, Ot-" He wouldn't let you finish the sentence, a gloved index finger stroking your lips before he offered you his hand to help you up. "Shh. Today is all about you - to honor your generosity."

Unwilling to let go off of your hand, he led you across the small room and offered you a chair. A fine wine was already filling your glass, in opposite to the hard liquor he usually craved when he was alone with his - their - thoughts.

"I hope my cooking skills are not as rusted as I think" Octavius laughed wholeheartedly before raising the glass. "To my savior, and new friendships. Cheers!"

Several hours - and bottles of wine - later, you realized that it had been forever since you've had this much fun.

It sure was nice having some company - for the both of you. And your presence could work wonders, banishing the ghosts in his head, or at least driving them into a corner...

...but there was still the feeling that you could also make those demons stronger than ever.

"Your talent is wasted on your field, Y/N..." the man rested his arms on the desk, staring intensely at you. "How about you become my assistant?"

"I literally can't solve the easiest equations even with a calculator." You tipped backwards on the chair, almost falling over if not for a claw holding you in place. "And I have two left hands." Okay, that may be a little overdramatic - the stitches on his wound were done pretty well.

"Yeah, I figured" he chuckled darkly, his finger on the edge of his glass.

"But you're still gonna become the first person to witness the power of my invention" the man further uttered quite proud, "You'll be both amazed and astonished!"

"Typical." Twirling the wine before sipping it completely, you drank on the courage to approach him. "Only talking about work..."

You swayed towards the man, giving it your utmost to not appear as drunk as you were feeling on the inside. Supporting yourself on the edge of the table, you leaned forwards until your face met his.

"I rarely ever see your eyes..." you pondered out loud, the alcohol breaking down the wall between your mind and your mouth. "Why are you wearing sunglasses even on the inside?"

Truth be told, the voices in his head were already distracting enough - so the glasses protected him from sensory overload.

"Feisty little thing" he whispered as he grabbed both of your hands, yet unable to keep you from taking them off.

"May I?" Excitement at the sudden proximity got the better off him, leaping up from his seat and pulling you towards his chest, one hand gently placed on your waist.

There was no need for you to know how to dance, since Otto was doing both your parts effortlessly - even with all that excess weight on his back.

Your bright laughter was like a symphony in his ears as he swirled you around - and he was not the only one enjoying himself.

"More" the voices urged him, primitive AI reacting to his endorphines. He tried to silence them, instead dwelling in this moment he did desperately not want to ruin.

"More. More more more MORE!"

"Huh?" The music had stopped and so did he, clutching onto you while still holding you firmly. "Otto...everything alright?"

The man cut you off with a kiss, lips crushing over yours wild and needy - and much to his surprise, you were responsive to his touch, humming approvingly as your arms wrapped around him.

You smiled against his lips and a low groan escaped his throat. His hands took their time roamed every inch of your body until they ran under your shirt, savouring the soft skin underneath...

...but then, he pulled away.

Your breathing hitched as your lips parted, knees weak as one hand of his still lingered on your cheek. Otto's eyes were regretful, ashamed even.

"I'm sorry!" he gasped, not believing what he just did. "It was the heat of the moment, I suppose..."

"Please, say something. God, I'm so sorry Y/N..." he now whined and you would only smile dumbly at him, innocent even. "What for?"

"Cut it out!" The doctor's enraged yell send a shiver down your spine, yet it wasn't meant for you - but for the appendages, still trying to push you against him.

"Y/N, my dearest, you're drunk." He repeated over and over, as if to remind himself of that fact. "You're drunk, it's not right. I couldn't forgive myself if I took advantage of you like that."

So you were right - he really was a good person at heart.

"It's okay, Otto. Don't apologize."

Your head nestled against his chest before looking up to the tall man again, your affectionate smile unfaltering. In a mere second, he'd swoop you off the floor, tenderly placing you onto the bed...

...but you grabbed his sleeve as he was about to leave, a pleading look in your eyes. "Stay."

"Please..." you continued at his lack of response, sitting stiffly on the edge of the bed. "Just to sleep. Nothing else. Okay?"

Octavius bit his lip until it drew blood, afraid of the temptation - but his mind was too weak to deny you any request.

So he'd lay down a safe distance away, one of his claws properly covering you with a blanket. It didn't take long until your utterly wasted self drifted into sweet dreams, with Otto taking watch over you like a guard dog.

The scientist may not believe in the existence of a god, but you came closest to what he imagined an angel to be like.

Endearing, he thought: How soundly you could rest besides an abomination that should've lie on the bottom of the ocean, together with his creation.

And that was the very reason why he would give it his utmost to become the person you see in him.

"We will take good care of you. That's a promise."

[creativeashproductions]

Change of Scenery // Evan Buckley

IN WHICH: Captain Bobby Nash has kept a secret from his friends, his wife and his step children since 2015 when he came to LA. Bobby’s eldest and only surviving child comes to LA to reconcile and make amends all the while she catches the eye of a certain blue eyed firefighter.

Warnings: Swearing, death/familial loss, pregnancy, blood, angst, injuries/medical emergency, and fluff

Words: 8k

A/N: Back at it with another 9-1-1 fic. Hope you enjoy, and I may just have to do another crossover with 9-1-1 and Julie and the Phantoms.

TO BE TAGGED SEND AN INBOX/ASK PLEASE!

Masterlist

There are moments in our lives that define us, whether it can be known as a positive or negative, but the outcome is always the same. A six-letter word that strikes fear and excitement into the souls of humans is change. The fear can be for ourselves or as a result of a child, a sibling, or a parent branching out on their own. Unfortunately, you had gone through a harsh and cruel experience on a cold winter night in the city you grew up in.

A typical Thursday filled with classes at the college you attended in Minnesota on a scholarship, nothing out of the ordinary. The plan had been to drive to your parents’ apartment to catch up with them for the weekend. Saturday morning was already reserved for a girls day with your little sister Brook and your mom. In the afternoon, you’d promised to take your brother Bobby to the ball diamond.

Your bag was packed, the plan to drive straight from class to St. Paul the following day to arrive in the daylight. Your dad struggled with worry when it came to you driving in the dark and especially in winter with icy roads.

“Y/N!” Dottie screeched from the living room of the four-bedroom dormitory. The pretty and curvy brunette had been the first friend you made in college.

Typically Dottie was on the quieter side, so when she screamed, you practically sprinted to the girl.

“Where’s the fire?” You demanded with a smirk at the reference to a topic that was a constant in your family. 

The fire drills your father conducted every four months for an exit plan in case of a fire and general information to save yourselves. He had also trained you to remember fire hazards and how to call dispatch with clear information if that time ever came. It never did and hopefully never would.

“The Lakeview Apartments in St. Paul.” Dottie’s dark brown eyes spoke only of pity and concern. The five foot ten roommate literally caught you as you tumbled into her arms with a loud grief-stricken scream.

You were forever indebted to the brunette for the plans she sacrificed to drive you back to St. Paul. There was absolutely no chance Dottie would allow you to both drive and be alone with no news. The media hadn’t released the names of the 148 deaths the fire relentlessly tore from the land of the living.

“I want to prepare you for what you’ll see. Your mother suffered severe third-degree burns over the majority of her body.” The kind nurse, also one of your friend’s parent, explained as she guided you to the Burn Center in the Regions Hospital, “I don’t want to lie and tell you she’ll be fine. You’re an adult Y/N. You deserve the truth and not be coddled.”

“Is she gonna survive?” You quietly asked, “Has she woken up since she was brought in?”

“The doctor placed her on a high dosage of morphine for the pain. Your father hasn’t left her side.” Lucinda informed you with sympathy written as over her face, The hazel eyes unable to adequately meet yours.

“I’ll check on her, then could you take me to the rooms my siblings are in?” You asked, completely unaware Brook and Bobby had been DOA at the hospital.

Your father hadn’t answered the text messages or the voicemails you had left on his phone—radio silent. You couldn’t be mad when he was with your mom, but a text would have been nice.

“This is where your mother is staying for the unforeseeable future. If you need anything, you can call me.” Lucinda softly replied before turning her heel to head back to the Burn Centre’s front desk.

It was horrific walking into a room with no idea if the occupant who had raised you would survive. The confident, gorgeous mother you had for the past nineteen years was unfamiliar to you, the extensive gauze covering nearly every inch of her body. You almost couldn’t even recognize the man sitting in the chair with his hands wrapped. 

“Dad? What happened?” You questioned the grieving man. The only person left in your family as you would soon come to know.

“Y/N?” Bobby gasped, pushing himself to his feet, staring at his only living child. The guilt ate at him just staring at you with those light brown eyes, “Oh, sweetheart.”

Your dad crossed the room in a few steps. The scent of smoke was still clinging to every part of him, but it was fine. Your dad was okay, minus the wounds on his hands. You’d always been closer with your father than your mother.

“Dad, what happened?” You quietly asked the ashamed firefighter that had to reconcile his feelings on the fire and his career—that struggle ending up pushing you away when he really just wanted you as close as possible.

“The building caught on fire after an ember from a heater lit a blanket on fire,” Bobby informed you with his eyes pinned on his wife. Bobby knew the chances of Marcy surviving were incredibly low, and he had to tell you that.

Bobby only knew the details passed on from a firefighter who pitied the man who’d lost most of his family. 

“Is Mom gonna be okay?” You questioned, and the said injured woman in the bed weakly responded.

“Baby?” Marcy quietly questioned from her absolutely still position on the hospital bed, “Uh, Bobby.”

You left your father’s side to be as close to your mom as possible, with the clear plastic separating you for her safety. Your heart shattered at the sheer exhaustion in her pretty blue eyes. 

“Hi, Mom.” You shakily spoke with one hand lightly pressed against the plastic divider. You didn’t even notice when your dad stepped up too.

“Marcy?” Bobby called out from right beside you, just as torn up, but Bobby carried extra weight on his shoulders, “We’re right here, Marcy. It’s okay. It’s okay.”

The muffled grunt of pain, your mom’s attempt to save you from grief, Marcy let out as she turned her head to look at you. You knew deep in your gut that this was the time place you would see your mom alive. And by the look in her eyes, she knew too.

“The...kids…?” Your mom’s breathing became more erratic as she questioned the man she viewed as her hero. The man she believed had saved her and their youngest children, “Where...are they?”

“The kids are fine.” The way your father said it and the tears led to the knowledge once kept from you.

“No.” You whispered, seeing the total grief written clear on his face. The pain meds and agony kept your mom from knowing the truth.

“They’re safe.”

“I knew you’d come and save us.” Your mom breathed as her eyes started hiding the pretty blue you’d now only see in pictures. In your dreams, until even those faded as father time cruelly pulled you along.

Then your worst nightmare happened. You watched as the woman you looked up to flatlined with the thought of her children safe. You’d always know she’d held on just long enough to find out the state of her children. You could only hope she’d forgive your father for lying to her as she died.

“Mom!” You screamed, fighting the arms of an orderly restraining you. You barely noticed the resistance to your frantic attempts.

One minute you were staring at a team unsuccessfully trying to revive your long-gone mother, then you were in a hotel room. The atmosphere tense and quiet between father and daughter, with the ghost of your dead family to keep you both company. You could hear Brook gagging every time you’d kissed your now ex. You could see Bobby toddling after you years ago.

At least you had your father—a father whose guilt festered until he couldn’t hold it in anymore.

“It was my fault.” He murmured, staring at the barely eaten burger that tasted solely just cardboard. He couldn’t bear to look at your face, “I didn’t mean to leave it on.”

Your head snapped to stare at him in disbelief, “What do you mean you didn’t mean to leave it on?”

“I-I went to the roof to sleep after your mom kicked me out. I didn’t have my keys to the apartment I had below ours.” Bobby began spilling the lies he’d told to you about his addictions. Of the apartment, you’d had no clue was even in his possessions.

The pain of losing your family tore into you, “You took my mom away from me. I’ll never get to share my wedding day with her. Shopping for a dress and gossiping about boys. I’ll never be able to wipe Brook’s tears during her first heartbreak.”

Each word broke Bobby more and more.

“You stole my future. You’re selfish, ungrateful and utterly pathetic. You cost so many people so much, all because you sought out your next high.” You spat, glaring at someone you’d never expected to hurt you. You didn’t notice your hands grabbing your possessions nor opening the hotel room door, “You couldn’t even properly try to get clean.”

“Y/N-”

“Get your shit together before you kill anyone else. I never want to see you again.” You sobbed with regret already festering in your body, but pride held you back from apologizing.

Upon your return to your dorm with Dottie by your side, you immediately began the process to enter an exchange program. Within a month, your feet entered Sydney Airport. You didn’t return to America for several years.

You took a job as a casual lifeguard on Bondi Beach, met Lucas in a meet-cute situation at the grocery store. You graduated college and found a job as a paramedic as you began becoming a flight paramedic. In 2020 Lucas and you discovered you’d be bringing in a little baby into the world.

Learning about your little Cashew growing safe in your womb fanned the flame of desire to reconcile. Ultimately the pride kept pushing the urge to apologize for the cruel words you told your father further away. You naively believed you had all the time in the world.  

Remember the six-letter scary word? If losing your mom, siblings, and father was a devastating blow, losing Lucas was nearly tied. Your little Cashew lost their father before they even got to meet him. That was push enough to pack up your home and fly back to America with your father’s new address as soon as you could.

In the fallout of the apartment fire, your father relocated from Minnesota to Los Angeles. 

