#I was so upset at how little of a part he played I missed him

[whalesforhands]

what’s yours is mine (4/?)

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pairing: geto suguru x reader x gojo satoru

You don’t know a lot of things, and you readily admit that. What you do know, is that the friends you’ve made aren’t something you will ever regret. Until your physical body weakens and becomes nothing, you’re more than happy to give your all until you wither away.

What’s yours can be theirs, too. They’re your friends, after-all. (Omegaverse AU)

“What elementary?” That stare again. The one he unintentionally uses whenever he wants something, demands something. It’s heavy and uncomfortable, makes you want to beg him to not be upset at you, makes you want to apologise for your wrongdoings.

If you even had any, that is.

“Geh!” A hand slaps over those intimidating blue, palm all too eager to hide away those glimmering orbs as the sound snaps you out of your faraway thoughts.

That must hurt.

“Anyone ever taught ya how to not be demanding?” Suguru’s upset, his cheeks puffed up in anger and frowning at the friend that was sitting cross-legged upon the tatami mats and complaining about how much it hurt.

“It’s just a question!” And that was enough to turn the once intimidating gaze into one of narrowed sulk, drooping shoulders and falling backwards, making a point to let his body flop to the ground. “Hmph!”

Pouting. Gojo Satoru is pouting once more as your fluffy socks pad over to crouch near his head, fluffing up his fluffier white hair and patting at his soft cheeks to test the waters.

He lets you.

“I think Satoru’s mad.” It’s not so much so as a thought, but a way to signal to Suguru that there was going to be an onslaught of whining if something wasn’t done soon.

“Hmph!”

“Y’er not very cute now, Satoru.” Geto Suguru, at the age of 5, had learned just how much the rich kid has been spoiled; by both you and the people around him.

“Satoru is cute.” It’s what you say to him as you pushed your new black-haired friend on the swing-set, with the creak of metal and the kick-up of snow by his boots. “And he’s really honest.”

“So I like hanging around him.”

“Am I cute?” It’s a question that has got him parroting his own version back at you, a wonder that prompts him to prod at your mind.

“No,” He can feel your palms lightly pressing against his shoulders, fingers grazing against the soft fabric of his sweater as your voice is muffled by the scarf he had given to you on this cold day when you sneezed one too many times. “You’re pretty, Suguru.”

And that has the little boy thinking about what to say next. He’s never heard any of the kids at his old neighbourhood say that before, yet he knows you’re not the type to lie. Is there a purpose to your words? A lying undertone that he couldn’t see through?

He doesn’t know how to reply, so he settles on a truth that at the very least, is true to him.

“You’re prettier.”

“Hmph!” Yet again, Suguru has been snubbed despite his attempt to liven up his pouting friend. Insulting his adorableness won't work either, it seems.

You poke at his cheek as he continues to glower and gloom, his petulant expression never faltering even as you squish the chub of his face.

He’s very soft.

“Suguru said he was sorry.” He didn’t exactly say it outright, but you offer it as a way to dissuade Satoru from his irritation anyway, still nudging at his cheek as snowy eyelashes flutter open momentarily, before snapping close upon meeting your sad frown.

“Hmph!”

A losing battle.

“I’m… Sorry too?” It’s all you can hope that it works. If an apology from you is even something he wants, anyway.

“Whaddya even apologizing for, dummy?” It’s a mumbled grunt, barely missed if it wasn’t for your odd patience when it came to listening to him.

Why? Because he’s mad and he’s in your house. So technically you played a part in this, in managing to make your cherished friend lay on the lightly tattered tatami mats of your bedroom floor and pouting like nobody’s business. That’s why.

“Let’s feed him.” Suguru offers, squatting down on the boy’s other side and mimicking your action of prodding at his cheek, all whilst staring down at the boy who had lost his will to play. “He’s weak to stuffing his face.”

That’s too good of an idea to pass up on.

“I want biscuits and the cake Kimi-chan brought!”

Now you’ve realized the ulterior motive behind your ‘cute’ Satoru’s tantrum. How sneaky of him.

So when your head peers into the fridge, tiptoeing upon your little stool to really survey the field of cool air and white chill, you have to face the biggest conundrum you have met in your so far, 5 years of living.

“We’re out of snacks.”

“What?!” A startled pop-up of spiky white smacks into flowing black as his eyes narrow and his lips curl into a pout. “Already?!”

“Mhm.” You take one last look just in case. “I think we ate everything Mama made—“ Your eyes fall onto the plastic cake knife that still sat on one of the fridge shelves, abandoned in favour of spoons. “And finished all the cake.”

Evidenced by the crumbs on your floor and the 3 spoons stained with leftover frosting lying on the ground.

“No wayyyy! We have to watch Digimon with no snacks…!” A true conundrum as he holds his head and falls to the ground without the grace he was taught to embrace.

“I like Pokemon better.”

“Me too.”

He chooses to pretend not to hear it. Nobody would ever be able to convince him to pick that over his beloved Digimon.

“And we ate everything at Suguru’s house yesterday…!” A sound of defeat as he curls his knees up towards his chest, bottom lip stuck out and eyes staring at the ground in disappointment.

Truly the biggest challenge you 3 have had to face together. The second being what to watch on television.

(Personally, the astrology channel that plays every morning at 9 is a particular favourite of yours.)

“It’s fine, isn’t it?” Suguru’s licking his fingers clean of the remnant cream, his brows furrowing at the now lukewarm sweetness. “We can just go to your house for more.”

Satoru’s… House? Come to think of it, even you have never been there. Mama doesn’t allow that. She says that you’re too young, that you can when you’re a bit older, when you know Satoru a little bit better.

(But you know him plenty now, right? Even made a new friend along the way since you last time you asked her.)

“My house?” A proud click of his tongue and a smirk on his face as his head finally perks up for the first time from his whining. “Then ya gotta pay a toll of 50 strawberry cakes.”

“My mama would call you a scammer.” Suguru’s deadpan reply.

50… If Mama can make only 2 cakes a day… And if you helped her, would you even be able to meet Satoru’s demand? Is it even humanly possible? You think you heard the pretty lady on television talk about this expert baker who— You can feel someone waving their hand in front of your face to try to steer your mind back into the real world.

“But Satoru, aren’t you on a sweets ban?” It’s a sudden realization as you phase back into reality, nodding at Suguru now that he managed to successfully get you back. There’s a vague memory of him grumbling about it the very first time you met, the sway of blue firefly sleeves and the glow of his enchanting eyes.

“You’ve been letting him eat sweets when he’s not allowed to?” Suguru looks largely disapproving, a cocked brow and tilted head, as he watches the way your eyes are still glazed over and faraway from this conversation.

“I-It’s only temporary!” It’s a spluttered way of defending himself as his fists lightly punch at Suguru’s shoulder. “The old hag said I could have more af-after I—“

“But if you have guests over, wouldn’t they allow snacks?” It’s another offhand thought you had, not truly tuning into the chatter of your friends as a thoughtful finger is place on your lip, and you’re settling yourself down on the floor with them.

Silence.

You have to blink at them. Did you say something wrong? Mama always stocked snacks in case of a guest, and partially for yourself; so it just came naturally to you. Was it not a good idea after-all…?

——

So the first time you’re at Satoru’s house, you spend a good amount of time wondering why he needed such a big, scary looking metal gate as the unfamiliar man who drove the both of you here talks to the tiny speakerphone.

(It actually wasn’t that hard for Geto-mama to help convince your Mama to let you come. Cause it’s safer when Suguru is around too, right? You think that’s why you were allowed.)

“How many toilets do you think he has?” A genuine question as you gape at the sheer length of the seemingly never-ending fences. With a minka house that size, there’s bound to be more needed… But what do you need so many bathrooms for, anyway?

“Pfft,” A snort beside you and a squeeze of your hand. “Bet he uses one for showering, one for taking a dump and one for wiping.”

Suguru might be right, actually. What else would having that many bathrooms do?

“(name)-sama, Suguru-sama,” The intercom flashes with the image of an unfamiliar man as the metal gates start to open, automatic and creaking and honestly quite daunting as they part to reveal a well-dressed man in shiny shoes. “The Gojo estate welcomes you.”

He’s tall. Very tall. Almost as if he spanned at least a hundred feet up as he takes a bow, his head kept down and his face neutral.

“Young Master Gojo has been expecting the both of you.”

Takahashi-san; that was his name. The dignified Takahashi-san who didn’t smile, who didn’t allow his facial features to twitch even an inch out of place. Stone-faced Takahashi-san who was tall and moved with such quiet, purposeful steps, yet adjusted the stretch of his legs to allow you both to keep up with him as he lead you both around the engawa.

He reminds you of a really tall, really kind rock. If rocks could be kind, anyway.

“He looks fancy.” It’s your quiet whisper to no one in particular as you squeeze Suguru’s palm. It’s a wonder, honestly. Takahashi-san looks really out of place with the black and white suit, compared the varying browns and whites of the infrastructure and the greens of the estate’s seemingly endless garden.

And you think that it’s kind of intimidating.

“Do you think Satoru would wear that too?” Suguru humours you, a chuckle and swinging your intertwined hands together as he ensures his fingers are looped through yours.

You giggle, at ease now that you realize you’re not alone. Mama was right. “Maybe he has one of those gigantic closets like in—“

“We have arrived at the Young Master’s room.” A gloved hand fancily motions towards the fancier wooden lattice doors— Satoru had a really nice house. “Please do not hesitate to call for me if anything is needed.”

Even the wooden floorboards of the veranda don’t creak at all when you walk on them, the traditional tatami of Satoru’s room replaced with a soft Digimon carpet— It honestly blows your mind at just how clean his home was, completely juxtaposing how sloppy your usual Satoru could be.

“Surprise attack!” And you see a flash of blue and white before you’re both tackled to the ground, just barely missing landing front-first on those shiny wooden floorboards you admire so much as you resign to fate on the extreme softness of the carpet you did end up on.

Amazing.

“You’re finally here!” He’s settling his weight on the both of you, holding you both down so that he can reign supreme from above, a catlike mischief on his face when he realises his plan was a success.

“Let’s play! Let’s play!” Because he claims that treats taste better when you’re tired. “Oh, my house is wayyyyy bigger, so let’s do hide and seek!”

“That’s—“ You have to swallow a grunt of pain from the feel of his knee digging into your side as you whimper. “Great…”

“Get off, you heavy snowman!”

——

You don’t know this lady either. Which, honestly, figures. You don’t exactly live here.

“You’re not meant to be here—“ Her words start off snappy, quick. As if it were reprimanding tone that commanded dominance; before devolving into a tone of confusion and softer frustration. “Child…?”

She clears her throat, the ornaments in her hair twinkling a jingle that makes you want to stare agape.

“State your purpose.”

If it wasn’t for the almost scary tone she donned.

“Satoru’s trying to hunt me down.” You say it like it was the most obvious thing ever in response, almost as if you were reporting back from a mission. “So I’m tryna find a good hiding spot.”

You can’t see her face clearly, or see her at all with how the shoji doors hid her from your view. But her room was brightly lit, casting her standing silhouette onto the fabric screens of the sliding doors—

It should be impossible for a shadow to look so elegant.

“You must be his…” She lets herself trail off, as if the word was never on the tip of her tongue, far too unfamiliar and foreign on her lips. “Friend.”

She clears her throat once more as the shadow produces a fan from her draping kimono sleeve.

“Tell me, child,” You can see the sway of her clothes, her silhouette moving with poised grace and practiced elegance that made you await with bated breath for her every move.

It’s mesmerizing to just watch her.

You remember to breathe when you hear her falter, picking up on the shaky inhale in and the slight stutter of the paper fan that failed to match her once rhythmic pace. “How is… Satoru doing?”

You blink once, twice. Can see the dance of her sleeves as the fan waves and the jingle of the beads upon the ornate kanzashi tune into your ears. That’s a confusing question for you. A weird one, even.

She lives here, doesn’t she? Why doesn’t she just ask him herself? Plus, you’re not Satoru.

“I think you have to ask him that yourself.”

The fanning stops abruptly, and your head perks up at what you think is a muffled choke, watching as you see her silhouette start to tremble, before a quiet laugh bursts out. It’s elegant, refined— Yet so uncontrolled and lacking in all the proper was she once held.

Yet it didn’t detriment her overwhelming aura at all.

“Hahaha! I should, shouldn’t I?” The fan snaps close, angry, frustrated— Yet soft and repentant. “You’re a smart one, child.” Her voice is tender, almost pitiful in their tone.

“He will be fine with someone like you around.”

(What does that even mean?)

“Thanks.” You think the conversation is over, think you should leave when you notice she’s gone quiet, can see the silhouette of her shoulders slumping with a palm pressed to her forehead.

You can’t seem to smell anything.

She must be going through something, so you best leave her to it. Mama always told you to never involve yourself too much with strangers.

“Take care of yourself.” It’s all you can offer to the now solemn stranger.

A desolate chuckle, and the fluttering open of the paper fan once more as she seemingly regains her bearings.

“You too, child.”

Yet, she itches at your brain even long after you’ve been unceremoniously caught and dragged by the hand back to Satoru’s room the moment you’ve been found. You can’t ask that directly— Who even asks about a random lady they came across in someone’s house? So your brain goes for the next best thing.

“What’s your family like, Satoru?”

A genuine curiosity— It’s fine if it’s strange. You don’t have the most normal one either… Do you? You don’t really know.

You think your Mama loved your father, at least for one day. At the very least. She doesn’t love him like she loves you.

(That’s what she tells you, anyway.)

So you find yourself parroting that question again when they look at you as if you had something loose in your brain.

“What?” Satoru looks… Appalled. All furrowed brows and jutted out lip, scrunched up nose and tilted head. “What does mochi gotta do with any of that?”

You only blink back at him as Suguru plops a mochi into your open palm. “I just… Felt like it.”

A scrutinizing gaze from him as Suguru watches you both.

“All I know is that my Papa married just ‘cause my Mama was a hair or somethin’.” You see him stuff another mouthful of mochi into his mouth. “And cwause she’s—“ A swallow as he pats off the sugary dust on his lips. “An Alpha.”

Not for love. Definitely not.

(And why would anybody want to marry a hair?)

“Mmm…” Your brain feels like it was starting to steam from overwork. None of this makes any sense at all. “I don’t get it.”

Your honest proclamation.

“I say you don’t think too hard about this kinda thing.” Suguru’s patting your arm as he licks cream off of the corner of his lip. “Satoru doesn’t make any sense half the time, anyway.”

“Hey! Yes I do!” A harrumph and crossed arms as he sticks his nose into the air in contempt. “I know that my family only meets with other Alphas so that everyone stays Alpha, ya know?” He swipes sugar off of his cheek as Suguru grimaces, still speaking with his mouth full as he tries to make his point. “So I’m gonna be an Alpha too!”

No idea what that means. Though, Satoru had always been the type to tell you about things you never really understood quite yet. So you can only offer a pat on his back when he starts to choke on the sticky snack, hurriedly downing his milk as you choose not to dwell on it.

It’s not important to you now, anyway.

“Okay,” You smile as your eyes flicker from the mochi still in your hand up to the remaining 5 left on the serving plate. “Can Suguru and I finish the whole plate?”

“Wha— No! I want more too!”

——

And you go through those cycle of seasons once more, and in a blink of an eye— Elementary had begun.

“I can’t believe they don’t let you grow your hair out, Suguru…” Your voice is teetering on a soft cry, your arms hugging around his neck and resting on the backpack behind him as you press against the crook of his neck.

It’s a bit of an awkward hug, with how broad and stiff the bags were— They got in the way.

“Well… My mama said that’s just how public schools are.” He’s patting at your back, trying to soothe you now since there weren’t any other kids around—

The perks that come with coming early so that Mama could get to work on time.

It was hard, feigning confidence and bravery in front of your her when the sun had barely started to rise. Smiling at her even past those school gates you were too nervous to pass, waving her goodbye as you try not to show that you wanted to cry— You didn’t think you would make it through if you didn’t run into your beloved friend halfway through.

His hair is… Shorter now. Ear-length at best and not at all as flowy and silky and pretty as it once was when it was longer.

It felt freeing; the relief of knowing that he was assigned to be in the same class as you were, to know that you won’t be separated even when you’re in school with at least one of your dear friends.

Your only friends, so far. So you cling on, harder and needier— Enough for you to fulfill Satoru’s daily touch quota even if he wasn’t here with the both of you… And to sate your own selfish need for Suguru.

It’s strange, really. Since when did you crave touching them so much? Even through warm summers when the heat got unbearable, you remember laying with them on the floor to mope and complain about the humidity, hands intertwined together despite the sweat and uncomfortable, sticky feeling.

Even through colder falls where you 3 end up huddled together under Suguru’s blanket to read the newest issue of a manga, a small fight ensuing between all of you to decide who gets to hold the pages open— Due to the different reading capabilities; until the responsibility falls on you when the boys inevitably almost tear the pages apart.

(Manga is a treasure you need to be gentle with!)

So you’re used to their touch. Used to feeling their warmth so much that you don’t even want to pull away even when you hear the telltale sliding open of the classroom door, a running start-up that you both missed as the hug continues—

Before 2 becomes 3 upon the polished, and definitely less fancier wooden floors of your classroom.

“Guess who!”

And there was chatter. A lot of it. Whispers under stiff breaths, blushes on red cheeks and eyes that kept sticking to him as he simply… Sat next to you, his finger poking at the bandaid upon your cheek from his tackle as you paste another one onto Suguru’s arm.

“That’s him, right?”

“Look at his eyes, that’s gotta be that kid…”

“My daddy said that his family’s got bad people connections.”

“No way…!”

“Did you hear? My momma told me that—“

Yet, he ignores everything, everyone else around him as his eyes lock themselves with yours, his arm wound around yours as he tugs you closer.

“Aren’t ya happy to see me?” A V-sign and a bright grin as he nudges your shoulder, so you make a decision as you meet knowing purple that signaled the same thought.

If he doesn’t acknowledge it, you wouldn’t either. An unsaid promise that will hold strong.

“Yea.”

("How did you even manage to find out? We didn't even tell ya." Suguru leans onto the desk, looking past the you who was sat between them and at the all too proud boy.

"I got Kimi-chan to investigate!"

"Stalker."

"Mn."

"Hey!")