Los Angeles, 2020

As soon as you’d found the nicest but cheapest hotel to stay in until you found a place, you walked the streets of LA. The first order of business of approaching your father at his workplace as you had no personal address. Residing still in Minnesota, Deputy Chief Evans had only given you the address of Bobby’s work.

You could only hope Bobby wouldn’t turn you away. That he was willing to bridge the gap, you’d widened over the years. That he could forgive the silence to each email, he sent when you changed numbers.

“We should go out to dinner.” The female voice was what brought you back to the present time. The woman was beautiful with her buzzed head and clear skin.

Right by her side was a dark-haired male of Asian ethnicity with a bag thrown over his shoulder, “If you’re paying, you bet I’ll be there.”

The two continued to converse in their own world until the man had to literally dodge you when they finally noticed you.

“Does Chief Bobby Nash work here?” You inquired, having no desire to enter small talk when the baby was sitting on your bladder again. You nearly retched when the man stared down at your swollen midsection, shocked, “It’s not his baby.”

Hen caught the evident disgust on your face, “He’s in his office. I’ll guide you there…”

“Y/N.” You supplied the firefighter. Hen smiled in response, “And your name is…”

“Henrietta Wilson, but you can call me Hen. That was Howard Han. He goes by Chimney, and I’ve been sworn to secrecy on the name.” Hen chuckled in her steps to the closed door of the fire chief. Hen swiftly knocked on the door to give Bobby a heads up.

“Come in!” Bobby called from his pile of paperwork he had pushed and waited to work on. It had slipped as the date came closer. Your twenty-seventh birthday, the seventh one since he last saw you.

“Cap, a woman is asking for you,” Hen told her friend and boss. It’s a good thing you didn’t choose to surprise your father because Hen was shorted, and your bump made manoeuvring around tricky.

“What can I do…” Bobby trailed off when he saw the girl waiting to talk to him. The pen in his hand dropped to the table in shock.

Hen glanced between the two equally taken aback individuals, “Am I missing something here?”

“Hey, dad.” You whispered to the man who’d been dreaming of this moment since the minute you left. He’d searched for you at your previous college and nearly made a missing person report.

“Dad?” Hen couldn’t pick her jaw up from the floor if she even wanted to because this was juicy information. Sure, Bobby had caved into telling his team, his family that he’d lost his wife and two children in a fire.

He rarely talked about his life before the 118, but he’d never mentioned having a surviving daughter. Not in the handful of times he’d talked about the tragedy, nor did he have any objects or photos of you. 

“You’re really here?” Bobby lightly chuckled with a twinkle in his eye. Hen had only seen a handful of times. All of them had Athena in the scene, “I missed you.”

“I missed you too.” You beamed, stepping closer to the man you’d missed dearly, “I’m so sorry for the way I left. What I said was cruel and untrue. You aren’t selfish, and I can’t blame you for something you couldn’t control.”

Bobby grinned. He’d stepped around his desk only to halt when he took in an undeniable development—the baby bump you carried.

“Is-”

“I’m pregnant. Six months along with a baby girl.” You laughed to the apparent disbelief in your father’s light brown eyes. His gaze continued to shift between the bump and your e/c eyes.

“Wow. Sorry, this is...wow.” 

“She’s one of the reasons I wanted to come back. To fix our relationship because I want her to know her grandpa. You’re the only grandparent Poppy will know.” Bobby was quick to tug you into his arms as soon as the first tear dropped down your cheek.

There was so much you wanted to tell your father, but that overwhelming grief rose higher. You’d left Australia where Lucas laid in a plot in a cemetery. You left the friends you’d found in the city. Left the lifeguard job you’d come to love.

“Where are you and your partner staying?”

“He...uh...Lucas passed away recently.”

The arms holding you tightened in response to your confession, “Oh sweetheart.”

“I didn’t know where else to go. I can’t stay in the home we bought. Not the place he died when I couldn’t save him.”

“I don’t know what happened, but it wasn’-”

“Don’t coddle me. I was...am a paramedic. A flight paramedic, to be specific, so I know that my hesitation could be the reason he died.”

Your career took the father by complete and utter surprise because you’d always planned on a different job. Before the fire that claimed so many lives, you’d never entertained a career in the emergency field.

“We have a lot to catch up on. First, you need to know that I’ll always love your mother no matter what, but you need to know. I met someone when I first moved here, and we were friends at first. She divorced her husband. We started dating...sweetheart, I remarried.”

A wave of emotions flared in your chest, from betrayal to sadness and ultimately happiness. Having lost your first love, you understood and knew if love came around for you, you wouldn’t ignore it. Lucas wouldn’t want that.

“I can’t wait to meet her.”

Re-entering into Bobby’s new life was a difficult adjustment for everyone included. Tension had risen between Athena and Bobby for a brief period. Athena hadn’t even been aware of your existence, but she could fault Bobby. Athena had even told her first husband about her late fiance Emmett when they were still together.

It was difficult for you with the new addition of two step-siblings in the same birth order as Brook and Bobby had been. The Grant siblings had welcomed you into the family without any reservations.

“Did you ever get to fly the chopper?” Harry asked as he scrubbed the dirty dish from the Sunday family dinner. 

It was the first dinner that had no awkward tension since you arrived back in the country. Athena had taken a bit to warm up, but it was nothing personal. She’d actually been the one to find you you’d been staying at a hotel. Mama Athena did not like her pregnant step-daughter living at a hotel. She’d actually stormed your room with Hen and Karen as back up to pack your room and leave for the Grant-Nash house.

“No. I had to help keep the patients alive. If I’m telling the truth...sometimes I didn’t even notice I was in the air.” You whispered to your stepbrother. He was just invested in your career as he had been when Bobby first entered their lives.

“That is so cool!” Harry enthused with soap suds splashing your thin knitted sweater. Harry’s mouth formed an ‘o’ when you flicked water onto his face in retaliation.

“Do you know Bondi Beach in Australia?” You inquired the youth with the chore of dishes completed.

“Yeah! There’s a tv show called Bondi Rescue! I watch the clips on YouTube!” Harry exclaimed, hot on your heels to the couch. Out of May and Harry, he followed you around with questions about your life in Australia.

“I was a casual lifeguard. I’m not featured on that show, but I would get called in when a lifeguard was needed. It paired well with my job as a flight paramedic.” You half-smiled, remembering the Bondi lifeguards who had welcomed you into the family. You became one of them when they started pranking you.

“Did you ever see a shark-”

“Harry, go brush your teeth. Leave Y/N alone.” Athena informed her youngest from the open patio doors. Your father, Athena and May had been outside as soon as the table had been cleared.

“But-”

“Harry,” Athena warned the youngest Grant. Harry didn’t attempt to argue with his stern mother; all he did was hug you quickly. You watched the young boy disappear into the hallway.

“He reminds you of your little brother?” Athena questioned. In your time of reminiscing, the older woman had settled in Harry’s previous position.

“A little.” You whispered, “Thank you for welcoming me into the family. For making my dad happy.”

“You know I may have some baby clothes put away if you’d like to use them?” Athena offered with that smile that made you feel at home. Athena was far different from your late mother, with her presence commanding respect and intelligence. Your mom was similar, but I suppose it could be described as a softer touch.

“Anyway, saving a penny is appreciated. I have a question for you also.” You hesitantly started with a bundle of nerves deep in your belly. Athena turned to give you her full attention.

“Well? Out with it.” Athena pushed, but she had a slight feeling of what you were about to ask her.

“My mom was one the strongest women I know. It hurts that my baby won’t get to experience her love and guidance, and you can say no. We’ve only known each other a short time, but would you consider...maybe being a grandma to my baby?”

Giddy was the feeling Athena developed along with the laughing smile that only came from happiness. The woman could only nod her head in response to your hesitant question. To Athena’s knowledge but not yours, Bobby was softly smiling, watching his formerly estranged daughter getting along with your stepmom.

“Oh!” You gasped as your baby kicked hard enough for her foot imprint to be seen through your knitted sweater. 

Bobby was by your side in concern the second he heard your startled sound, but Athena wasn’t that concerned. Athena remembered having the same reaction.

“Are you okay?” Bobby frantically questioned. He faltered when the woman shared a belly-deep laugh at the sheer fear written in the seasoned firefighter’s eyes.

“Poppy was kicking.” You chuckled as your father’s shoulders dropped in relief, “Here.”

Your nimble fingers clasped around your father’s wrist to bring his palm to the spot Poppy was kicking. A certain lightness flooded your entire body, being capable of sharing this experience with Bobby. Watching tears well up in the grandpa to be’s brown eyes.

“Whoa.” Bobby breathlessly spoke as Poppy kicked against his palm. The feeling building in his was exhilarating with the small amount of grief mixed in, “I remember when your mom was pregnant with you. We didn’t know if we were having a girl or boy, but she was adamant you would be a kickboxer. So active.”

Athena watched as the relationship between father and daughter started healing directly in front of her eyes. The Sergeant was about to give you two some privacy when you caught her hand in your free one.

“Here.” You informed the older woman shifting to place her hand where your father’s hand had previously been. Your e/c eyes sought the wonder-filled different shades of brown eyes the couple had.

“You should get some sleep,” Athena spoke, staring at her hand resting on your bump. Her dark chocolate brown rising to find your gaze, “You won’t be getting a lot once she arrives.”

Bobby and Athena watched as you turned the corner to the spare room Athena’s parents used when they visited. For the time being, you’ve moved into the room, and the Grant-Nash house hoped you would stay. May had always wanted a sister, and Harry loved all the stories you told about Australia.

“You know, at some point, you’ll have to talk to her.”

“I just was-’

“-without anyone else being the buffer. Bobby, both your lives is evidence enough that some things are too trivial to stress over.” Athena pinned her stern gaze on her husband. The same husband is actively trying to avoid her penetrating gaze.

“What I did-’

“Is in the past, Bobby. You have a second chance with that wonderful woman in that bedroom and our grandchild. Now, are you sure that having the party at the firehouse is okay?”

A hand supported the base of your back where an ache tended to stay for most of the day. That ache wasn’t the worst symptom of your pregnancy. You had heartburn constantly that tied with unfortunate constipation that had thankfully lessened. Your purse always had a cardigan for the hot flashes as well.

“Perfect! May has my car, and Bobby needed that.” Athena beamed from the open bay of the 118. One of the firefighters, Eddie, if you recalled, snagged your purse and the specific ingredient for a recipe.

“You could have borrowed Bobby’s-”

“His vehicle is in the shop Buck.” Athena interrupted the only member of the 118 you had let to officially meet.

Now there were two suspects of the sudden shortness of breath you started experiencing. It could be Poppy in the limited space in your body or the handsome firefighter. Buck had to be hands down none of the most attractive men you’d ever encountered. His dark blonde hair had minimal height, but the soft waves made your fingers itch to feel it. His ocean blue eyes crinkled at the corners with mirth.

“Ah, so you’re flesh and blood of Cap?” Buck questioned from in front of you. His blue eyes centred solely on you, with half a mind thanking himself that he could navigate the station blindfolded in the dark.

“For the last twenty-seven years, I have been.” You retorted, stopping at the edge of the stairs to the apparatus. Your keen sense of smell catching one of your favourite meals your father had dug up from the recipes he hadn’t used in years.

A zing of electricity trailed off your arm when a calloused palm met yours. Your e/c eyes followed the path of tan skin until it reached the shirt sleeve of Buck’s t-shirt. The shirt emblazoned on the chest with the department’s insignia. The man in the casual uniform guided you safely up the stairs with his hand on your back.

The pressure of Buck’s hand on your aching back muscle nearly brought what would be an embarrassing moan from your lips. Thankfully a gasp of surprise fell out instead at the banner hanging with other decorations.

“What?” You choked, cupping your hands to your face. Pure unadulterated shock and affection flooded every inch of you.

The entire 118 squad intermixed with their loved ones surrounded the open area with grins. On a table behind everyone was many wrapped gifts. But the cake was the most impressive.

A large rectangular cake in the realistic shape of a fire engine parked in front of a fire hydrant with a fondant hose going to the truck. On top of the fire truck was the turnout boots next to the matching helmet, the 118 proudly on it. You adored the turnout coat draping off the top to hang off the side.

“If you look at the helmet, it says Poppy.” Buck enthused, guiding you even closer to catch the immaculate cake, “It has to be the best cake we’ve gotten from them.”

“Hey, my rebar head cake was phenomenal!” Chimney called with a belying grin on his face. His hand encased by a brunette woman about his height with her heels on.

“It’s a long story.” Buck offered as soon as you gave him a weird questioning look, “Let me introduce you to everyone!”

For the next five minutes, you spend it by meeting the family of 118, including Eddie’s completely adorable son. Christopher was happy to sit next to you as soon as Harry had found you. Slowly the others came closer to hear the stories.

“What’re the most common injuries on the beach?” Denny, Hen and Karen’s ten-year-old son questioned.

“Bluebottle Jellyfish stings. On one day, we had hundreds of people come to the tower for stings, and the treatment for the minor ones is stingose spray and ice.”

“My question is how a girl from Minnesota is a lifeguard in Australia. Especially on Sydney’s most dangerous beach.” Chimney inserted, waving his bottle of pop at you, his eyes kept moving towards the wine Maddie brought.

Unfortunately, the 118 wouldn’t be celebrating with the wine until their shifts ended in a few short hours. It was a damn miracle they hadn’t been called out yet.