So when lunch rolls about and Satoru is staring down at the last thing on his tray; a bowl of seaweed and tofu-laden miso soup and poking at the floating cubes of white… He starts complaining.

“Cheap stuff doesn’t taste so bad.” Though, you think the ¥250 your Mama pays per day for this to be a lot. That’s at least 5 stickers from the candy shop.

“Well sorry it’s cheap, mister rich kid?” Suguru’s not gonna budge, tone sarcastic and his eyes closing as he finishes off the rest of his rice as he lets the rich boy steal another gulp of his strawberry milk.

Not even bothering to touch his tofu.

But you understand, noticing that he didn’t like bland food. Things that were neither sweet, salty nor sour. Tastes that didn’t amount or replicate anything— He didn’t like things that tasted like nothing.

So when he’s wiping his mouth of a milk moustache, he’s back to scooping tofu up and dumping it back in his bowl. Again and again, staring at it before… His gaze turns towards you. A glance at his spoon, and back— A repeat of his actions once more and—

A knowing grin.

“Say aaaah!”

“Aaaaaaahm.”

“Don’t make her eat your food for you, Satoru.” A scolding sigh when Suguru’s chopsticks pick up the cucumber that you absolutely did not want to touch.

“Hypocrite! Y’er eating the cucumbers for her!”

——

School is fun, even if it’s only the 3 of you. Even if you don’t have other friends to talk to.

“My dad’s an Alpha!” Tachibana… Something was his name. You don’t exactly remember it. A loud boy. You think you’ve heard the teacher muttering something about rambutans before.

“Ehhh? That’s so cool!”

“My mama told me that my cousin’s elder sister is an Alpha!”

“You guys have Alphas? Lucky…”

Yet they only approach, hover around your table like flies the moment only Satoru is gone, scrutinizing both you and Suguru as you try to read together.

“Hey, (last name)!” A slam of a grimy hand onto your table. “What’re your parents?”

You blink up at him, his face all smug and abhorrent— Prideful and spurning your discomfort.

“I don’t know.” Your voice is small, quiet. Like you didn’t want to be here, didn’t want to respond. Yet it tries to be firm. You can’t be strong all the time, but Mama told you that acting like you are will always work in your favour. He’s not intimidating per se— Simply uncomfortable to talk to. You’re sure nobody would like it when people get into their faces like this.

And it’s all too soon that Suguru drops his elbow onto said boy’s hand, smile ever so polite and put together despite the twitch of his knitted brows—

His sign of anger.

The victim didn’t even have enough time to scream, face turning white as a sheet when he starts to hear literal cracks, eyes forced wide open and fear evident when—

No words are needed. Not when Gojo Satoru is the one that slides open the door, huddling various flavours of sweet bread in his hands as his face stays blank.

It makes anyone back off immediately, kids gasping as they run back to their seats and avoid him like the plague as chairs screech against the floor in their hurry to act as if they weren’t near his territory.

You won’t question it.

So when you’re walking back, it hits you that it’s something that you never thought about before, never cared enough about. It’s for the sake of knowledge, for the purpose of knowing.

(“Is she even paying attention ‘nymore?” Small hands clap in front of your face as Suguru practically has to drag you back before you inevitably try to cross the street at a green light.

“Not at all.”)

“Mama.” You’re staring at her as she reads through a newspaper, another crinkle of thin paper, and clicking of a pen with a flicker of her eyes towards yours as she hums in acknowledgment.

“Which one are you?” Your finger gently lands upon the dark print, pointing towards the headline once you recognize the word.

‘Betas in demand! Employers looking to seek stable—‘

She pauses. “Where… Did you hear about this?” A valid question. You’ve never really cared about it till now despite all the news channels she’s watched with you’ve and all the newspapers you’ve helped her pick up from the front door… It didn’t make any sense for you to suddenly inquire about this.

“Tachibana-san was telling everyone how his Papa was an alpha.” You look back down towards the word. “And everyone in class started talking about that kind of thing too.”

Not a lie. At least, not a complete one.

“…I see.” She drawls off into silence, letting it hang over your heads with only your loud wonderment to fill the room.

You watch as she clears her throat, fiddling with the collar of her shirt and a hand briefly rubbing at the side of her neck.

You know what that means. Mama is nervous.

“Mama is…” You hear her pen click close. “An omega.” Her fingers start to trace the scarred over bite, her eyes meeting yours momentarily before going back to the newspaper.

Oh. Cool. But…

“Is that good?” A tilt of your head and a blink up at your pretty Mama as she blinks back at you. You feel her hand on your head, a brief rustle of your hair just as her pen clicks open.

“Alphas are usually at the top of the ladder.” A circle is drawn around the first symbol as she takes a breath in. “They are… Strong-minded people. You’ll see many people talk about them.”

“Like Tachibana-san?”

“Mhm.”

You blink up at her in silence as your hands settle down on your lap. That’s great and all, but you still don’t really get it.

Mama looks to the side, fingers drumming against the table before a solution prods her mind. “Suguru’s mama is an Alpha.”

Ohhhhh. She’s nice. Alphas are nice. You kind of get it.

“Betas are in the middle.” She taps against the the second symbol to continue, the head of her pen clicking open and close with an unsteady rhythm. “You’ll see a lot of them around.” You can see the way her hands are starting to tremble a little more, before she folds her hands over each other, a strained smile on her face.

“Kimiko-san is a Beta.” You didn’t know that either. She’s nice too. Betas are nice people too.

“And Omegas…” The one that your Mama said she was, right? You’ve been waiting for her to talk about herself, memorized that last symbol to a T. Kind of excited about this, maybe a little too much as you feel your toes clench and your eyes glimmer… Though you don’t really get why she chose to do her own last.

(Because your Mama should always be number 1!)

Yet it all comes to a halt the moment you smell something sour, helplessly watching in unsteady silence as she starts to rub at the skin upon her neck a little more roughly, pinching and pulling and digging her nails into her own flesh as she keeps her gaze stuck onto the newspaper below her.

You can sense how the air feels tenser, thicker. It felt like a stubborn lump in your throat, felt like it was going to crawl up your spine and envelop you whole as you watched her chew on her bottom lip.

“Mama…?”

A deep breath in, a fervent scratching against the marred side of her neck. You can see her trembling, see your Mama’s hand practically turn white with how hard she was gripping the pen. Is she—

“People say that they’re better off not existing.”

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[obeymematches]

I saw one of your stories and I got immediately interested by one of them, then I had an idea more like a head Canon maybe-

So you and Solomon are making a potion for class one of the brothers came into the classroom and a big explosion happened one of you and the brothers didn't brace for impact and then suddenly your future child is there I just want to see everybody's reaction or maybe what will they do in that situation (sorry it's a bit weird but yeah that's all I came up with in my head) ^^"

henlo!!! So you sent in this ask almost 3 years ago (may 20th 2021) I'm so so so sorry i didn't reply sooner, you're probably over this by now 😅 but i felt inspired to write it today so here we go 🫶

🌸Meeting your future kid with him🌸

GN MC

Okay so this time Solomon has some homework to do... sending this kiddo back without messing with the future is gonna take time. Until then you must take care of them! You are the parent afterall!!

Lucifer: 4 months old

Not gonna lie it took him the longest to realize it's YOUR baby WITH him! In his defense, babies can look a bit weird. The baby definitely has your mouth, but his eyes and hairline. He didn't see many infant in his life so this is all new! You can literally see his heart melt when the little baby smiles at him! Shares his part with pride, changes diapers, carries the baby around....just take over when the baby is fussy.

MC I can't wait to meet the baby again... I miss them already, isn't that funny?

Mammon: 3yrs old

Your toddler immediately recognized you and Mammon. You and him looked at each other with an awkward stare, his face is as red as it can be- you are definitely not ready for kids!!! The fact that around 3 years old kids looove disobeying on purpose doesn't help. Mammon gets the hang of it though, he looves his little troublemaker! They could play all day long.

I wanna see ya grow up little man- I looove being your dad!

Levi: 8yrs old

Again, the kis recognizes you and him. Right now he keeps telling you he isn't ready for kids and might never be; same as you!! So how did this happen??? Do you must have one in the future??? Thankfully with an 8yrs old you can already have a conversation, play games with, etc so by the time it's over he grows very fond of them.

MC... I think I have changed my mind- having a kid is a lot like having a small best friend!

Satan: 16yrs

Ah. Your child is as upset as any 16 yr old would be in this case, leaving you and Satan no time to think about the fact you made this person. He does his absolute best to stay calm and see things from the kid's POV, but man is it difficult when your teen keeps lying about important stuff, escapes the house as soon as you lower your guard, fights with anyone over and over who doesn't do as they want despite being so so so sensitive... it is tiring.

I wish I could see what they were like as a little kid... why did I think teens were easy?!

Asmo: 13 yrs

Okay he is very quick at recognizing his own kid; he has YOUR and HIS face memorized. Starts sobbing when he realizes what this means; you are going to be parents!! The thought of loving someone sooo much just sends him over the edge. He buys everyone matching clothes, plans so many vacations you are rarely at home, surprisingly good at answering questions your little one has. (Very comforting, builds their confidence as much as he can!!)

MC, how do I look as a parent? You still love me?