“This former Minnesotan spent summers at my best friend’s parents’ place in Cali as a lifeguard. Also, Bondi is not the most dangerous beach in Sydney. That’s Tamarama.” You pointed towards the man who raised his hands in surrender.

“Have you ever seen a dead body?” Harry asked, bringing a sobering silence in the question’s wake.

Your body language changed as soon as he asked, “Unfortunately, I’ve seen death as a paramedic and as a lifeguard.”

“You’re a paramedic? I thought you were just a lifeguard?” Buck asked, interested in the new information. Buck could feel his Captain’s eyes on the back of his head; he was sure Bobby could smell the attraction on Buck.

“Casual lifeguard. Called when needed as a backup.” You turned your e/c eyes towards the arguably youngest member of the 118.

“How many dead-”

“Harry.” Athena warned her son from continuing a topic that killed the ease and happiness you’d shown previously, “Why don’t we stop talking about-”

“Too many, Harry.” You interrupted your stepmom with a gentle smile towards the woman, “It’s not just drowning that claims lives but also the cliffs surrounding the beaches. Lifeguards patrol more than the beaches and water. Lifeguards respond to medical emergencies, mostly spinal until the paramedics arrive.”

“Oh-”

“I had a fellow lifeguard leave the job because of the suicides we deal with.”

“...who wants cake?” Karen used the quiet interlude of the much too serious topic for a group of kids barely in the double digits of ages. All referenced children followed Hen’s life to the beautiful baked creation.

“Sorry for getting dark there.”

“We all know the dark side of the jobs we chose to do. You sound like you miss Australia. Are you going to return there?” Eddie questioned with one eye pinned on his son, consuming more sugar than he wished.

Eddie’s question did raise self-doubt, but you knew that ultimately living in Australia was no longer a viable option. 

“There’s nothing there for me.”

Eddie, Buck and your father understood that mentality to a ‘t’ with family complications keeping them away. Your father for obvious reasons, whereas Eddie and Buck each had a living family with opinions only they saw right.

“You’re always welcome here. Especially when you bring that little cutie to the firehouse.” Maddie cooed towards your baby bump. The 911 dispatcher had asked many questions about your pregnancy.

 Maddie was the type of person who could make a stranger feel like they had known for their entire lives.

“Here.”

A plate of the cake was thrust in front of your face courtesy of Maddie’s brother Buck. It is quite literally the perfect size you could ask for. In his other hand, he had a new bottle of water waiting for you to grab.

“Thank you, Buck.” Your shock must have shown in your voice when his cheeks flushed.

“This whole party is a celebration for you, so you shouldn’t have to get up...unless you want to!” Buck rushed to respond, getting more flustered with the amused look of his older sister on him, “You’re already doing something absolutely amazing, so you should get to rela-”

“Buck!” You laughed, ending the older man’s rambling thoughts. The entire party attendees had started watching Buck’s failed smooth attempt.

“Yeah?”

“Thank you.”

Buck mutely nodded in response, “No prob-”

The bell was the one to interrupt him instead. The on-duty firefighters rushed down from the upper levels to the lockers. The swift suiting up impressed you as it was like you blinked, and the bay was empty.

“Should be the last call before they get off shift.” Maddie, still occupied with the cake she was eating, “That wine looks so good!”

Your attention snapped from the vacant spots the 118 vehicles parked to the woman ploughing down on the cake. Sure it was good, but not that good. Maybe you could tell as a pregnant woman, or perhaps you just caught some of the symptoms you felt.

“How far along are you?”

Maddie froze, “What are you talk-”

“You’re pregnant, right?”

“Don’t tell anyone. Chim and I found out recently, but we want to wait on telling people. Once the first trimester is over, everyone can know.” Maddie pleaded with two hands cupped under her chin in a prayer position. The pretty brunette using the puppy dog eyes on the new friend she’d made.

“You should tell Buck-”

“We will once we enter the safe zone. So tell me about your baby’s father.” Maddie swiftly changed the subject, unaware of the ache developing in your midsection.

“Lucas Gowan.” You mussed, recalling the freckled half Australian half Scots man with the thick red locks.

“Ooh, is he still in Australia?”

“Technically, he is. I met him at the grocery store near the university campus. I’d transferred to escape my grief. It was purely an attraction at first sight before developing into love at first sight. We convocated and moved into a cosy little place. We’d only just found out about the baby when Lucas passed away.”

As you told Maddie, your hand had moved to cradle the only remaining piece of Lucas. 

“His death was unexpected and sudden. He’d taken a run the morning of our scan to find out baby Gowan’s gender. He fell off the side of the cliff. I was told he died instantly. The investigator believes his shoelace untied, and he stepped on it. Fell right off the side.”

“I’m so sorry.” Maddie breathed, leaning closer to hold your hands in her own, “He’d be so proud of you. For returning to the states. Do you keep in contact with his family?”

“He was an only child. Parents died in a car accident when he was ten years old. He was in foster care until he aged out of the system. Poppy is named after his mom.”

Maddie instinctively knew talking about Lucas was, “You know you get along pretty well with Buck... I’ve never seen him so flustered.”

“Maddie, I can tell you are a very intelligent woman, but you’re wrong here. Why would a guy like Buck be interested in a pregnant woman with a reconciling relationship with her father and his Captain while grieving her baby’s dad?”

Maddie tilted her head to the side, “Because I know my brother. He’s only ever had that look when I first moved to LA. Back when Abby was still important to him.”

“We’ll just have to agree to disagree.”

Maddie’s mouth opened to speak, but you were saved by the bell when Athena called you over for pictures. Then her attempts got thwarted once more when the 118 returned to the house perfectly synced to the end of shift.

“Driving here was the last time until the baby’s here. You’ve got precious cargo-”

“I’m seven months pregnant; I can still drive. There’s no law saying I can’t-”

Never argue with Athena Grant-Nash, “It may not be illegal, but I won’t endanger my daughter or my granddaughter.”

“I have to get to my OB/GYN appointment tomorrow. You and Dad each have a long shift during my scheduled appointment. Harry is both too young to drive and in school. May has a shift at dispatch. There’s literally no one available to take me.”

Bobby watched as two of the most important women in his life argued over something as trivial as driving. Harry shook at listening to someone fighting against his mother; she could be terrifying.

“I can take her.”

Everyone in the fir house turned to the voice who’d offered suddenly and found the sheepish form of a tall firefighter. Eddie’s eyebrows raised at his best friend.

“I don’t work tomorrow. I’ve got no plans. Albert’s got some date with a girl at her place.”

“I couldn’t put you out.”

“You need a ride, and I’ll be bored, so why not take my new friend to her baby doctor.”

“Baby doctor?” Hen parroted to her wife in astonishment towards her coworker and close friend. Both the women found the blatant flirting from Buck to the soon to be mother.

“She’ll take you up on the offer. She’s staying in our guest room. Come early for breakfast before you go. We’ll be having waffles.”

Buck found any excuse to visit the Grant-Nash home with the motive to hang out with you ever since the baby shower. From delivering baked goods from your favourite bakery to insisting on driving you to appointments. Didn’t matter if Athena or Bobby could take you; Buck was adamant he drove you.

The friendship was easy going and very natural, like a ball glove still moulded perfectly to your hand. The hangouts in your home evolved to weekly visits to restaurants with guidelines to the current event happening worldwide. 

Ultimately it even led to a test date.

“You look breathtaking.” Buck breathlessly informed you once he’d gently pushed your chair closer to the table.

“Thank you.” You kindly responded despite thinking the complete opposite to the charming man sitting across from you.

Athena and May had helped you get ready for the date with calming words on how going on a date so far into the pregnancy was okay. Then, your father had tentatively inserted himself with sage advice on re-entering the dating scene.

“I thought we could grab some ice cream after,” Buck spoke up as soon as the waiter had taken your drink order. Buck had decided to refrain from alcohol and went with glasses of lemonade and water.

“You shouldn’t say that. I’ll just want ice cream.” You snickered, caressing the taut belly you’d grown to love. In fact, the firm push of a heel announced Poppy’s agreement with ice cream as dessert.

“How is Poppy?”

“The doc says she’s right on track. Healthy all around and in the position, she’s supposed to be at this stage.” Buck adored the affectionate smile that always appeared when the topic of your pregnancy was brought up.

“That’s amazing! Bobby gushes about you and Poppy. The fridge has an entire door dedicated to sonograms of Poppy. Even a few from that maternity shoot Hen and Maddie surprised you with.”

A few weeks had passed since the baby shower the 118 had surprised you with. Maddie had announced her pregnancy to the joy of the chosen family she had. Bobby had put together a crib he had painted. Michael, Athena’s ex-husband, had started making plans for adding on to the house for a room for the baby.

Despite informing the architect, you planned on moving out when you had saved enough, he’d made a sound argument. Athena would want a place for the baby to stay when you visited, or the woman demanded to babysit.

Now you found yourself in a National forest not far from Los Angeles, posing in front of nature. A surprise photoshoot Hen and Karen had organized with Karen’s brother Trey. Maddie and Athena had been the ones who drove you.

“Hold the teddy bear on your bump,” Trey informed you from behind his professional and intimidating camera. The photographer praised you in the rapid movement to listen to his offer.

“Hey! Maddie! You should take a few photos. I need a pee break.” You didn’t wait for Maddie to respond in your rush to the somewhat rustic bathroom hut.

By the time you returned, Maddie was taking a couple pictures. Then you took some with Athena to have on the nursery walls and for Bobby to have a photo for his desk.

“Now one with all three of you.”

Present

“So a daredevil.” You stated unsurprised that the firefighter had a history of recklessness. You don’t go into firefighting without a taste for danger.

“The bruises and blood fit better than the awful bleached hair during my time in Peru.” Buck laughed, recalling the questionable choice in his fashion pre-firefighting. Sometimes he missed the people he encountered in his period of self-discovery.

“You didn’t wear puka sh-”

“I did. Bleached hair, puka shells and Hawaiian shirts were my staples during my bartending years. I fit in with the aesthetic of the bar I tended.”

“Buck!” You nearly gasped at his raw honesty. Buck didn’t hold back any answers to your questions, but you each strayed from the topic of family.

Talking about the tragic family history wasn’t a good idea on the first time regardless of the time you’d known each other.

“You’re telling me-” Buck halted as soon as he caught the flash of discomfort flicker over your beautiful features, “Are you okay?”

“She shifted. Been sitting on my blad-” You cut yourself off with a hiss of pain. Buck’s eyes widened at the pain taking over your features, “Oh, that hurt.”

Buck went straight into work mode, “Have you been in pain for long?”

“No. A few cramps here and there today, but my doctor said it was nothing to worry about.” You informed the experienced first responder resting level to your knees.

Buck didn’t want to say it, but he was sure that you’d gone into early labour. There was no indication your water had broken, but he kept over the last hour together. Every once in a while, you shifted or pressed a hand to your bump.

“Has your water broken?”

You shook your head, “No, but...oh... that’s not a cramp.”

With that statement out, you clenched your fingers tight on the edge of the table as pain rippled in your belly. A contraction that stole your breath momentarily. In your contraction, Buck had dialled 911. Buck recalled that sometimes a woman’s water doesn't break until right before the birth.

“We’re not getting that ice cream, are we?” You snorted upon being lifted onto the gurney. How fortunate or unfortunate you were to have the 118 right there.

Hen had taken a position at your feet to check on your lower body while Chimney took your vital signs. You honestly didn’t like the look Hen and Chimney shared with Buck.

“What is it?”

“We’re gonna need to deliver here.” Hen sighed, giving you the facts that terrified you. When you envisioned having the baby, it was in a medical centre. Not in a restaurant.

“My office is large and away from the crowd if you want. I can show you the way.” Sophie, the restaurant manager, offered already starting to lead the way. Sophie would never know how thankful you felt for being able to have privacy.

“Okay, Y/N, is it okay if I check how dilated you -.” Hen breathed with her hand, gently disappearing until the thin blanket Chimney procured from the stocked ambulance, “Y/N when I saw I want you to do that.”

Hen didn’t need to check your dilation when she could see the baby’s head already.

“I’m right here.” Buck cooed in your ear. He had held your hand as his coworkers did their jobs around you.

“This isn’t the way I envisioned you seeing my pu-”

“Push.” Hen urged, cutting off your almost vulgar language, but it eased the tension in the small restaurant office. You couldn’t even see Buck’s flustered reaction as you bore down with the contraction, “Good! Take a breath.”

“You’re a strong woman. It never ceases to amaze me the strength women have.” Buck spoke, keeping your e/c eyes on his blue ones. His hand raised to push a strand of your sweaty hair off your temple.

“Once more push!” Hen called out just in time with the last contraction. The feeling of the pressure between your legs popping was moan inducing.

Poppy was silent. Your entire body froze, yearning for the sweet sound of crying instead of the eerie silence. The world stood still as Chimney worked on your baby girl.

“Pulse is strong,” Chimney announced, keeping his attention on the task of clearing Poppy’s throat and nose. And that sweet sound of crying commenced, “Congratulations Y/N, you have a beautiful baby girl. Let’s get you to the hospital.”

Your father beat the ambulance to the nearest ER in pure anticipation at meeting his granddaughter Poppy Nash Gowan. He barely noticed as Buck stuck to your side like glue. Bobby waited outside the door as you got checked over in the room.

“Quite the first date.” You mused towards Buck, who hovered in awe over the life form you had carried for nine months. You’d been pregnant for three quarters of an entire year to his fascination. 

“All my meaningful relationships started with a medical emergency.” Buck finally looked up at you. He’d kept Poppy company in the bassinet while you delivered the afterbirth upon entering the hospital.

“Seriously?”

“Had a tracheostomy on Valentine’s Day with Abby, an earthquake with Ali and a newscaster in a crashed helicopter.” Buck listed off. He hadn’t even noticed scooping the newborn into his arms until he’d sat in the chair by your bed, “Why not add a sudden labour and delivery.”

“He would have liked you.”

The sentence came out of absolutely nowhere. Almost like something had ripped it out of your vocal cords. At the look of confusion, you elaborated.

“Lucas. He would have liked you. I think if it is possible, he might have pushed me into meeting you. I’ll still need to take it slow, but I’d like to give this a shot.”

That was all Buck needed to lean in closer to kiss you—the first of many kisses.

Some might disagree on how quick your relationship with Buck developed, but they didn’t know yours at all. It was natural with the firefighter who stepped into the role of father figure for a growing Poppy. By the time Poppy was one, you’d moved into a house not far from your father’s place with Buck. By the time Poppy was three, a pretty ring had sat on your finger. By five, the young girl had a baby brother. 

“Your parents spoil Poppy.”

“You say that like you didn’t crawl into her crib during her afternoon naps.” You deadpanned towards your husband. Buck had the nerve to sheepishly grin, “You give in each time she says ‘pwetty pwease’ for a cookie.”

“It’s a crime to make her sad!” Buck defended himself, but a grin of amusement threatened his act, “Besides, you crack each time too!”

“Mhm. Just wait until Theo can talk.” You pressed a kiss to the sleeping infant strapped into the baby carrier. Theodore Robert Buckley could fall asleep in a thunderstorm if he was in Buck’s arms.

“Oh! Maddie wants to have Poppy over for a play date. Madster’s been begging for her cousin to have a sleepover.”

Maddie and Chimney’s daughter was only a few months younger than your daughter, but the two were thick as thieves. Buck had referred to the Han daughter as Madster with how similar her mannerisms were to her mother.

“Think they’d take the rascal?”

“Is this code for you wanting to have another?” Buck questioned with a twinkle of mischief in his blue eyes. The same blue Theo had inherited along with a birthmark like Buck’s on his bicep.

“I-” You choked, blinking furiously, “Evan, I pushed Theo out of my body barely three months ago!”

Buck inconspicuously winked in response with the sudden scream of excitement coming from Poppy. The rambunctious five-year-old ploughed into Buck’s legs full force. Falling into the practised ease, you’d unstrapped Theo from Buck’s chest and promptly had his tiny body stolen into his grandpa’s arms.

“There’s my boy.” Bobby cooed to the sleep drunk tiny infant. The little baby is crowded by his Gram Athena and Aunt May, “Gonna have to get you a Minnesota Wilds jersey.”

“Hell no. That boy is LA born and bred. He’ll be wearing a Kings jersey like the civilized.” Michael announced with the sudden arrival of Theo and Poppy’s Uncle Harry.

“Mommy? When are we going to Stralia?” Poppy inquired from right beside your leg. Her tiny handheld is the giant one of her dad.

“In a few weeks. Are you excited to see the mommy’s old friends again?”

“Hm. Can we see Dada?”

Buck may be Poppy’s father, but he’d never let Poppy go without knowing she had two fathers in all. Her first one waiting to meet here decades from the time she was born and solely referenced Lucas as Dada. Buck was grateful for the man who brought Poppy into existence; the little green-eyed tot Buck could never regret. Unlike Buck’s parents keeping his older brother’s existence a secret, the firefighter refused to follow in their footsteps. He’d continue to shower the late Lucas in gratitude and respect. He refused to make the same mistakes as Phillip and Margaret Buckley.

“Of course. C’mon Poppy, time to say goodbye.” Buck guided the little girl to the extended family showering her little brother with love. The little girl was quickly swung into Bobby’s arms, and Athena cooing at your infant son.

Changes. The six-letter word doesn’t have to be terrifying. It can be breathtaking, memorable and beautiful to experience. 

Tag List(s):  (PLEASE SEND AN INBOX TO BE ADDED! I CANNOT GUARANTEE YOU WILL BE ON THE LIST VIA POST COMMENTS!)

9-1-1 Taglist:

@julessbrown 

Julie and the Phantoms Taglist:

[matan4il]

I am very much like you. I manage and keep my expectations very low for my ships. Like the cell block episode, I was one of the few who was like let's not get ahead of ourselves. And I was grateful because it was a great episode and lead to great things but had I wrote a different story in my head I would have been disappointed

So that's why I hate that all this us making me excited. The promo, the using of Ryan and Oliver. Even 2 weeks ago the nervous Buck arriving at Hens.

I actually feel comfortable getting in my head and I kind of hate it because I don't want it to be underwhelming.

I guess I was wondering where you were at head space wise after all this? Feeling very confident? Because I was honestly thinking if they went Canon in 6 it would be the end of the season and now I feel like shit could it really be the hiatus.

HI lovely Nonnie!

First of all, I hope it's okay to send you a hug! I get that feeling of being torn between like that initial buzz of excitement that things might be moving in that direction on the one hand, and the desire not to be set up for disappointment.

I have to say, I've seen the fandom getting SO excited and sure that canon Buddie was going to happen after 303 and Eddie's "there's nobody I trust in this world with my son more than you," after 309 with the kitchen flirting (that one had especially nasty fallout when 310 came and went without any canon Buddie), ahead of s4 when people started speculating Buddie spent covid as roommates, after the shooting in 413 and ahead of s5, around 506 as we started learning details about Buddie being held together at gun point after the shooting arc, around 517 when we gathered that Eddie was going home and he was going to confront Ramon and a lot of people thought it would be revealed that Eddie was punished by his dad for being gay. I also tried to assess the likelihood of this, because it was implied we'll learn about some unknown until now trauma, and I was wrecking my brain to find something that would fit Eddie, that would fit the tone of the show (i.e not too dark) and that wouldn't just be more of the same stuff we already know. Turned out, it was more of the same toxic masculinity stuff we knew about.

The thing is, it would have made sense for Buddie to go canon at any one of those points. It would have made sense to unveil some teenage experience that made Eddie suppress any same-sex attractions he might have only started becoming aware of. And yet none of that happened, so I'm glad that I did manage my expectations, and kept reminding myself that just because it's fun to scream now, doesn't mean I won't be disappointed later.

Obviously, I would rather not be disappointed during actually watching the eps. So, if I'm not married to a specific scenario I built up in my head, I end up being much more content while watching. And of course, as I said here, I do wanna feel happy about the show even if Buddie will never become canon. But more than that, I do wanna believe that eventually we will get canon Buddie. Because nothing else will ever fit either one of those guys, and because I wanna believe in our show being brave enough to go there.

So if and when we do get canon Buddie, I know that celebrating it, screaming and jumping up and down, and just basically losing my goddamn mind would be that much better, precisely because it's not something I'm doing constantly, every time there's a shadow of a possibility that it'll happen soon. I'm reserving all that for when it's the real thing, and that's gonna make how hyped I will be when it finally happens special and that much sweeter.

So am I seeing signs that might mean Buddie could go canon in s6? There are some. IDK that I would say they're definitive. We've had both Buck and Eddie be single at the same time with both of them getting out of meaningful relationships before. Ryan and Oli doing an interview together is awesome, but it's one interview that we know about so far, right? Not more than that. So maybe it's meaningful, or maybe it's Fox feeling 911 needs to do more promoting for its ratings, and why not send in the most popular pair on the show? Based on experience from previous fandoms, I don't put much stock into social media stuff. It's why I wasn't that distressed when Ryan and Oliver unfollowed each other, and it's also why, while I'm glad they've re-followed each other, I wouldn't try to read too much into it. Much like the interview, it could be very meaningful, but it might be about something we're not even aware of and that has nothing to do with Buddie going canon.

So I'm very much in my cool, calm and collected element, which IMO is a good thing. It's not me being Debbie Downer. It's me saving the celebrations for when 911 takes us all out like a freaking sniper in the middle of a shooting arc. Too soon? ;) Sorry, my sense of humor is lame. But I hope that in spite of me not being hyped, this reply isn't a disappointing one to you, darling! xoxox

(If you’re looking for my ask replies, here is my ask tag! xoxox)

[comfortbucky]

𝗻𝗼𝘁-𝘀𝗼-𝘀𝗲𝗰𝗿𝗲𝘁 𝗰𝗼𝗻𝗳𝗲𝘀𝘀𝗶𝗼𝗻𝘀 ⋆｡˚ ☁︎ ˚｡⋆｡˚☽

WAIT HI HELLO HEADCANON OF (tfatws!bucky) ROOMMATE!BUCKY SECRETLY CONFESSING HIS FEELINGS TO THE READER WHILE THEY'RE SLEEPING BUT HE DOESN’T KNOW THEY HEARD HIM

gif credit: @buckysbarnes

pairing: roommate!bucky x gender neutral!reader

tags: roommate!bucky, soft!bucky, friends to lovers, fluff

A/N: BESTIES THIS IS SO LONG LMAO MY B

my masterlist!

u landed a dream job in ur dream location: brooklyn, ny

and u were absolutely ecstatic

the only issue was money

the cost of living in nyc is ridiculous

so u needed a roommate

it just so happened that around the same time, that a certain super soldier was looking for a place in his hometown brooklyn, as he was finally starting a “normal life” or whatever dr raynor said

so u found a 2 bedroom apartment and put signs up around the surrounding area in search of a roommate

u keep it super simple, not wanting to reveal too much about urself bc u figure that might attract creeps

ur friends called u old fashioned for that, but u figured posting online on craigslist would result with u, on the news, dead, bc u ended up living with a serial killer

bucky is walking around the familiar, but very different, streets when he comes across ur roommate ad and decides to go for it (he’s already lost steve what else does he have to lose)

so he takes a number and waits until he gets to the hotel room he’s been staying at to call

ur simultaneously nervous and excited about ur first, and only, response to ur roommate ad bc u have no idea what to expect but also desperate to find anyone who can help split the cost

“hello?” ur question is met by a low, husky voice

bucky is thrown off by the softness of ur voice but quickly pulls it together

“hi, i’m bucky. i saw ur flyer for a roommate.”

u are really glad this is being done over the phone because this man’s voice alone is making ur cheeks heat up

u guys plan a time for bucky to come over and take a look at the place before he finalizes his decision

the day arrives and u feel ur stomach doing flips when u hear him knock at ur door

u open the door are immediately drawn to his piercing, ocean-blue eyes

bucky is immediately captivated by ur beauty, he avoids ur gaze for a moment, looks back up when u greet him

“hey.” u give him a small smile and he returns it

“hi.”

u move to the side to let him in

this man literally had no criteria in mind for finding an apartment other than it being close to a park for his walks at ungodly hours of the night

so he accepts

ur friendship starts off… slow

at first, u both mind ur business, living ur lives and barely speaking

everytime bucky came back to the apartment he would just walk into his room, shut the door and stay there

u rarely saw him, and honestly wondered when he ate because he was literally never in the common areas of ur apartment

but u were preoccupied with starting ur job that u didn’t mind at all because he was a good roommate, never made a mess, paid on top, and was fairly quiet

sometimes u would hear him wake up in the middle of the night and leave, closing the door to ur apartment so gently, as to not wake u up

the first time u guys spent time together was when he went on his first date

he didn’t tell u about it beforehand, of course, but u were sat on the couch, binge watching new girl when he walked out of his room and headed straight for the exit, saying nothing

u could smell the cologne he put on (it smelt like pine trees) and had a feeling it was a date bc u had never smelled that cologne before and he had spent like an hour in the bathroom right before he left

it must have been 45 minutes tops before he stormed back into the apartment and went to the kitchen to grab a beer

u immediately knew something was off and that he was upset from his body language and the fact that his date lasted less than an hour

“hey, u okay?” ur question is met with a grunt

u see bucky start to retreat from the kitchen to his room and u decide to say something again

“do u wanna watch tv with me?”

bucky pauses in front of his bedroom door before he turns around, nods, and plops himself on the couch next to u

he makes sure to leave some space between u guys, wanting to be respectful

u both sit in silence for a bit until a joke is made onscreen and u giggle

bucky turns to u and can’t help the soft smile that forms on his lips

he falls asleep that night, dreaming about what he could do or say to hear the sound of ur laugh again and doesn’t have a nightmare

from then on, movie nights became a regular occurrence in the apartment (once a week MINIMUM)

ur regular bonding experience helps u form a stronger friendship with bucky, having thoughtful conversations with each other

he’s thankful that u don’t ever push him into talking about something he’s uncomfortable with or not ready to talk about

u always just offer a smile and shift the conversation

u see him more in the common areas, even just to sit at the dining room table to read a book in silence

and the gap that once existed between u guys gets smaller and smaller every movie night

for a bit, nothing more ever happened other than ur thighs touching each other, side by side

until one night when u had a really long day at work and end up falling asleep during the movie, ur head landing right on bucky’s shoulder

at first he’s startled by it but looks down to see the light from the screen making ur skin glow in the dark

he’s taken by ur beauty, observing every little detail from the shape of ur nose to ur soft lips

and then he immediately snaps out of it bc he realizes how creepy he must be

and now he’s panicking internally bc he doesn’t know what to do

he doesn’t want to wake u up because u had just told him about ur exhausting day at work

but he also doesn’t want to let u fall asleep in this position bc he knows ur neck is going to be sore in the morning

he makes the decision to try and shift ur body so that ur laying on the couch

and as he’s being so careful to move u, scared that he might wake u, u start to stir and he freezes

u remain asleep and end up snuggling up closer to him and he feels his heart skip a beat

with ur repositioning, he’s able to easily pick u up, bridal style, and carries u to ur room and lays u down onto ur bed

as he’s starting to stand up, he stops, realizing ur hand has a firm grip on his sleeve

u mumble, so softly, that if he didn’t have super soldier hearing he probably wouldn’t have understood it

“stay.”

bucky feels his heart racing and can’t help but smile

he gently shifts u over, making room to lie down on his side next to u

he leaves a little bit of space bc he’s nervous he misheard u or something

but then u move ur body closer to his, resting ur head on his chest and draping an arm across his side to pull urself closer and let out a content sigh

ur half-awake at this point, but u don’t let bucky know that, selfishly wanting to do anything to remain in his arms

bucky is frozen in absolute shock

he can’t remember the last time he cuddled with someone

let alone someone he started to develop feelings for

he quickly snaps out of his thoughts to wrap his arm around u, holding u close to him and rests his chin on the top of ur head

he places his other hand on the top of ur head, gently stroking ur head

bucky thinks he must be dreaming

he places a gentle, soft kiss on ur forehead, before whispering his confession

“wish i could call u mine, doll.”

bucky’s heart literally stops as he sees ur eyes flutter open to look up and see him, paralyzed in fear

u smile and kiss him on the cheek

“u should.”

all of bucky’s worries immediately faded away as soon as u smiled at him

he smiles back, feeling the most happy he’s felt in 90 years

he replies by gently tipping ur chin up to him and placing a soft kiss on ur lips

“so happy ur mine.”