Beel: 1 yr old

Okay, it was obvious the baby is a perfect mix of you two; his eyes are definitely yours though! Beel finds this job to be super important so he spends almost all day with the baby. They play peek-a-boo, he helps your kid to learn to walk and eat with hands, carries them on his shoulder when they get tired. Honestly he doesn't want to let them go back.

MC... I think we should have at least 3 kids!"

Belphie: 6yrs

Okay, he never would've thought he'd have a kid with you; first, you are dating someone else right now and second, he doesn't really like kids. So this one's gonna be complicated. His face turns red though as he has always liked you but you made it clear he is not really your type. Co-parenting brought you much closer; you could see how calm he can stay when he wants to, and how smart he actually is especially when the 6 years old doesn't stop with their questions. How it continues after the kid is back in the future is up to you babe!

[yo9urt]

ball dur's gait 3 is ruining my life

[sgtgarricks]

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ your gentle hands are enough

simon riley x afab!reader cw: nsfw, angst kinda?, unprotected vaginal sex, oral sex, praise kink, creampie!!, reader referred as 'pet' like twice, smut with sadness, hurt/kinda comfort, mention of johnny's death, simon is scared of commitment :(, we still love him.

reblogs are immensely appreciated! <3

NEXT PART (HEA): i want your hands on me for all my life

notes: my first ever fic that i'm posting on this site !! feedback is appreciated ♡ dedicated to @rowarn for being lovely and entertaining my rambles!

You and Simon weren't exactly dating.

He visits you almost every night whenever he's in the city and he's always gone before you're out of bed. But you relish on the rare occasions that you're awake before him — the moments you get to brush your hand through the raised scars littered all across his face, the moments you get to tangle your fingers in his hair to hear his little grunts.

Simon Riley has rough hands, scarred and calloused from years in the battlefield. Yet when those hands are caressing your body softly, you know he's being unnecessarily gentle to not let you feel the roughness in his hands — as if he was trying to prevent all the hurt and pain he's inflicted with his fists from bleeding into you.

You pretend to have only just woken up, eyes blinking slowly trying to adjust to the sunlight filtering in through the blinds.

"Morning, Si."

"G'morning, sweetheart. Sleep well?" He places a warm palm on your hip, not fulling resting the weight of it.

"I always do when you're here." You raised your hand to his chest and feel his heart thumping steadily below you. His body always runs hot no matter the weather and it makes you nuzzle into him more during the bleak winter.

Silence engulfs the two of you, lulling you into a vulnerable state of bliss as you recall the events of last night.

You had barely opened the door for him last night before his hands were all over you, lips crashing onto yours as he kissed you with desperation. Strong hands working swiftly to remove your clothes gently as he pushed you towards the bedroom.

Simon was always gentle with you, but you've been with him long enough to know the difference between him missing you and him scared at the thought of missing you.

Instead of gently laying you down on the plush mattress, he pushed you with a little bit of force than usual.

"Simon!" You yelp. You must've been too distracted by him to fully notice that he was now fully naked below you.

He had a glint in his eye that let you know you were not going to be able to rest until he coaxed multiple orgasms from you.

His hand was constantly on your body, not wanting to go for a second without feeling your skin under his. Greedy kisses were peppered all across your collarbone that were now marked with the imprint of his teeth.

You knew Simon was trying to memorize every inch of your body, leave his marks on you because he was going to go back on deployment soon.

This realization is what snaps you out of your peaceful reverie. That your Simon is going to leave you soon.

The mere thought of having to see him leave your apartment in a few hours and not getting to see him for another week? Months?

It leaves a sour taste in your mouth that made you frown and turn your head away.

Simon, ever so vigilant, notices your downturned lips. He cups your chin and swivels it to face him. He nudges his nose with yours, placing a gentle kiss on your lips.

"What's wrong, sweetheart?"

You hate that he was playing dumb. Hates that he thinks you don't know his antics by now. Hates that he thinks you don't know him by now.

"You know why, Si." Pushing your hands on the plush bed, you rest your back on the headboard. You stare at Simon disapprovingly, upset that he's trying to pretend everything is fine.

He sighs heavily and run his hand through his hair, messing it up more than it already was.

"How do you know?" He finally lets out, still laying down on his side staring up at you.

You scoff at him. Maybe because you've seen him through his highs-and-lows. You've seen his little smirk at your antics. Listened to his stories intently as he fondly recalls memories with his squad mates.

But you've also seen him coming to you bloody, battered, bruised, and shaking as you stitched his back. You've seen him scare himself awake at night, dreaming about the last time he saw Johnny.

He chuckles when you stare at him pointedly and finally sits up. He waits for you to stop sulking for a few minutes, before sighing once more.

The bed creaks with his weight as he tries to stand up from it, turning towards the window. You know what's coming next and you are fully aware there's nothing you can do to stop him from going on deployment.

What you can do, is at least try to make him stay a little bit longer.

You crawl forward from your position, throwing both your arms around his wide torso — at least try to, he's way too wide for you to fully engulf him in your arms.

"Don't go."

Your lips are pressed against his back as you softly plead with him to not go. Simon takes both your arms in his hands and angles his upper body towards you. Slowly, you move up from your sprawled-out position and kneel in front of him.

"Please." You slowly pull away your arms from his grip. He reluctantly lets you go before you slowly wrap them behind his neck. You inch closer to him, slowly leaning down and kissing his neck.

Simon moans languidly, still groggy.

"You play dirty, love." He cups your behind, angling his neck upwards to give you more access.

"You love it."

"Being cheeky, are you?" You grin against his neck, biting down softly. Arching your neck subtly as Simon tugged on your hair.

These were truly the moments you truly enjoy the most. Not that you don't enjoy sleeping with him, you definitely do. But being able to love him freely in the daylight made it much more intimate.

You suspect it's why Simon always tried his best to leave before the sun came up.

You know Simon loves you, albeit in his own unique way. He's never been nothing but kind and gentle to you, always making sure you feel safe and taken care of with him. From locking your door with the spare key he has after he leaves, to making sure to take care of you after having sex — always gets up to clean any messes he had left on your body with gentle wipes and ending it with a soft kiss to your forehead.

Despite your numerous attempts to get him to open up about his past, he doesn't bite often. Though, you know some part of him wants nothing more than to tell you every single thing about himself when he speaks little snippets of his past.

He doesn't tell you anything overly upsetting, always keeping it minimal and with as little details of violence as possible.

Perhaps, his idea of a small mercy.

Maybe he thinks he's doing you a favor, giving you little bits of himself hoping you eventually realize how damaged he is. He doesn't understand how those flickers of vulnerability makes you hungrier for more of him. You wanted him, thorns and all.

Simon lets himself get roped back into your arms, all his muscles relaxed, no trace any tautness or rigidness lingering. He feels safe in your arms.

"How long Simon?" You finally ask, preparing for the worst.

Simon was mostly gone for around a month.

But on the rare times you couldn't see him for more than half a year, it was like hell. It hurt so deeply knowing even if he had been killed off somewhere, you might not even know. The only traces left of him would only be the few shirts he's let you take and the Simon-shaped hole he would have left in your heart.

It scared you that you could never be able to smell his earthy musk lingering in your sheets again, that it would fade one day and you wouldn't remember what it smelled like anymore.

"I dunno. More or less three months?"

You hated when he was vague. He was often trying to spare your feelings.

"So... more."

He nods with his face still hiding in your neck. You can feel him press his nose harder and inhale deeply.

Deep down, you feel crushed. You always do when he has to leave. You want to tell him how much you love him again, how much you need him, and you wanted him to say it back so badly.

You thought you had gotten so far with him, slowly breaking down his walls after getting him to start staying over instead of leaving. Something changed after he lost Johnny — he was more touchy, more clingy, but he never let you get any closer anymore. You could physically feel him wince if you told him you loved him during one of your vulnerable moments.

The first time you told him you loved him, he looked at you with a somber look. He didn't say anything, but he pulled you close and gave you a bone-crushing hug.

I'm sorry.

He gave different reactions every time. Some days he'd simply sigh and drag his fingers through your hair lovingly. On worse days, he'd shake his head and do nothing else.

It was like an impenetrable wall had suddenly appeared when it wasn't there before.

You take a deep breath. Simon has been nothing but gentle with fragile you. He's been trying his best to not taint the heart that you've freely ripped out of your chest for him.

Maybe this time, you can do something for him and let him go back without the weight of your love on his shoulder.

"Better make the most of it then, eh?" You pull back from him and hear a grunt of protest. You start pushing him until his back hit the headboard gently. Kissing your way down to his groin, you tug at his boxers impatiently.

"Sweetheart you don't have to-"

"I want to." You cut him off.

"Fuck. You're gonna be the death o' me, love." He lifts his hips and lets you drag his boxers down, revealing his semi-hardness.

God, his cock is so beautiful. It's so thick you could barely wrap both your hands around it even when he's not fully hard.

"I'll make sure to send you off gently with a kiss, Simon." Your mouth slowly engulfs the tip of his cock, licking all around it. Simon lets out a groan as he grabs your head gently.

"Oh, fuck. That's it, sweetheart. So sweet, being so good f' me." He encourages sweetly and it's enough to get you preening and moving your head excitedly down his length.

Just as you know his habits, Simon also knows what makes you tick. Getting praised by him almost always makes you putty in his hands and he makes sure to take advantage of this information to its full potential. He loves to praise you even for the smallest of things, such as cooking for him when he gets back.

Telling you how lovely you are and how he's thankful for you taking the time to cook for grumpy, old, Simon.

You continue taking more of his length in your mouth, gaggling slightly from the sheer size of him. You can taste the salty precum on your tongue and your eyes roll back from pleasure, taking him in more enthusiastically.

"Slow down, love. Don't want- ugh.. you t' hurt yourself." Simon tries to pull your head back to give you space, but you're not happy about it. You glare up at him best as you can before taking him down to the hilt.

Nose pressed deep, you can smell the slight tang of his musk, making you slightly delirious. You moan, sending vibrations up throughout his body.

Simon trembles with pleasure, groaning.

"Yeah, you like that sweetheart? Love choking on my cock? Hmm?"

At his words, you slowly take your mouth off of him, replacing it with your hands. Slick from your spit and his precum, your hand glides along his shaft easily as he bucks into your hand.

"Mhm.." You put your mouth on him once more, only pulling away to rub it all over your face. "Love it so much, Si. Love having your cock in my mouth. Can't live without it."

Simon admires you, cockdrunk on his leaking shaft. Even with his mess all over your face as you slobber on him, he thinks you look absolutely gorgeous.

Looking up at him, it's like you can see hearts in his eyes. You've been wet since the moment you woke up to him next to you, but him looking at you like you're the only person he wants to see on him makes you feel on top of the world.

Unable to take it anymore, you whine pathetically and start humping the bed.

Simon sees you writhing on the bed below him and chuckles as you continue kissing all over his cock.

"Look at you.. so needy, sweetheart. You don't need to hump the bed like a dog in heat. I'm right here, love." With that, he gently pulls you off his cock. You groan dismay, body going slightly limp from desperation.

"Need you so bad, Si." You beg him, tears starting to form in your eyes. You think you're going to crazy if he doesn't fuck you soon. He's about to leave soon for months and you're desperate for him to leave his mark on you.

Simon gently tuts and caresses your cheek. He's in awe of how he's got such a lovely, needy, pet wrapped around his finger. He hasn't had someone this devoted to him in a very long time — someone who's always excited to see him come home, someone who's never asked for him for more than what he can give.

Maybe it makes him a narcissist that he's happy of the fact that you're so desperately in love with him, you'd rather have parts of him than not at all.

But during early mornings where he'd find you sniffling into your pillow, he feels pain in his chest where his heart resides. He knows you cry over him.

He mourns the love that you two could have, but he'd rather mourn over the fantasy he's created in his head — the fantasy where he wasn't fucked up and is able to receive the kind of love you freely give, than have you be heartbroken when Simon inevitably doesn't come home one day.

"I got you, sweetheart. Let me make you feel good." He rumbles against your lips. In a split second, he'd managed to lay you out on the bed and now hovered above you.

He takes a moment to stare at your face. Wide-eyed, sweating, and panting heavily. He peppers kisses all over your face.

His little pet all worked up over sucking his cock.

He's staring at you for a few seconds, making you writhe around, but you never break his stare. It was as if the both of you were trying to commit each other's faces to memory right in this moment, not knowing when you were going to be able to see each other again.

You bring your hand up to his face, slightly wiping the sweat away from his eyes.

His eyes.

The moment he looked at you, you know you were done for. Those eyes never fail to send shivers through your whole body, as if your entire being was standing to attention when his eyes were on you.

"You're so pretty, Simon."

That seemed to break him out of his trance. He grunts slightly as if disagreeing with your statement. You sigh, knowing he's never going to see himself the way you see him.

That's okay. You'll spend as much time as he'll give you to convince him.

Simon kisses and caresses down your body as you moan from the feel of it. Teasing you with his lips and leaving small marks all over. When he gets to your thighs, he slowly raises both of them as he lightly rubs his scruffy chin on it.

"Lift those pretty legs f' me, hm?"

When you don't respond, he gently bites to get your attention and you huff. You grasp your bedsheets so tight your knuckles were going white when you feel his hot breath on you.

"Such a pretty pussy. Just for me, yeah?" He kisses your folds gently, the sensation of his scruff causing a prickly sensation, making you wail in pleasure.

"S-Simon!" You were so needy and sensitive — Simon loved that about you.

"So sensitive." He murmurs against your weeping pussy. He runs his finger across your folds, gathering the wetness. You look down at him as he tastes your wetness on his finger.

"Fuck, Simon."

"Mm, my favorite taste."

After a few moments of simply kissing all around your folds and your clit, Simon decides to stop teasing you. He presses his face in your folds and licks a stripe across it.

He repeats this action multiple times, sucking on your little bud in between. He rolls his finger around your clit as his mouth makes suckling noises. The sensation of his tongue and finger on you make you gasp loudly — your eyes rolling back.

You arch your back and don't stop chanting Simon's name like a prayer. Like he was going to disappear if you stopped calling his name.

"That's it. Let me hear what you want, pretty." He brings two of his fingers back inside your walls, lightly caressing them. He's teasing you, waiting for you to beg him to put his fingers inside of you. You break instantly, begging for him to use his thick fingers to please you.

"Please, Simon. Please, please, please. Need your fingers in me."

How could Simon deny you when you beg so sweetly?

Humming against you, he slowly sinks his fingers inside your aching walls. You sigh in contentment, unconsciously clenching on his fingers.

"Relax love, you're choking my fingers." You relax a bit at his words, trying to get your breathing back to normal. The death grip you

It seems that Simon had other ideas, because as soon as you loosened, his fingers started picking up. You start wailing again at his sudden shift in pace, grabbing his hand that was gripping your thigh.

His hand lets go of your thigh and entwines it with yours.

"Doing so good for me. You can take it, sweetheart. Be good and cum on my fingers, yeah?" At this point the both of you were panting heavily, his heavy cock still leaking precum onto the bedsheets. You didn't realize it before, but you're just now realizing how the bed is creaking from his hips.

Simon pants heavily, the room getting warmer by the second. His heavy groans makes your pussy throb around his fingers as you feel a pressure building in your lower belly.

"Si- please. So close."

Knowing you're close sends him over the edge, his tongue works faster and sloppier in tandem with his fingers. Simon moans and and your back starts to arch higher than before.

You're now making a mess on the bedsheets, wet noises can be heard loudly as it echoes throughout the entire room. You feel hot, sweaty, and suddenly everything's too much.

The lights are too bright, the noises too loud, and you feel so sensitive it burns.

"Simon, I-" You whine, legs starting to thrash as Simon pulled his fingers away to hold your legs. You feel your nerves lighting awake as you feel every single sensation as he sinks his tongue inside.

"Love you Si, love you so much. I'm—" Your body seizes and freezes for a moment and a little flick of his tongue against your bud makes you lose it. Your orgasm washes through you like a crashing wave, causing you to tremble in his hold and let out gasps as you struggle to breath normally and let your legs fall.

Simon lets you catch your breath as he lifts himself up, still hard. You rest your eyes on him and you see him lick his lips — his entire mouth and chin shiny with your slick.

He hovers above you once more, leaning down to give you a kiss. You reach up enthusiastically, pulling him down by his neck. He grunts at the sudden force as you slant your lips against his. It's messy, his lips slick with spit and yours with a small trace of drool. The kiss is desperate, teeth knocking into each other more than once.

It goes on for a while before Simon starts to pull back. Before he's successful, you wrap both your legs around his waist and Simon gasps at the sensation of his cock pressed against your slick.

"Need you inside, Simon. Want you in me." Murmuring against his lips, your hand desperately wanders down his sweaty body and grips his cock.

He lets out a grunt at the sudden warmth enveloping him and is unable to control as his hips involuntarily thrust forward.

"Yeah? You want my cock? Take it, sweetheart. It's all yours." He watches in a daze as you slowly align him with you. The moment he feels his tip rub on your slippery folds, he lets out a whimper.

"Please Si.." You whisper to him. "Wanna feel you inside me so bad." Simon coos at you, seeing you beg him to fuck you never fails to make his brain circuit for a few seconds.

He teases you a few seconds longer, just to hear you beg more for him. He begins to feel bad when you start humping the air in hopes of getting his head inside you.

You're babbling incoherently now, eyes closed, hands wandering all over Simon's body. He gives you mercy and starts to push inside your throbbing hole. It takes a bit of time, but when his head manages to push through, he's already able to feel your walls pulsate around him.

"Oh, sweetheart. So needy f' me." He's also barely coherent, his eyes focused on his cock deeper inside your tight hole. "What are you gonna do when I'm gone, hm? Who's gonna fuck you this good?" Simon barely realizes what he's saying until he's spoken them. The thought of someone else fucking you when he's gone lights a fire inside him.

"Oh, fuck." His cock is fully in you now and you can feel every vein pulsating inside of you. Your hands are gripping Simon harder, possibly leaving red marks all over his body — you relish in the thought of Simon looking in the mirror and seeing the marks you left on him. "No one, Si. No one's gonna fuck me as good as you. Don' want you to go. Want you here with me." Your mouth hangs open uselessly, overwhelmed with the pressure of Simon in you.

Hearing you admit so openly you weren't going to fuck anyone else drives Simon even crazier. You realize now how much of an impact your words have on Simon when he starts pounding your poor pussy that was still sensitive.