[anyoneseenadam]

Hey! I love your writing so much! Would you be open to write something about Azriel with a fae in Velaris who his shadows actively seek out and he has no idea why. I imagine that she works at a large library and that's where they meet because Azriel would go to figure out what was so special about her. Thanks!

pairing: azriel x reader (acotar)

warnings: implied smut, drinking, men being gross at bars (doesn’t go into detail), mainly just fluff and awkwardness though :)))

a/n: I rlly like this one so I hope you do to!! comments are always appreciated, hope you enjoy <3

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

 Azriel was standing with Cassian in a small street in Velaris. The ground beneath him was cobbled and all the houses in this area were brightly coloured, the sun seeming to shine brighter over them. They were waiting for Mor as she demanded they help her buy Rhysand a birthday present, desperate to get someone, anyone a good present. She was in a small local shop after Cassian suggested that he would love something from any small business and Cassian let out a groan as he realised she had wandered deeper into the shop. They had already been waiting twenty minutes for her.

“I’m going to drag her out,” Cassian said pushing off the wall and Azriel huffed a breath through his nose.

“Please be quick, don’t let her scare you into staying.” Cassian threw a rude symbol over his shoulder and Azriel grinned reservedly.

He let his gaze travel over more of the houses, his gaze catching on a white house with blue accents, and a blue balcony where a girl sat sipping an orange drink from a large glass and reading a book. He observed her for a while, she was sat curled in a straw chair with a colourful cushion and there was soft music coming from her house, her hair was down and natural and her face was clear of makeup as she soaked in the sun, wearing a males oversized shirt and some knee high socks.

Feeling his stare on her she looked up, grinning cheekily at him when he flushed red and lifting her glass to him in greeting. He was saved from further embarrassment though when Cassian came out, dragging a triumphant Mor who was holding up a purple, silk shirt and bottle of wine. Cassian made a gagging face behind her back as she linked arms with both of them, dragging them down the road and chatting their ears off about the kind old lady from the shop.

As they left Azriel dared a final glance over his shoulder to the girl from the balcony who was still watching him, cocking her head, and waving as he left. As they walked home, choosing to enjoy the sun, he heard nothing of what Mor said, completely focused on the girl from the balcony.

--

When they got home Mor winnowed away to hide her present and Cassian made a comment about Mor’s unique ability to always get horrendous presents. They walked through the door and Feyre instantly looked up from her spot of the sofa, gaze narrowing at Azriel.

“You look different.” She said and Rhys looked up too, frowning when he saw Feyre was right.

“What did you change?” he asked as Amren walked into the room, her head tilting.

“Nothing.” He said defensively as everyone stared at him, not enjoying the way everyone was looking at him now and wishing he could be alone to daydream about the pretty girl he had seen.

“Haircut?” suggested Nesta but he shook his head.

“I haven’t changed anything!” Mor was back now too and had joined in staring, gasping when she realised.

“Where are your shadows?!”

“Ohhhhhhh, that’s it,” Cassian said, sitting down next to his mate as Azriel felt for the shadows that followed him, feeling a rush of white-hot panic shoot through him when he couldn’t feel them.

“Wait what? Where are they then?” Rhys asked and he shook his head, searching for them and frowning when he felt them far away.

“They’re still in Velaris, they must have just stayed somewhere,” he tried to explain.

“Is there another shadow singer in Velaris?” Amren asked and Rhys shook his head.

“Not that we know of,” Azriel felt a flood of relief as his shadows flew back in, almost sheepishly and settled around him, whispering complaints and apologies, as he wondered what had kept them.

--

You had frowned when the handsome, winged male had left, rather enjoying the eye candy. Your friend walked back outside and took her seat opposite you, as you placed down your book and picked up your Apperol Spritz.

“You just missed the hottest male I’ve ever seen.” You said, laughing at her as her face fell completely.

“Why didn’t you shout for me!” she screeched, and you flung an olive pit at her head,

“He would have heard me idiot!”

“Well did you at least get a name?”

“No but I made prolonged eye contact and I think he got the message.”

“The message being?”

“That I would like to marry him and have his babies.”

“Ah makes sense,” you were laughing together as she carried on with the story she had been telling you about the cute Faerie at her work when you felt a cold feeling settle around you, strange given you were still sat in the sun. She stopped talking, giving you a weird look.

“How are you doing that?” she asked as you shrugged.

“I’m not,” the feeling moved, and you realised you were surrounded by shadows, alike the handsome man you had just seen. Your initial anxiety slipped away as they started playing with your hair and caressing your skin alike a lover would. “Hot boy had shadows like this,” you commented, and your friend gasped, eyes wide and a hand over her heart as she sighed.

“Maybe you’re mates!” you rolled your eyes, relaxing into the shadows touch.

“I don’t think my commitment issues can take that,” you joked, and it was her turn to roll her eyes.

“That cynicism is going to be the death of you,” she said in a singsong voice before downing her gin, “Now onto important matters, Rita’s or The Marine?”

--

Two hours later you were completely dolled up, lips red and eyeliner smudged, heeled boots elongating your legs and your all-black outfit making you look intimidating enough that you wouldn’t be bothered by gross men.

“We’re fae, why do you dress like a vampire,” your friend asked, the two of you already slightly buzzed from pre’s.

“Cause vampires are hot and I’m hot so it’s a match made in heaven.”

“Also she has a blood kink!” your roommate shouted from the bathroom and you threw a shoe at her.

“Bitch.” You said, laughing as she came out and the three of you stood to leave.

“Am I wrong?” she asked, and you shoved her, muttering a small no under your breath.

The three of you made your way to Rita’s and got in the queue. You leaned against the cold, brick wall when you saw him again, similarly dressed in all black and somehow looking even better under the light of the moon, his tanned skin glowing in the pale light. He caught your eyes, his face barely changing as he lifted his hand in a half wave, you nodded your head up with a smirk. Your friends followed your gaze, both gasping slightly as they caught sight of him at the end of the queue with his friends.

“Is that hot boy?!”

“Uh huh,” you smiled cheekily at her, “And I call dibs.”

“I get why you want to have his babies,”

“Wait you know him?” your roommate asked, and you shrugged with a smile. “How the fuck do you know the high lords shadow singer?”

“I get around,”

“He was outside earlier today,” your friend translated as the three of you moved into the club, instantly heading to the bar for more drinks.

“That too I guess, shots?” the three of you ordered six vodka shots and you laughed at your friends’ reactions to them.

“How do you enjoy this,” your roommate squealed as you tipped your head back, smiling at the familiar burn.

“Feels good,” you said, taking your second.

“Sadist.”

--

Azriel couldn’t believe his eyes. There you were again, your bare face swapped for dark makeup, and loose clothes swapped for a dress he desperately wanted to see on his floor. At first he wasn’t even sure it was the same girl, your style so different, but it was. And he had waved. No cool head tilt like the one you gave him, no sultry eyes, and pouting lips, just a stupid wave. And then you had laughed with your friends and he decided he needed the sound bottled, something to keep with him at all times.

You had walked inside without so much as a second glance and Azriel had to refrain himself from slamming his head against the wall.

“Who were you waving at?” Amren asked, the small women appearing next to him.

“Just someone I met earlier.” He didn’t want to get into the details, especially not around Cassian who would tease him relentlessly if he heard. Amren, thankfully, dropped it as they moved into Rita’s, his eyes instantly finding you at the bar, two empty shot glasses next to you as you laughed with your friends.

He moved with his family to a table that pretty remained reserved for them as Rita came to get them some drinks and see if they wanted food. He only half listened, ordering a Scotch as he watched you as you and your friends moved to dance together, completely enamoured by you despite not having said anything to you.

Eventually he pulled his eyes away and focused on his friends and his drink as they laughed into the small hours of the night. He kept stealing glances at you, his grip on his glass tightening when he saw you leaning against the bar waiting for drinks as a male leaned too close to you. He almost stood to intervene when saw you lean in close to the man, meeting Azriel’s eyes over his shoulder and whispering in his ear. Azriel wished he could hear what you said but you were too far away, and the music was too loud, but whatever it was, the male turned white and scampered away, almost tripping over his feet as you giggled.

When it happened this time he noticed, feeling the coolness of his shadows leave and he watched as they travelled over to you, wrapping around you, and making you look like an angel of death. You turned and caught his eyes, winking at him before grabbing the tray of drinks the bartender had laid out for you and sauntering over to your friends.

“Is she a shadow singer?” Feyre asked, following his gaze and he shook his head, feeling a smile come over his face as he watched you interact with your drunk friends.

“No I think they just like her,” his high lady smiled at him,

“You mean you like her,”

“I haven’t even spoken to her.” He said drily and Nesta leaned over,

“Love at first sight,” she said in a singsong voice making him roll his eyes.

“This isn’t a romance book,” he said, huffing as a crowd moved in front of you and he couldn’t see you anymore.

“You tell yourself that,” Feyre said, patting his knee.

An hour later, when most the club was empty, you were standing, swaying slightly with your friend leaning on you.

“No baby, no more you’ll throw up again,” he heard you coo as she reached for a drink that was left on someone table. She huffed but you passed her into the arms of your other friend, and he sat up straight when he realised you were coming over to him.

You bowed your head slightly at Rhys and Feyre as all his friends turned to stare at you, your gaze unfaltering and your back straight as you looked at him.

“I think these belong to you,” you said, gesturing to the shadows swirling around your arms.

He tried to fight his blush, pulling them back in, “Yeah, thanks..?” he trailed off and you finished for him.

“(y/n).”

“Azriel.”

“Well Azriel,” his name sounded divine on your tongue, and you shot him another half-smile, “see you around.”

--

The next day, he was up only three hours after he fell asleep, desperate to find you. He wandered into town, usual leathers swapped for a white shirt collar peeking out of a dark sweater, his hands tucked into his pockets as he found himself wandering down your cobblestoned street. He looked up to your balcony and considered throwing rocks at the glass doors like in one of Nesta’s romance novels but paused when he saw all the lights were turned off.

Instead he chose to wander into the shop Mor had been in the previous day. The room smelt old, and he could see the dust moving in the morning light as he walked in. An old lady was behind the counter and she smiled as she recognised him.

“Hello, how can I help you?” she asked as he came to stand in front of her.

“I actually had a question,” she motioned for him to continue, “Do you know where I could find (y/n)?” he asked, and she smiled a knowing smile.

“Interested in my granddaughter are you?” she asked, eyes sparkling and Azriel rubbed the back of his neck, smiling nervously, “She works at the library in the square, I’m sure you’ll find her there.”

He thanked her and she waved him away, knowing she would get to hear all the details next Wednesday when the two of you met for tea. But until then she was happy to watch the handsome man leave to find you.

He flew to the library that your grandmother had mentioned and walked in. This was always one of his favourite places to come in the city. The bookshelves were tall and overflowing, candles covered the room, and there were huge glass windows on the far wall that cast the room in planes of light. He walked around for a while, letting his shadows lead him until he found you with a pile of books in your arms that you were going to return.

You smiled when you saw him, dressed in a black dress with lots of daisies on it that went halfway down your calf, a black cardigan, and black boots. Your hair was held back in a low bun, but you had strands falling out making you look impossibly cute, and he almost said as much as he moved to take some books from your arms.

“So are you stalking me now?” you had asked cheekily, and he stammered when he realised just how weird he looked.

“No, no I…”

“Relax I’m teasing, I’m glad you’re here actually.”

“You are?” he asked, relaxing slightly as you stood on your tiptoes to put a book on a shelf.

“Yes, you’re very pretty,” he laughed, and you smiled at him, your eyes creasing.

“Well so are you,” he replied as you turned to face him, “But you do keep stealing my shadows and I’m wondering why that is?”