"Yeah? That's right, sweetheart. No one can fuck you like I can." It takes him a few seconds to get his words out, huffing above you. You can barely hear what he's saying, ears ringing from the blinding white, hot pleasure coursing through your entire body. Your hands try gripping him as long as you can but his thrusts are causing your body to jostle relentlessly, and now your arms flail helplessly before holding onto the headboard.

Simon is no longer on his forearm, his head resting in the crook of your neck as his hands grip your waist. You're sure his hands are going to leave prints in the morning from how hard he's gripping you.

You don't mind at all.

Your brain feels foggy, only speaking Simon's name over and over again. Simon's no better than you, grunting and groaning at every thrust that leads him deeper into your hole.

"Fuck, fuck, fuck." He moans. "So good for me, so sweet for me." Your legs no longer have the energy to stay corded behind his back, limping helplessly beside you as Simon fucks you.

You feel another orgasm creeping up on you as your walls begin to clench around Simon's cock. Simon hisses at the feeling, leaning up to look at your cream gathering at the base of him. He looks up to the ceiling, gasping in pleasure.

"Si, I'm so close, I-" He brings his head down to give you a chaste kiss before pulling away, nose touching yours and staring into your eyes.

"Let go f' me, sweetheart. Gonna cum on my cock and be good?" He coaxes you, one of his hands going to your face. You don't even realize you're crying until Simon wipes your tears away.

You can't take it anymore, the loving look in his eyes and feeling him inside you breaks you.

"Love you so much, Si. I love you so fucking much." You cry out to him as you're finally sent over the edge. You wail loudly, back arching as Simon continues to thrust at a slower pace, going deeper than before.

"God, fuck. I love you, I love you. Fuck." He continues to mumble against your neck. Your jaw goes slack and another orgasm seizes your body as you clench and gush all over him.

His thighs are drenched from your slick and when he feels your walls pulsing repeatedly over him, he feels shivers all over his body and he cums.

The blinding pleasure takes him off guard, thighs shaking from the sheer force. He continues thrusting shallowly, dragging out his orgasm as his cum fills up your hole to the brim.

He gasps and bites down on your neck, not stopping until he's fully come down from his high.

You're shell shocked, one hand over your eyes as you thinking about what just transpired. This was nothing like before. He'd never said 'I love you', ever. You take a moment to regain your thoughts, heart thumping wildly.

By this point, your hopes had soared like never before, the small part of you that still believes you can have something with Simon begins crawling out of you — coming back alive.

"Si-" You start as you catch your breath and lift your head slightly to look at him.

"Sorry." He mumbles lifting himself from your body, plopping himself on the pillow beside you.

There's nothing but silence for a few minutes. A part of you wants nothing more than to confront him, get him to face his feelings. But you know Simon and that if you did that, he'd panic.

So, you wait. And wait. And wait.

Until he coughs.

"I have to go. Supposed to meet the boys in an hour." He grumbles, fumbling around to get himself off the bed and find his clothes.

Your heart breaks. Was he really going to go away for a few months without talking about what just happened? You had to make a choice. Either speak now or forever hold your peace.

"Simon." You speak with such a finality in your tone that it renders Simon frozen. He pauses putting his pants back on and stares up at you, terrified.

"I love you." You say, loud and clear. You've told him you loved him in the throes of passion and in the sleepy haze of early mornings, but never when both of you were wide awake. Like a secret that's only meant to be whispered so as to not let it get snuffed out.

You see his eyes widen for a fraction of a second. He seems to debate what he wants to say. You badly wish for him to just say something, anything at all.

He doesn't.

Simon continues to put on his pants and slip his shirt over his head. Once he finally gains the courage to look at you once more, he had to clear his throat. The forlorn look on your face would haunt him until the day he dies.

He knows you love him so deeply and honestly, that there was no questioning your devotion to him. He knows that you feel for him so deeply, you'd rather hurt yourself over and over than let him go.

But he's also once harbored care and affection to someone, fighting side-by-side with someone he thought was going to never stop speaking gibberish in his ear.

If Simon almost couldn't survive losing Johnny, there was no way you were going to survive losing him.

With his heart in his throat, Simon stares at you, fighting back tears that threaten to escape. God, he wants to kiss you. He wants to kiss you and tell you he loves you more than anything in this world. That he'd fight through any battlefield with broken limbs just to come home to you. But he knows he can't give you that promise. That promise that he's going to die of old age with you.

He expects you to cry or scream, but nothing in the world would be able to heal the way Simon's heart breaks when you only give him a sad smile.

"That's okay. I know you're not selfish enough to love me back."

He knows he should just leave, but he can't help himself from hurting you once more. Simon steps forward, cradles your head in his hands and lay a kiss atop your head.

And then, he leaves.

[ozzgin]

Yandere! Yakuza x Reader (III)

A whole lot of confusion as to whether Reader and her yakuza friend are actually dating. After much back and forth and a coworker being threatened, the awaited confession might finally take place.

Bonus part: Kazuya tells Reader about his and Daitou's past and how they ended up working for the yakuza.

[Part 1] [Part 2] [Part 3] [Part 4] [Part 5]

TW: Obsessive behavior, violence

Tags: @vinivave @ansy-tea @evvie8 @angelicbunnee @jingerbreadoutofstock @azukoya @randomlyblues @alien-consummation @neverlandlostchild @mimiemie @toji-whore @cloudie-skay @lilkittenmitten

The items are scanned and Kazuya finishes paying. He looks back, searching for Daitou, and finds him wandering among the narrow aisles of magazines and manga. They'd stopped by the konbini at the train station after their job.

"Here's your bentou." The blonde man extends a small box, eyeing his friend suspiciously. "Say, do you have an upset stomach or something? You're uglier than usual." 

Daitou thanks him with a nod, but doesn't take the neatly packaged food. He's idly playing with the cover of a romance volume, bending and straightening its corner.

"Nah, nothing like that. Just, ya know, feels a bit like (Y/N)'s been avoiding me. She hurries straight home after work and barely waves hi. I thought we'd do more things together now that we're dating."

Kazuya nearly spits out the soda he opened while listening to Daitou's troubles. He snorts and quickly wipes his mouth. 

"Wait, are you serious? You actually asked her out? And she said yes??"

Daitou thinks back to the time he gifted you your stalker's finger and teeth, the way you defended him, and the way you quietly walked home and almost held hands. That pretty much made it official, didn't it? So he confidently nods to his utterly baffled partner in crime.

"You little rascal, you! Who would've thought you had it in you?!" He cheerfully slaps Daitou's back and wraps his arm around his neck. The dark haired man blushes and scratches his cheek awkwardly. "You should've told me earlier!"

True. Between the two of them, Kazuya has always been extremely charismatic and popular with women. His perfectly combed blonde hair, his sparkling designer suits, his luxuriously elegant cologne. The handsome features and assertive smile. More than once he'd been approached by modeling agencies, and he likes to joke his lust for violence stopped him from living the glamorous life. In comparison, Daitou has the opposite effect on people. The room will empty if he steps inside. He's unnervingly tall, with bulging muscles, has multiple scars crossing his face, and his prosthetic eye always ends up twisted in the strangest position, causing him to look like he's only missing the straight jacket. Everyone is shocked upon hearing about their friendship. 

So it makes sense that Kazuya would have the required experience to offer him decent advice when it comes to (Y/N).

"Listen here, if there's one thing you should know, it's that women like a guy that fights for them. You gotta show them you care. What can you offer that other guys can't?"

The tall man listens intently, with a concentrated frown as if taking mental notes. He's not entirely sure who he should fight in this ordeal, but he doesn't want to embarrass himself in front of Kazuya, so he nods vehemently to his words.

"That's the short preview. If you have any more questions, just come over later. I'm piss tired, so I'll go home and have the nap of a lifetime." He yawns deeply to showcase his exhaustion and slowly walks away, throwing his hand in a lazy wave. 

The yakuza remains standing, still ruminating over the words of wisdom generously offered by the expert himself. Is he to randomly beat up people on the street as you watch? Won't Boss be angry if he attacks civilians? He gasps in realization. Perhaps this is what Kazuya meant. What kind of man is he if he can't even go against his Boss? So what if Boss won't like it? He has to prove himself to you. 

With newfound determination, he clenches his fists and gazes out of the window. 

That's when he notices you. You seem to be returning from work. Even more - and this causes his jaw to tighten in anger - some unknown man is walking next to you, cheerfully chitchatting and gesturing. 

That settles it. 

"You really didn't have to walk me home." You laugh clumsily to the man at your side.

A new coworker recently joined your company, and you've been asked to show him the ropes. You gradually discovered you had quite a lot in common, throughout your ample opportunities to gossip and talk leisurely. Your schedule isn't as packed nowadays, given you'll show up earlier and leave later.

Normally you'd prefer to be in your warm bed as soon as possible, but you've been feeling rather tense since the incident with Daitou. During his heated exchange with Kazuya, you've heard mentions of 'being liked by women' and 'having a crush on someone'. You thought it involved you and you nervously awaited further explanations from Daitou himself, but on the way back he was completely silent. You didn't have the courage to bring it up, so you assumed there must've been a misunderstanding somewhere along the way. 