“I’m stealing them am I? I just presumed that you were very mean to them and they wanted someone else,”

“They’re spoiled,” he joked, watching as they trailed up your arms and you giggled,

“You speak about them like they’re pets.”

“You’d be surprised how accurate that actually is,” he muttered as you moved to the next aisle and your laughter bounced of the walls, wincing slightly due to your drinking induced headache.

He went to help you with more books when his fingers touched your hand and the word hit him, mate. You looked up at him shocked before giggling.

“I guess that’s what the shadows meant,” you let out an ‘oomph’ as suddenly the shadows shot forward, pushing you into his chest and Azriel looked at you.

“I have a mate.” He repeated to himself.

“And I have commitment issues so this might be rough,”

“It’s fine I have attachment issues,” he replied, unable to stop the smile forming on his face, “Match made in heaven.”

“More like hell,” you joked as he leaned down to you.

“Can I kiss you?” he practically whispered, lips almost touching yours as his wings circled the two of you. You nodded slightly and the two of you stumbled back from the force of the kiss, his hands gripping your waist tightly as yours wove into his hair, grinning against his mouth.

“Azriel,” you muttered between kisses, pulling back slightly only to just be pulled right back in. You repeated his name again, successfully pulling away this time as his lips attached to your neck.

“Az, we’re in a public library.”

“So?”

“So we can continue this when I’m off work,” you shoved him off with a laugh as he grumbled, before pulling you in for a final kiss.

“What time?” he asked.

“My shift ends at three,” you smiled as he looked at the clock.

“It’s only eight,”

“Maybe wait at your house,” you laughed at his expression, pressing a chaste kiss to his mouth before walking off, shooting him a smirk over you shoulder.

Only six hours, fifty-nine minutes left.

[tsumucore]

LUCID DREAMS

✎ … Miya Atsumu

word count: 5.2k

warnings: NSFW, pwp, daddy kink, a lot of degradation, spanking, choking, sexting, overstimulation, masturbation, he kinda spits in your mouth, just rough sex overall

All characters are 18+ !!!!

A/N: this is my first nsfw fic, so pls bear with me 🥺  I’m also dedicating this to @starboybokuto and @strawbericream for inspiring me and also bc they’re literally smut icons in the fandom and after writing this, I’m realizing just how hard it it to do and I just wanna appreciate them for all the effort they put in <3

｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ

His moans were like honey, pouring from his sweet lips and into your ears, as his thrusts became erratic. He was close. The sounds of your own pleasure filled the room before he swallowed them up completely with his beautiful mouth. You were close. This space that was inhabited by you two was the only dimension where time didn’t exist. Nothing else mattered in this moment, except for each other. You were so, so, so, so, so clo-

“Wake up!”

Your roommate’s exclamation breaks you out of your lust-filled slumber with a jolt. You groan and silently curse her as details of the dream gradually come back to you; she’d have to make a run for it if she valued her life, or at least avoiding getting smacked in the face by the pillow you throw at her with impressive force.

“Y/N, what did I do? she whines. “You told me to wake you up. I only did what you said!”

“Literally fuck you, I was having a good dream,” you fire back.

“MAN if you don’t… anyway shouldn’t you be in class by now?” Your eyes widen as you fumble for your phone to check the time.

“Shit!” Usually, you wouldn’t have bothered showing up if you were running late, but this class took attendance, and you were already on the cusp between two letter grades. A menial attendance point could be the difference between maintaining your GPA or tarnishing it.

You wash up in record time, throw on some clothes, and shove your necessary belongings in your backpack before slinging it on your back. You don’t even have time to fill up your water bottle; you’d just have to purchase one on campus later. You pop in your earbuds, select a random playlist, and fly out the door.

You don’t stop until you reach the lecture hall. You try not to cringe as you push open the door, slinking your way in the back to find an open seat; luckily, there was one near the door so your humiliation was short-lived. When you finally sit down and situate yourself, you take a deep breath for the first time that morning and collect your thoughts.

As your mind wanders, memories of your erotic dream come back to you. The faintest of color tints your cheeks, and you shift slightly in your seat as you subtly cross your legs. You pull out your phone, preparing to fire a text at lightning speed. You need your boyfriend.

Y/N: i miss you

Atsumu: :))

Y/N: im not trying to gas ur big head up even more than it already is i’m just whore knee

Atsumu: OH????? aren’t you in class rn?

Y/N: i’d rather be choking on your fat cock tbh

Atsumu: naughty girl, why are you saying such things in the middle of class?

Y/N: what are you gonna do about it... choke me? spank me? make me cum over and over and over again?

Atsumu: Watch your mouth, baby...

Y/N: Ok...

Y/N: ...daddy.

Fighting the smile tugging at your lips, you set your phone on ‘do not disturb’ and refocus your attention on the professor’s droning voice. By the time lecture was over, you scramble out of the building, eager to make a quick call to your boyfriend so you could describe to him in specific detail everything you wanted him to do to you.

Alas, you heard the voices of your friends calling out to you, so you’re forced to sit through idle chit-chat until your next class starts. Of course, today was also a full day, so you would have to endure the rest of your classes, your position as a TA, and the study session your classmates were pulling together at the library for your next exam - which just so happened to be in two days, meaning you couldn’t opt out. At this rate, you wouldn’t be leaving campus until dark. And it was only 10 in the morning.

While you daydream in your next class, you’re broken out of your reverie by the realization that you had neglected to check your phone after effectively ending the conversation with Atsumu the way that you had. You unlock your phone, seeing that you have just one unread message from him - a photo. 

You know what’s coming before you even open it, so you’re careful to ensure that your screen isn’t in anyone’s line of sight - luckily, you were sitting in the back again, so there aren’t any prying eyes over your shoulder. You turn down the brightness and open the conversation before practically salivating on the spot.

You have an idea of what exactly the photo was going to be of, but nothing could prepare you for the effect it had on you.

It’s evident that he had propped up his phone on something and taken the photo on self-timer. Bleached tufts of hair fell over his forehead as he winked back at you through the screen with his lips pursed as if he was going to kiss someone. The only thing he wore was a gold chain around his neck. He was flashing a peace sign with one hand, while the other was wrapped around a good sized erection.

You feel your mouth dry up and your thighs subconsciously squeeze together. The way this photo was triggering a physiological reaction from your body was astounding. You need this man, and you need him now. You whisper to your friend that you had to use the bathroom, that you might be gone for a while - it must have been the iced coffee going straight through you - and to let you know if you missed anything. You try not to trip over anyone’s legs in your haste to get to the restroom.

Since this was a fairly large building, there were multiple restrooms, and so you locate the one you know is always empty and secluded - the one below the main floor. Once you enter, you do a quick check in each stall to make sure you’re alone before locking the door. You go into the biggest stall and commence with your plan of action.

You take off your shirt and bra and neatly hang them on the hooks behind the stall door. The sudden exposure to the chilly air makes you shiver as your nipples harden in response. You then bring your phone up to your chest, so that your face isn't in frame and begin to record yourself lightly massaging your breasts. You make sure to softly moan Atsumu’s name when you pinch your nipple, rolling it between your thumb and index finger. After about thirty seconds, you promptly send the footage to your boyfriend.

He immediately starts facetiming you which causes your thighs to squeeze together expectantly. When you answer the call, you’re greeted with dark, lustful eyes and a shit-eating grin.

“I heard someone missed me today.” His tone is slightly mocking, indicative of something deeper underneath.

“I had a dream about you,” you inform him as you slowly begin to massage your breasts the way you had before.

“Yeah? What happened in your dream?” His eyes darken as he shrewdly observes the way you sigh as your fingers glide over your nipples. God, he wished he could just take them in between his teeth.

You bite your lip in response to his tone becoming increasingly huskier. “I dreamed about you… fucking me.” Your voice falters a bit as you suddenly feel a wave of shyness rush over you. Atsumu often had this effect on you - sure, there was no limit to the amount of things you had done together; however, he was still able to make you feel flustered, as if it was the first time all over again.

“How naughty,” he scoffs. “You love actin’ so innocent, but what would people say if they really knew what was goin’ on in that pretty little head of yours? What would they say if they saw what you were tellin’ me in the middle of class? Do ya know what they would say, dollface?”

You can’t bring yourself to respond, only managing a feeble shaking of your head.

“They would call you a whore. A filthy, depraved slut. And do ya know what sluts get?”

Again, another feeble shake.

“Nothing. Sluts get nothing,” he laughs mockingly as he angles his phone until you have an adequate view of the way he’s been stroking himself this entire time. “And now, dollface, you’re gonna have to watch me get myself off. I want your hands off of yourself entirely... If I catch you touchin’ yourself even once, you get nothing. But if you’re good, I might just play with ya later.”

You whimper at his order, but you have no choice; you had brought this upon yourself by getting him riled up with those texts in the first place. As you swallow thickly, he begins to jerk himself off - slowly at first, torturing you with each stroke as he looks directly through the camera and into your eyes. He then begins to pick up the pace as heavy pants and the occasional moan escapes from his mouth.

“See what ya did to me, baby? This is all because of you.” His breathing grows erratic as he edges closer and closer to his release. “And now look at you. Watchin’ a man jerk off in a public restroom, with your tits out, when you’re supposed to be in class like a good girl. Now tell me, does that sound like a good girl?”

You merely whimper in response.

“Answer me,” he practically growls. “Does. That. Sound. Like. A. Good. Girl.”

“No,” you whisper as you feel a surge of arousal rush to your core. You knew your panties would be suffering thoroughly by the time you returned to class.

“Then tell me, dollface. What. Are. You.” Each enunciation is emphasized with a hard stroke to his cock - the same way he would be thrusting into you. It takes absolutely everything in you not to sneak your hand down to your throbbing clit; he’d know if you did, he always did. The prospect of not being touched by him later was unthinkable, so you continue to helplessly watch him fuck his own hand.

“I’m a filthy whore, your filthy whore,” you whine in compliance as you watch him thrust into his hand a few more times before letting out a long, drawn out moan and spilling his release all over himself. You can’t help the moan that escapes your own lips as you take in the sight of his flushed face and heavy rising and falling of his chest.

“You actually listened to me for once? This is a surprise,” he chuckles once he recovers from his orgasm. “Hurry up and come over… I’ll fuck ya ‘til you can’t even remember your own name.”

•.｡.༺✩༻.｡.•

For the rest of the day, you hoped you were doing a relatively adequate job of hiding your arousal as you went about your responsibilities. You were literally counting down the seconds until you were finished with everything so you could meet up with Atsumu and let him fuck you like he promised. At one point, you caught yourself almost drooling during your group study session at the library. You took this as your cue to leave, so you politely excused yourself by letting the others know that it was time for you to leave as you had to get up early the next morning.

After what felt like the longest and, thanks to Atsumu, the most torturous day ever, you felt completely ravenous. From the second you had woken up, you had been straight up horny, and the fact that you hadn't been able to take care of it was driving you insane. You had been rushed all day, never having a moment to yourself, and when you did, Atsumu had specifically instructed you not to satisfy yourself the way you needed to be satisfied. It was unfair.

To make matters worse, you missed the train that would take you to Atsumu’s apartment as he lived quite a while away from your campus. The next train would be leaving in an hour, which was just too much for you at this point. Delay after delay. You grit your teeth in frustration as you weigh your options: you could wait another painstaking hour for the train that would inevitably take you to your dick appointment or you could spend a fortune by calling for a taxi and getting there right now. While you mentally calculate your finances, your clit throbs just slightly when you cross your legs, which causes you to throw all thoughts of being a penniless college student out the window in favor of getting fucked mercilessly as soon as possible.

•.｡.༺✩༻.｡.•

Of course the elevator in Atsumu’s apartment building was currently out of order at that moment, leaving you with no other choice but to climb the seven flights of stairs to his apartment. At this point, you feel like you’re running on some sort of primal instinct as you sprint up the stairs with the vigor possessed by only someone who’s about to be dicked down. By the time you reach his door, you’re already huffing and puffing, but your own exhaustion escapes your mind as you ring his doorbell impatiently. Once the door swings open, you’re greeted with the sight of your boyfriend smirking back at you.

The motherfucker wore nothing but loose gray sweatpants that hung dangerously low on his hips and the same gold chain around his neck from earlier. You chuck your backpack on the floor and throw yourself onto him, pressing your lips against his (minty?) ones. The kiss is sloppy and intense as you try to make him feel the desperation you had been forced to endure all day long. 

Somehow, your clothes find themselves on the ground in a matter of seconds. He lightly slaps at your thigh, a signal for you to jump into his arms. When you do, your hands immediately find themselves tangled in his hair, and you tug at the roots lightly, earning a growl from him. You gasp and moan into his mouth when you feel his hands give your ass a good squeeze. He manages to carry you like this into his bedroom before gently dropping you onto his bed, where he palms himself above you as he gazes at your nude form. On god, you can literally see his dick print through his sweats, and it only fuels the wetness forming between your thighs.

“Atsumu, I’ve been waiting all fucking day long. Stop being an asshole and fuck me already like you promised,” you whine as you reach your hands up to rub them along his abdomen, relishing in the feeling of his abs beneath your fingertips. You were hoping that this would coax him into giving you what you want, but he merely ceases his actions and raises an eyebrow at you.

“Who do you think you are, talkin’ to me like that?” His eyes narrow, and he leans down so that he’s hovering directly above you. “Is my baby so goddamn horny that she actually forgot her manners?” His hand comes up to wrap around your throat, gradually squeezing it harder as he glares at you. “Looks like I’ll have to remind ya how to properly speak to me. Turn over - I want that ass up in the air.” 

You pout as you obey his command and flip over on your knees so that your face is shoved into the pillow and your ass is sticking straight up for him, bracing yourself for what you know is about to come.

“You know the drill, since you wanna be such a goddamn slut - count for daddy.” Before you can respond, his hand collides with your left asscheek, causing you to yelp and moan, “One,” weakly into the pillow. The sting doesn’t last for very long, but you know better - by tomorrow, you won’t be able to sit properly.

He continues delivering powerful slaps to your ass and admires the way it jiggles with every smack and the redness blooming across the soft flesh. Every so often, he plunges two fingers into your now sopping heat, without warning. He removes them as quickly as he puts them in, causing you to whine in frustration. By the time you reach ten spanks, you’re babbling incoherently as you wiggle your hips in the air, clenching around nothing and desperate for anything to fill you up.

He flips you back over on your back and scoffs at your desperation. “Have you learned your lesson, whore?” It’s not a question - it’s a demand.

As much as you want to do or say whatever he wants so that he can fuck you already, it’s always more fun to see what happens when you piss him off. You jut out your lower lip in a pout and stare up at him defiantly. “No.”

Before you know it, you’re being flipped back onto your stomach. Another round of brutal spankings are delivered to your asscheeks, causing tears to prick your eyes as the burning pain sets in. You’re going to be sore for the next week.

“Leave it to a whore to be so mouthy,” he growls as he flips you over on your back again and thrusts two fingers into your cunt. “But you like this, don’t ya? You like pissin’ me off, because you like getting your pretty little ass spanked and you like being choked, whether it’s by my hand or on my cock. I should shut you up with my cock, since you wanna be so mouthy. Tell me, do ya like choking on cock, whore?”

“Yes, daddy,” you moan quite loudly. The combination of his degrading words and consistent thrusting of his fingers in and out of your pussy was sending you into a haze.

“Of course you fucking do,” he spits. “You told me so yourself when you were sitting all innocent in class. In fact, what else did ya tell me?” His thumb was now brushing vigorously against your clit during each thrust, causing your legs to shake violently. The whimpers falling from your lips grow louder as you focus on the buildup slowly forming in the pit of your stomach. However, your lack of response doesn’t impress him. He immediately pulls his fingers out and slaps your pussy, eliciting a jerk from your entire body and a drawn-out moan from the surprising sensation.

“Answer me, fuckdoll. Or you get nothing.” He literally shoves his fingers back in and continues his relentless thrusting, filling the room with the squelching sounds of your sloppy cunt. You scramble to remember the contents of the lewd texts you had sent him earlier that day, but your brain is so hazy from the orgasm you know is about to hit you, that you’re stumbling through your words.

“I-I said something about w-wanting to choke on your cock-” your sentence is cut off with a long moan as he applies direct pressure on your clit with his thumb.

“We established that already, dollface,” he scoffs. “What. Else.”

“I d-don’t remember,” you wail and thrash your head side to side against the pillow. Your release is so close, you can taste it. “Daddy, please let me cum - I’m going to cum!”

“Don’t remember? That’s a shame,” he remarks as he completely stops his actions and pulls his fingers out, yet again. You let out a scream of frustration at the fact that your orgasm was just cruelly ripped away from you. “Let’s see, maybe we need a refresher.” To your disbelief, he pulls out his phone and scrolls to the conversation from that morning. “Hmm, you told me to choke and spank you… Well, I’ve already done both of those, so what else?” His eyes narrow down at your quivering form and, to your relief, he puts his fingers back in you and continues thrusting. What was the last thing you told me, whore?”

“I-I told you to m-make me cum over and over a-again,” you gasp out as one final sharp thrust sends you completely over the edge. Before you know it, you’re screaming his name as you crash down from your high.

You moan in bliss as you feel the utter fucking release of the tension that had been building up inside you all day long. However, you barely have time to relax before you realize Atsumu’s still going at it in your now sensitive pussy.

“Tsumu,” you gasp as you feel your body jerking in response to the oversensitivity. “It’s s-so much… I-I c-can’t-”

The motherfucker literally laughs as he watches your face contort from the sheer overwhelming pleasure. “What? You asked for it. You’re droolin’ already and all I’ve given you are my fingers.” His jeering words ignite the fire building up for the second time as tears stream down your face from the overstimulation. “You tellin’ me you want me to stop?” He stuffs a third finger inside, stretching you even further and eliciting even more delicious cries from your lips. It felt like his fingers were thrusting even harder and faster, if that was possible.

“N-no, keep g-going,” you wail before you’re hit with your second orgasm of the night. All that you’re able to get out is a blubbering combination of “daddy” and “Tsumu” as your vision goes white and you hear the roaring of your own blood in your ears.

Atsumu finally slides his fingers out of your drenched pussy, eyes fixating on the string from your fluids attached to them. He takes advantage of your still panting mouth to stuff his fingers in between your lips. “You know what to do.” His eyes darken as he watches you desperately suck on his fingers, tasting your own essence on them. After he feels that you’ve effectively done a thorough job of cleaning them off for him, he smirks and pulls them out before leaning down so that he’s hovering above you.

“Good girl. Open wide for your reward.” Once you comply, he works up a good amount of saliva and lets it fall in your mouth, directly on your tongue. You moan as you relish the taste of his spit and swallow it all. “Thank you daddy,” you beam up at him.

He draws himself back in satisfaction as he pulls his sweatpants off, freeing his rock hard length and letting it slap against his abdomen. As spent as you are from your previous orgasms, there’s nothing you’re craving more than for him to be balls deep in your tight pussy. He just remains where he is, stroking himself as he watches you grow impatient for him to do something already.

 “Tsumu,” you plead in the calmest tone you can muster. “Please fuck me already.”

He merely continues to pump his cock, much to your dismay. “How much do you want my big cock, whore?” Again, it isn’t a question.

“I want it more than anything in the whole wide world,” you beg. Each stroke to his cock only serves to increase your frustration.

“Prove it.”

You let out a groan and proceed to rub your tits, squeezing them together and rolling your nipples in between your fingers. In your attempt to please him, you notice the way Atsumu slightly picks up the pace of his strokes as he watches you play with your tits.

But it still isn’t enough for him.

“You can do better than that.”

Fucking hell. You let go of your breasts and spread your legs, hooking your hands behind your knees so that he has a perfect view of your pretty, spoiled pussy. Your cheeks burn as you bring your hand down to spread your lips, offering him access to your slick hole. “C’mon, Tsumuuuuu… I’m all good and ready for you.”

Atsumu swallows thickly and finally relents. He grabs your thighs and holds them open as he positions himself at your entrance and pushes into you. You’re so wet from your previous orgasms that he slides in easily, burying himself to the brim as he loses himself in the feeling of being fully sheathed inside you and lets out a long moan. It feels like your pussy is literally swallowing him up as he bottoms out. Your eyes roll back as you feel yourself being deliciously, oh so wonderfully, stretched. His fingers were heavenly on their own, but nothing in the world could compare to the feeling of his thick cock hitting all the right spots in you.

“Fuck, yeahhh. You’re so tight, fuck. How are ya so tight?” Atsumu’s breathing is heavy as he squeezes his eyes shut, relishing the sensation of your walls clenching around him. He starts thrusting slowly, checking your face for any signs of discomfort. However, you grow impatient and start wiggling your hips, urging him to go faster. He scoffs and slaps your breast in response. “Be patient, dollface. You’ll take what I give ya.” You whimper, but cease your actions. Atsumu must have apparently decided that was enough for him as well, because he picks up his speed. 

His hips slap against you from the brutal way he fucks you into oblivion. His strokes are deep and hard, causing you to turn into a sobbing mess. The room is filled with the sounds of his balls slapping against your ass and your cries begging him to not stop and go even harder. The way he pounds into you has your entire body rocking back and forth as you moan at the feeling of his pelvis meeting you with each movement. 

“M-more, daddy!” Drool is seeping out of the corners of your open mouth and your eyes are glazed over from the sheer feeling of him being balls deep in you.

“You love being fucked like this, don’t ya?” Atsumu’s grunts fill your ears and you clench even tighter at his words. “An’ it’s never enough for you. Insatiable whore.” He delivers a particularly sharp thrust at the word “whore” which makes you blubber nonsensically. You want to tell him that you’re his insatiable whore, but your words are jumbling together as all your senses are devoted to the way his cock is slamming in and out of your cunt.

At this rate, you’re about to cum again in no time. Atsumu picks up on this and makes you wrap your legs around him so he can pound into you even deeper from this new angle. The tip of his dick now hits your g spot with each brutal thrust, making you literally scream in delirium. He’s more than pleased at your response, which is why he suddenly halts his movements and tilts his head at you in the cockiest manner. You want to scream and swear at him in every language possible, but you’re in such disbelief that all you can muster is the dirtiest glare at him. He laughs at the way your hips involuntarily move around him.

“Look at ya, you’re so fuckin’ cockhungry. I’m not even doing anything and your pussy’s tryna suck me in.” Before you can protest, he suddenly pulls out so that just the tip of his dick is inside you and slams back in with no warning. He’s back to thrusting into you, hitting your g spot with immense force. 

Before you know it, the knot that had been forming in your stomach completely snaps. His eyes train on the way your tongue lolls out of your mouth and your eyes cross together as your mind goes completely blank when you cum yet again. Your pussy clenches around him, causing him to swear profusely, and your fluids gush out involuntarily. Your cheeks are flushed and your chest is covered in the sheen from your sweat. He lets go of your thighs and leans over to meet your lips with his, never stopping the steady rhythm of his thrusts. You pant into his mouth as the sound of your heartbeat pounds in your ears and the cool metal of his chain dangles against your skin. 

“C’mon, make that face again for me.” Atsumu begins to rub your clit harshly, eliciting a high-pitched mewl from you as your entire body shudders.

“I-I-I…” Your teeth are clenched and your eyes are squeezed shut as pressure fills your head from the overwhelming sensation spreading throughout your body. It’s all too much, and you’re not sure you can cum again.

“Give it to me one more time, pretty girl. I know you can do it, I gotcha.” Atsumu starts sucking on the sweet spot behind your ear and continues to fuck you with the vigor of a possessed man. The bedframe shakes uncontrollably from the way he pummels into you. His thumb rubbing furiously at your clit sends shock waves of pleasure throughout your overly sensitive body and before you know it, the familiar pressure is building up in your stomach again. 

“Oh my god, oh my god, oh my go-,” you chant as your eyes roll back in your head and you scream out his name while your vision goes completely white. Atsumu groans at the feeling of your tight walls milking his cock for everything he has. Your whole body is shaking, and you’re so wracked with pleasure that you can scarcely process the way his thrusts grow sloppy as he gets closer and closer to his own release.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck.” His groans fill the room as he erratically pummels into you to chase his high. 

“Cum inside me, daddy. Want you to fill me all the way up.” Your words are slurring together at this point due to the heady arousal clouding your mind, but they’re enough to tip Atsumu over the edge. He lets out a moan and his hips stutter to a stop as you’re overcome with the feeling of his cock twitching inside you and suddenly filling you to the brim with his cum.

Atsumu collapses on top of you and pants heavily in an attempt to catch his breath. The two of you are silent for a good few minutes before he gathers whatever strength is left in him to pull out of you. He remains somewhat on top of your utterly spent body and peppers kisses all over your face. “You good?”

“Never better,” you reach a hand up to stroke his hair, and he hums contentedly in response before rolling over to your side. He throws an arm over you, hugging you to his body and just stares at you lovingly.

“I wasn’t too rough on ya, was I?” His hand reaches down to your ass to rub soothingly at the marks left by him.  

“You were perfect, babe.” You grab his hand, intertwining your fingers with his own. “I’m sleeping good tonight, thanks to you.” He smiles at this and positions himself so that his head is tucked in the crook of your neck. He closes his eyes for a while as he savors the feeling of you stroking his hair and planting kisses on the top of his head.

“Babe?”

“Hm?”

“Ya wanna order food?” His eyes are still shut and you chuckle. “Yeah.”

“Who’s callin’?” He snuggles a bit further into you.

“Not it.” His eyes open and he looks up at you before literally pouting. You can’t believe this is the same man you were calling “daddy” just a few minutes ago.

“Why do I hafta do it,” he grumbles.

“Sorry that my phone’s out there and yours is literally at your feet because you wanted to be theatrical and ‘teach me a lesson.’” You smile as he continues to grumble under his breath, but pushes himself up to grab his phone and dial the number of your favorite takeout place. “Love youuuuuu,” you sing-song and flash a toothy grin at him.

“Yeah, yeah, whatever. I love ya too.” He rolls his eyes and lies back down next to you as he speaks to the worker on the phone. The entire time he absentmindedly plays with your hands as you sigh contentedly and bask in the feeling of being with him.

｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ

masterlist ｡･:*:･ﾟ rules

[bergandysam]

’*•.¸♡ 𝗖𝗘𝗢! 𝗗𝗿𝗲𝗮𝗺 ♡¸.•*‘

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

I wrote this over the course of a couple days. Very sleep deprived on some of the said days. sorry if it doesn't make sense!

Let me know if there should be anything else in the content warning. Or correct me if i'm wrong :))

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

Gender-Neutral reader! Word count: 3.1k CW: Mention of unsupportive parents, insinuation of a bad ex, embarrassment, anxiety, cussing (Once)

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

It's fine. You're fine. Stop worrying. You've got this.