Which, after all, would make plenty of sense. What business would a yakuza have with you? He's already shown much more courtesy than it was required of him. Hoping he'd also confess his feelings on top of everything was downright ridiculous and you're embarrassed to admit you'd harbored such cheesy fantasies to begin with. 

"Don't sweat it. You might not know", the coworker warns with lowered voice, "but this area is reeking of gangsters. I'm surprised you've been fine so far, but you should be more careful."

"O-oh...I see..." You glance at him and hold back a smirk. You doubt he could protect you from Daitou or Kazuya, but you appreciate his chivalry nonetheless. 

There's an uncomfortable pause as you stand in your doorframe, having reached the intended destination. The man hasn't left yet, waiting expectantly. He lowers his head towards yours and you swiftly slam the door, muttering something about an emergency. 

"Cute." He thinks to himself as he chuckles and steps away.

There's always a next time.

The coworker heads towards the train station in a relaxed strut. At the first intersection, however, he feels his clothes being pulled and he finds himself abruptly shoved in an empty room by an unknown assailant. 

Daitou easily lifts him up by his collar and nonchalantly throws him in a chair. It seems to be a small storage unit, possibly belonging to one of the shops. 

"What's your business with (Y/N)?" He barks.

"Huh? I should be the one asking-" The man pauses for a second, going over his conversations with you. "Could it be that you're the stalker she mentioned?"

Naturally, you had left out the part where your stalker was carefully packaged and dumped in a place unknown. To your coworker, he was very much still alive and a potential threat.

The yakuza is taken aback. 

"I'm her boyfriend!" He retorts angrily. 

"Bullshit. She doesn't have a boyfriend."

Another slap to the face. Daitou's cheeks are becoming increasingly red and he runs his fingers through his hair, attempting to calm down. Why, this son of a...

He marches to one of the metal shelves behind, grabbing his tool belt. Simultaneously, the door opens and Kazuya sheepishly peeks his head in. His blonde locks are ruffled and one can tell he's freshly woken up. 

"Yo, I just realized I might've been too metaphorical with you back at the store so I've been texting you, but you didn't-...Wait, why is there a guy handcuffed to the chair?"

He crosses his arms, with a habitual scolding glare towards his friend. 

"I just caught this cockroach flirting with (Y/N)! Went all the way to her place!" Daitou whines, his face full of indignation.

"Of course you know where she lives, you fucking stalker." The coworker exclaims bitterly. 

"Watch your mouth buddy, he ain't no stalker!" Kazuya straightens his back and approaches the mysterious man. "If he's right, and you've been messing with his woman...We ain't letting that go. Today you learn why no one fucks with the yakuza." 

The two men exchange a knowing look.

You drop yourself on the sofa and groan. Tomorrow will certainly be strange. Was the coworker trying to kiss you just now? You'll have to think of a polite way to turn him down next shift. Is it because you're not interested, or because you're still hoping to have a chance with Daitou? You slap your cheeks vigorously, trying to pull yourself out of such thoughts. 

You suddenly notice the foreign wallet sticking out of your bag. Your  coworker had dropped it earlier today while running for the train, and you offered to throw it in your bag to save time. Except you forgot to return it.

You check your phone. It hasn't been that long, so maybe you can still reach him if you hurry. Without much contemplation, you pluck the wallet and sprint out.

As you dash past the buildings, you have the idea of calling the man and asking him to wait instead. Why run like a madman? You stop and rest a hand against the wall, trying to catch your breath. Ugh, you've been so scattered today. This should've been the obvious choice, instead you sprang out. Silly. 

From around the corner you can make out the familiar wails you've learned to ignore. Whoever the yakuza tortures is not your problem. You are about to scurry away, yet something about these whimpers feels odd. No...Could it be?

You tiptoe down the vacant alleyway and try to catch a glimpse inside through the small, dirty window. As a matter of fact, it is your beloved coworker. Kazuya is holding his arm against a table, with the fingers forcefully fanned out, and Daitou has a blade secured over the pinky finger. 

You elbow yourself against the door in a theatrical entry. 

"What the hell are you guys doing?! That's my coworker!" You yell.

Daitou freezes, and Kazuya instantly releases his grasp. They turn to you, shocked.

"Stay out of it, (Y/N), this is to be settled among men. This bastard insulted your boyfriend, we can't let it slide!" Kazuya regains his composure and defends his cause fervently, pointing to the man that's now sobbing and crying uncontrollably. 

"Boyfriend?" You question, mouth agape. 

The blonde man stares at you. 

"You're...You're dating, aren't you?"

"Since when?" You demand, confused and upset.

Both you and Kazuya turn to Daitou for answers.

"I'm going to ask you one more time. Did you actually ask her out, Daitou? Did you say it out loud?" Kazuya's voice breaks in exasperation.

"W-well, I didn't...I didn't say it, but I thought..." the man's eyes dart between you and his friend. He gulps. "W-we almost held hands, didn't we?"

Overwhelmed with anger, the blonde stomps over to the shelves and kicks one to make his point, loudly bemoaning his friend's lack of social awareness. He can't believe he went along with his nonsense. Him, of all people! He should've anticipated it. 

As the coworker weeps and Kazuya continues his foul monologue, you can't help the blush that's now burning across your face. You fidget anxiously next to the tattooed man.

"Y-you thought we were dating?"

"Sorry for not making it clear." Daitou is once again twiddling with his prosthetic eye, dejected. "Is it too late to ask you out now? Because I do like you a lot..."

"Since you put it so nicely...I can't really say no~" Your ears are bright red and you're twirling your hair. Is it truly happening? Are you dreaming? Everything feels snug and fuzzy and the butterflies are swarming your stomach. 

You don't have time to enjoy your romantic encounter, as Kazuya is now behind you, clearing his throat.

"Alright, you lovebirds, what about this one here, then?" 

You suddenly remember your coworker and an icy cold flashes through your body. 

"Oh God, how will I explain this at work? I'll get fired!" You bite your nails in terror. You can already visualize the slip of unemployment. The long lines at the Job Center, you and the homeless. Panic begins to build up. 

Until Daitou's large hands rest on your shoulders. He's unexpectedly warm. 

"Don't worry about it, (Y/N). I'll have a word with Boss, and we can get you a job here. This way we can spend more time together", he suggests with childish enthusiasm. 

You glance up at him, moved by his soothing words.

"I wouldn't want to bother you like that."

"Hey, it's my fault you ended up in this situation. You can leave everything to me." He reassures you proudly.

"That didn't answer my damn question." Kazuya points out, annoyed.

"Can't we just kill him or something? He did call me a stalker, and I'm still upset about that..."

Daitou stretches and sighs in boredom, pondering the options. Once he's decided on the outcome, he shoos you away lovingly. You don't need to see this part. 

Bonus: Daitou's backstory 

"Oh, right, how did it go with your tickets?"

Kazuya is walking beside you, hands in pockets. Every now and then he removes the cigarette from his mouth to tap away the piling ash.

"Well, I still have both kidneys, but I won't be swimming in cash for the next months at least." You respond, slouching your shoulders dramatically for the effect. 

"Flying abroad is always expensive. Unless, I don't know, you book years in advance."

"Yeah. I should've looked earlier, but I wasn't sure about my work schedule. At least I get to see my family and friends for Christmas." 

After a few more steps in silence, you glance up at the blonde man. He notices your curious stare and raises his eyebrows, as if encouraging you to speak up. 

"What about you? Will you be going home for the holidays?"

He grins at your question and proudly places a hand on his chest.

"This is my home, actually! I was born and raised in this very neighborhood."

"Really? Was it not a yakuza quarter before?" Your eyes widen at his statement. 

"It was." Kazuya blows some of his smoke in your direction and you cough lightly. "You know the soapland further down the street?"

You nod.

"Mom used to work there. One of the clients got her pregnant and she found out too late. She had a room upstairs, and I just kind of tagged along. The other girls looked after me, too."

You recall one instance when Kazuya received a phone call about some drunkard causing a ruckus at the brothel, and he shot up without a word, rushed out and returned with bloodied knuckles. At the time, you'd assumed he's a client himself and maybe got attached to one of the girls. Now it makes sense. You're a little embarrassed of your obvious prejudice. If he grew up there, it must be his way of showing gratitude to the workers who loved him despite the circumstances. 

"Oh, what about Daitou, then? Is he from the area, too?"

The man frowns and purses his lips thoughtfully. After a moment, his features soften up again and he sighs.

"I suppose you're his girlfriend, after all. It's also not a secret per se..."

Your ears perk up at the strange reaction to your inquiry. 

"I mean, it's just a bit of a grim topic. No one knows for sure. Boss found him on the streets years ago, when he was a wee kid." 

He presses his thumb and index finger together, emphasizing the small size to you. 

"I don't know all the details, just what the Seniors told me - I was a kid myself back then - but it was pretty bad. Had no shoes on, scratches and cuts all over. His left eye was swollen and terribly infected, that's how he lost it, actually. Boss felt sorry for him, so he took him in.

They did try to ask him for parents or relatives, but apparently he wouldn't speak at all. Took him like a year to finally open his mouth. Even now, if you ask him anything about his past, he just pretends he didn't hear you. So maybe don't bring it up to him."

You shake your head along, urging him to continue with more details. Kazuya seems to warm up to the memories and slows down, indulging in the recollection. 