You're attractive, smart, and confident, and.. And.. fuck.

I'm gonna butcher this. It was only basically a life changing moment. If I got this job I could finally prove to my family and my ex my roommate that the 4 years at college was worth it. The endless nights… studying. God, I don't miss it. According to my parents, a computer science degree was a

“waste of your time! You could be studying liberal arts! Getting an english degree!! Become a teacher! Not some useless.. Computer.. Person. What are you going to do? Spend your life in a dark basement in “I.T.” ridiculous. Get a grip”

They had never supported anything I did that wasn't advised by them. They don't even know the title! “Some.. computer person” Please. Why can't they understand that computers are the future? This IS the future. Coders are more important now than they ever have been before.

My roommate, Karl, has been nothing but supportive. As expected from someone whose whole life is dependent on computers. But, I still feel like I have some point to prove to him. Like if I don't, all of the sleepless nights he spent helping me when I had to cram, comforting me when I got a grade that was less than perfect, forcing me to eat, shower, drink water, and take a break and have a day to myself, was all for nothing. I definitely wouldn’t be here without him.

“Um.. excuse me?” Looking up from my lap where my fidgeting hands had finally come to a stop. The receptionist, or is he a personal assistant? It’s hard to tell. He could be anyone. Whoever he is, he is deathly attractive, but also staring at me impatiently. I couldn’t help but stare back. Taking note of every detail I could find. His downturned brown eyes burning holes into my own as he waited for a response, his seemingly perfect eyebrows knitted together, the freckle on his left cheek which was very faint but noticeable. Which i'm sure if exposed to the sun would darken. Which leads me to his skin. Pale, and white. Almost paper white. I wonder how much he is truly exposed to the sun or if he is just always stuck in this god forsaken office. His cheeks were slightly rosy though. Cute. His lips, although thin, were full, almost. As if he was pouting. They were a pale pink, matching the rosiness of his cheeks. His hair. Gosh his hair. It was so fluffy and dark, it was hard to tell whether it was black or a deep brown in the lighting provided. I just wanted to run my hands through it and feel how soft it truly was. One thing stood out though. One annoying detail that I couldn’t take my eyes off of.

A piece of hair sticking up in the middle of his head. It looked so out of place compared to the cute, fluffy curls of everything else. It was embarrassing how hard it was to hold myself back from walking over to him and fixing it myself.

He coughed.

How long was I staring at him?

Standing up, I brushed myself off. Getting rid of any stray hairs or balls of material that had stuck to me. I took a hesitant step forward towards the man in front of me. He swung his arm out and motioned me to go into the main office. The whole reason I was here.

“He is ready for you. Don’t keep him waiting any longer. He will take your tardiness out on us” He mumbled the last part of his sentence not meaning for me to hear. He turned swiftly on his feet before speed walking back to his desk situated next to the elevator. He was very lanky. The black t-shirt he wore was… Baggy? His pants were black jeans, pairing them with his all black converse. Was I overdressed? Or was he too casual. Panic immediately started to rise within me. But the moment he sat down back at his desk, he looked at me once more sending a glare my way, annoyed I still haven’t made the effort to make my way towards the office.

I nodded at him. Turning slowly to take in the giant double doors in front of me. A bit extreme for a small hallway I think personally. I walked towards them and held the door handle. Do I knock? That'd be polite right? No but he's expecting you, he's aware of your presence so there is no need to. But what if he had gotten a phone call between the time of alerting the man behind the desk and now. But what if he gets annoyed at you for knocking. What if he finds the sound of knock-

Before I could even finish or process my thoughts, the door in front of me flew open. I stumbled slightly as the handle was torn from my grasp. I looked up and. Oh. Holy shit. Attractive was an understatement. The lanky dude behind the desk was attractive. The man in front of me was. God like? No, that would probably feed into his ego. Hot. Hot doesn’t describe it well enough. He was… Alluring. Alluring was the best way I could put it. He was lanky like the assistant (? I still don't know) but he was tall, and slightly bulkier. Broad shoulders, covered by a black dress shirt, that fit him oh too well, and a dark forest green vest. A silver chain was hung around his neck tucked underneath the shirt. It was barely visible, the intent to hide it was obvious. His jaw was- don't get me started. His eyes were an emerald green, matching his vest perfectly. But that was as far as I got before he started talking.

“You’re here for the interview aren't you?” Voice was like butter, it was smooth but had a slight rasp to it as if he hadn’t used it all day. I stared at him for a minute too long before nodding my head and muttering out a quick yes, my eyes meeting my shoes.

He hummed before taking a step back, opening the door wider. Silently asking for me to walk in and take a seat. I took a few steps forward, far enough for him to shut the door and walk around me to sit behind the desk.

His office was beautiful to put it simply. Simple but welcoming. The left wall had bookshelves lining the whole of the wall. The bookshelves wrapped around the wall behind me, only stopping once it reached the door. The back wall, if you could even call it a wall, was a giant window. Looking out upon the city of Orlando. The right wall was lined with computers, which I'll admit was a bit confusing. You'd think in an establishment like this, they would be able to afford a server room instead of keeping it in the bosses office. This room was the biggest liability. As if reading my mind, the gorgeous man sat at the desk in front of me, answered my question.

“We do have a server room. Just to let you know” I turned to look at him, mouth open like a fish. I’d close it if I could. But my body has betrayed me and I can't seem to control any part of me at this moment. He chuckled. God, that was hot.

“I could see the confusion on your face when you were looking at them… Don’t worry they don't hold any sensitive information” He was no longer looking at me, instead highlighting some papers in front of him. I nodded and cleared my throat before walking towards the desk, pulling out one of the chairs and sitting down. He looked up at me through lidded eyes and chuckled again at my hesitancy to sit down. When will he stop doing that. Without a second thought, my mouth had opened and words came tumbling out.

“Genuine question. If you do have a server room, and the computers don't hold any sensitive information,” I pointed at the wall to my right. Which, now thinking about was stupid, what other computers could I possibly be talking about. “Why are they in your office. And how are they surviving the changes of temperature within your office? I wouldn’t say it's particularly cold here. Not how server rooms are meant to be anyways.” He paused, capping his highlighter and putting it down before looking back at me. His hands were clasped together in front of him as he leaned forward.

“I won’t lie. You’re the only person that has ever pointed that out. Besides George of course.” George? Who is George? He looked at the computers, before looking back at me with a smug smile sitting upon his face. “Decoys. To put it simply. I would say they’re for personal use but you seem too smart to fall for that.” His arms left the table before leaning back in his chair. He crossed his arms. And lord do I wish he didn't. I couldn't help but stare at his arms as they pulled against his shirt. “They are real computers, yes, just before you question me about the blinking lights..” He paused and took a deep breath in. Contemplating what his next words would be. “... Why do YOU think I may have decoys displayed in my office?” he questioned me, the smug smile returning to rest on his face. I raised my eyebrows in shock, I knew this was an interview but I wasn’t expecting a question like this.

I shifted in my seat, before clearing my throat again. I looked down at my hands and started fidgeting with my fingers.

“Um. I mean one would assume the reason why anyone would have a decoy of.. Well anything. Would be to trick someone else into thinking that it was something that had importance.. And/or meaning. “ I paused for a moment to gather my thoughts. I looked up. He no longer held a smug smile, nor did he have his arms crossed. But, his hands rested on his thighs and he held my gaze, silently urging me to continue talking. He was truly intrigued by what I had to say over such a simple question. I looked away back towards the computers. It was hard to keep eye contact when his eyes were so mesmerising. “In this case, the information stored within the computers in the server room are sensitive and are at risk of being exposed to people who don't need said information. So, decoys are displayed in your office, to trick anyone who comes through, to believe you were idiotic enough to keep your servers out in the open for anyone to access.” I was going to continue but thought against my better judgement. I looked back at the man at the desk. Instead of being serious, as he was mere moments beforehand. He looked… amused? My eyes widened as I realised what I had just said.

“Not- no uh- not that i was calling you idiotic sir! I was just uh… it was more an.. Um. example? Of what others may think? Not that i think people think you're idiotic!-” he had cut me off when he started to laugh.

Oh my god. I just called my possible future boss idiotic and he started laughing at me. I cowered in my seat, sinking lower. This was the most embarrassing thing to happen all day.

Tears were pricking the corner of his eyes as he continued to laugh. Once he opened them and saw how embarrassed I had become. He started to calm down. I straightened the way I was sitting, fidgeting with my hands once again.

He cleared his throat and sat up straighter himself. Hands crossed, he leaned against the desk once again.

“I would like to apologise for laughing at you. Truly. It had just… caught me off guard. I haven't laughed like that in weeks.” A soft smile sat upon his face staring at me with glossy eyes, still teary from his burst of laughter. “Other than your comment about idiocy. You were spot on. You’re right when you say that they’re there to trick people into thinking that they hold sensitive information. Although it seems obvious to people like you and George, many fall for it. I can't explain how many people we have caught tampering with the computers here at 2 am.” He ran a hand through his sandy hair as he huffed. Obviously annoyed with the thought of how many people had tried to take him down. He brought up George again. Who is George?

“I do have another quick question..” He looked away from the computers and back at me. Nodding his head slightly to indicate he was willing to listen to what I had to say.

“You… you keep bringing up someone named George. Who is George? if you don't mind my asking” I spoke quietly and nervously. If he did end up hiring me. I don’t know how I will be able to cope. Maybe I should have missed the interview today. I would be fine with disappointing everyone around me if it meant I wouldn’t have to deal with seeing his face every day.

He smiled upon hearing my question. Almost eager to talk about his best friend.

“George was the man that greeted you outside my door. He’s my best friend and employee.” He continued to smile as the confusion was slowly cleared off of my face. I nodded slowly before looking around the room again awkwardly. A couch sat opposite the bookshelf, a small round table sat next to the couch, a book left open, a corner of the page doggy eared, making me cringe inwardly. Turning back around to the man in front of me, did I only notice how cluttered his desk was. There was a lamp sitting on the corner of the left side of the desk. A monitor sitting opposite on the right side. Papers were scattered across his desk, a multitude of folders towering slightly on a tray sat next to his lamp. Pens and highlighters littered his desk, some without caps. The ones that were capped were very obviously on the wrong pen. The man followed my eyes, soon noticing himself how messy his own desk was.

“Oh my... i'm so sorry i didn’t realise how messy things had become” He quickly picked up all of the papers, stacking them neatly and pushing them to the side. Before scooping up all of the pens and highlighters, capping them correctly and disposing them into a cup that had sat next to his monitor. He looked at me sheepishly, sticking his arm out in front of me. I grabbed his hand and shaked, assuming that is what he was asking of me.

“Clay, my name is Clay. Apologies yet again. This Interview has been somewhat of a disaster.” I shook my head and smiled, retreating my arm and telling him my own name. Clay… that's a really nice name. Genuinely,

He smiled, an amused expression on his face yet again.

“I am aware of your name. It was on your resume and application” A goofy grin was on display. Blush seeped up the back of my neck, settling in the tips of my ears. I was thoroughly embarrassed.

“Oh right.. Sorry. I forgot you had access to that.” I rubbed the back of my neck taking a few deep steady breaths to calm myself down.

“Don’t worry about your desk, by the way. Trust me when I say I have seen worse.” He laughed slightly and shook his head, amused. He stopped abruptly, face turning into a hard expression. Suddenly becoming serious.

“Look uh. We have run out of time for the interview today.” His voice no longer sounded smooth, but was gravelly almost. “You took your time entering my office and kept me waiting.” Oh god. Here it is. He’s going to reject my application. Panic immediately settled in my stomach. It began churning, I felt like I was going to throw up at any second. Why was he suddenly stoic. Did I do something? Was I mucking around? I didn't mean to if I was. I thought I was pretty calm. He took a deep breath in. The anxiety was like a volcano. It felt like it was about to erupt. The shaking being the voices of worry filling my mind, the lava rising being the anxiety attack that was slowly settling in.

“But. Considering you did take notice of the computers, and questioned me about them instead of just ignoring them. And you did answer the one question I did ask you.”

Here it comes. Any moment now. He’ll break the news and tell me to get out.

“I will keep in touch with you” what? “I will let you know if you have gotten the job in around a week's time.” Oh. My. God. The volcano inside slowly started dying. The shaking coming to a stop, the lava settling back down into the pool of my stomach.

He pushed the chair back from his desk and stood up walking towards the door. I followed suit, not wanting to keep him waiting any longer than I already had. When I had reached him he stuck his hand out waiting for me to shake it once again. I gripped his hand firmly and shook. Feeling more confident now than I had all day.

“Thank you for taking time out of your day to interview me sir. Even if it wasn’t the interview either of us were hoping for.” He nodded, smiling slightly at my words, the smile didn't last long before it returned to the position it was previously in. He reached to open the door, stepping back in the process to make room for me to leave.

“Of course. Until next time. We’ll keep in touch.” He responded bluntly, looking at me once more before shutting the door the moment I left the office. What the fuck kind of interview was that? I looked around the room, my eyes settling on the man I now know as George. He rolled his eyes before nodding his head at me. I nodded back, swallowing the bump that had found its way into my throat. Making my way to the elevator I thought about everything that had happened today. Only one detail sticking out more than the others.

How attractive Clay was.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

I'm not the best at writing and contemplated uploading this, so I hope you enjoyed whatever it was lol. - Birdy