"Anyways, one day Boss' car is followed and he gets shot in the shoulder. Some snot-nosed trainees from the rival gang. They hadn't even gotten their pins yet, wanted to impress their older brothers I guess.

Daitou heard about it and went after them. One of our Seniors - he's a tough guy alright, been with the Family for decades - he told me he was sweating like mad when they found him. Daitou was just a teen at the time, but he butchered those guys up so bad they couldn't tell them apart anymore. Even bit a few bullets, and still kept going, like a crazed animal. The adults were freaking out. They didn't expect him to be this strong.

I suspect they were pretty afraid of him, you know? They were probably thinking, "if one day he has it out for us, we're done for!", so they told Boss they should kick him out. But at this point Daitou was like his own son, so he laughed and said, "What's the matter with ya, he does your dirty work and you wanna get rid of him?! If the boy wants to fight, let him!", and he arranged for Daitou to join the Family officially. I was recruited around the same time.

We didn't get along at first, I mean, they warned me to stay away because he's crazy and also Boss' favorite. He didn't hang out with anyone. He had his own jobs, the mercenary stuff no one else wanted to deal with.

You might not believe it, but back then I was an angry, stubborn asshole. It didn't sit well with me that this guy was out there, doing his own thing. I had a reputation myself, before I dropped out of high school I was pretty much undefeated. I thought I'd see it with my own eyes, this all-powerful jackass even the Seniors avoided."

You smile faintly, trying to imagine a young Kazuya without the expensive, flashy suit and polished appearance.

"So one evening I just walked up to him and told him to join me outside. Didn't even give him a speech, just rammed my fist into his face. This was my signature move, you know, I can't even count how many guys I knocked out with this punch. Straight into the jaw, sends your brain spinning. Whew, and this guy? He didn't even flinch! Just stood there and looked at me like I was dumb. I was pissed off at this point, you can imagine, it felt like he was mocking me. So I yelled we ain't done until one of us gives up. 

He understood what I wanted and finally fought me earnestly. Hell, he even knocked some of my teeth out. This one here's an implant. Mad expensive. Anyhow, as much as it hurt my pride, I'd lost fair and square. So I got up, wiped the blood, and asked him to come grab a drink with me. My treat. 

You should've seen his face, (Y/N). I think it was the first time I've witnessed him smile. 'Really? Can I? Are you sure?' He was like a stray dog after you've thrown him some leftovers. Kept that dumb grin the whole night. You could've given him a clown hat and people would've paid to see the circus. 

That's when I realized this poor bastard probably just wanted a friend. The next day I went to pick him up again and he was beaming like a princess. Heh. Afterwards he started following me around and eventually Boss called me in. I thought I got into trouble or something, even brought a bunch of gauze pads in case I needed to slice off my finger. Turns out he'd heard of us becoming pals, and he asked me to maybe attend Daitou every now and then because he always leaves a mess and everyone's too scared to deal with him. We've been teamed together ever since."

You realize you've been standing in the same spot ever since Kazuya begun talking, completely entranced by his story. He chuckles upon seeing your expression and ruffles your hair. 

"Man, I sure rambled a lot. Sorry about that. In any case, that was my piece about Daitou. I'm sure you already know this, but he's not a bad guy. Just has a twisted sense of loyalty. Once he finds someone to serve, he doesn't see anything else.

Hell, I'm his closest friend and I'm convinced he wouldn't hesitate to kill me if it was for Boss."

Upon further consideration, he smiles and winks at you.

"Or for you. Especially you."

[roosterforme]

Yours Truly, Bradley Bradshaw Part 5 | Rooster x Reader

Summary: With each email written and received, you and Bradley are both aching for more details. While he's thinking about plans for a first date, you get apprehensive, knowing you're going to be devastated when he returns to wherever he calls home after a few days of leave. If the two of you had an opportunity to speak more intimately, there's a chance the details could fall into place.

Warnings: Fluff, language, Bradley being hot

Length: 4200 words

Pairing: Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x Female teacher!Reader

Check out my masterlist for more! Yours Truly, Bradley Bradshaw masterlist

After much consideration on the matter, you sat down at home that evening with your phone and started to type up a response to Bradley. He wanted to know in an overabundance of detail how you'd feel if he asked to cancel your dinner reservation and chill with takeout instead? You weren't quite sure what he was getting at, and it felt a little bit like he had given you another assignment to work on, but you were planning on being completely transparent with him. 

Once again, the ease with which you and he communicated, even through the written word alone, was something that made you a little dizzy. A little needy. Bradley had better communication skills and paid you more attention than half of the men you'd dated, and he wasn't even in the same time zone as you.

Bradley,

We got the package you sent. My kids went wild over their personalized notes, as per usual. You've reached full celebrity status in my classroom. We'll be working on sending some notes back to you in the next few days, so brace yourself.

Please remember that you asked me for an abundance of detail here... What would I do if you wanted to change plans? Wanted to spend a quiet evening hanging out at your place instead of going out? In an extreme effort to sound as cool as possible right now... just thinking about this is making me feel warm enough that I need to take a lap around my apartment. I guess first of all, I would tell you that as far as takeout is concerned, I love Thai food the most. I'm not very picky though, so even a generic pizza and some beer would more than suffice. 

If you said you were tired from work and still wanted to hang out, I wouldn't be too pressed about the details. I would be perhaps a little giddy that you missed me enough to want me around. I'd offer to pick up dinner on my way. I would let you choose the movie. I wouldn't even be upset if you fell asleep. In fact I'd probably just cover you with a blanket and let you doze. There is perhaps no worse feeling than forcing yourself to go out when you just really don't want to. And right now nothing sounds better to me than watching a movie with you on your couch. But I have to know... if you're 6'1", are you too tall to stretch out there comfortably? Where would I end up? Would we be touching? Please reply with an abundance of detail. 

I know this scenario is purely hypothetical, but it does sound pretty perfect. I'll be thinking about splitting some Thai curry with you on your couch for a long time. Maybe during those couple days of leave when you get back to San Diego, we could meet? I think I would like that, even if you just have one day before you have to get back to your regular routine. And now I need to take another lap around my apartment.

One last thing. The aviator who took my photo on the beach was a woman, but I appreciate your response. I can't guarantee I'll stay off the beach, but I can guarantee that I'll give a guy a chance. Also, what does a girl have to do around here to get a dreamy sunset photo of you? 

Once again, hitting send before I can change my mind.

You took another lap around your apartment, even going so far as to walk around the block before it got too dark outside. Thai food and Bradley Bradshaw and a movie on his couch. There was a loop playing in your mind where he leaned in and kissed you before calling you 'Gorgeous Girl' and reaching for your hand.

"Why are you torturing yourself like this?" you moaned out loud when you walked back inside all flushed with desire. You took a long bath. You made some sleepy time tea. You sat on your couch with your notebook and worked on lesson plans until it was pretty late, but you weren't tired at all.

Frustrated that you were letting this man take over so much of your brain, you went to your bedroom and plugged your phone in for the night. And that's when you heard the familiar ping, alerting you to the fact that you had a new email.

"No way," you gasped when you looked at the screen. You'd just send him a response two hours ago, and Bradley had already written back. You flopped down onto your bed, wrenching your phone back from the charger as you started to read.

Hey, Gorgeous,

Your answer was enlightening, thank you. Relieved to hear you wouldn't pout about missing the dinner reservation. I love Thai food, but I would absolutely insist on grabbing the takeout and having you pick the movie (nothing with scary spiders, please). 

I actually don't really fit on my couch too well at all. If I really stretch out, my feet dangle over the arm, and there wouldn't be much room left for you, too. Would we be touching? God, I hope so. Where would you end up? I'm blushing just thinking about the possibilities. 

You asked for details? Well, I'd ask for permission. If you gave me permission to touch you, we'd be holding hands. If you gave me permission for more than that, then you'd be covering both of us with a blanket, and I'd be holding you a lot closer. I don't think I should provide further details on that right now, actually. Gorgeous girl, you're messing with my head.

If you're feeling generous enough to give me a chance, then I'm feeling generous enough to send you a sunset photo. But frankly a girl like you isn't going to have to do much at all to get whatever she wants. Next decent sunset around here is all for you.

Your Truly,

Bradley

Well, you may never sleep again. You read his email twice before pulling up the photo of him in front of his jet, and your mind started to wander as you looked at his face. No, you'd never sleep again.

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

Bradley felt pretty ridiculous. He'd never taken so many photos of himself before in his life. Snapping a few for your class while in his cockpit with all of his gear on was one thing, but trying to get a flattering one of his face with the sun setting in the middle of the ocean was something else entirely. He was alone in a deserted part of the deck, thankful nobody else could see him. 

"Maybe she won't notice if I'm not in it," he muttered as he snapped one of the setting sun. The sky was glowing a deep orange, and the clouds moving in made everything look even dreamier. He started thinking about you and the fact that you said you were going to give him a chance. The details weren't important. He'd work that part out. When he got back to San Diego, he was going to see if you and he were as compatible in person as you were right now. But the remainder of his deployment was the one thing that was preventing that from happening immediately, and you did ask him for a photo of himself. If you really wanted it, he'd make sure you had it.

He had never been so stressed out about his scars in his adult life before right now. The best photo he took of himself was one where they looked a little more prominent. He'd sleep on it tonight and consider if he wanted to send it or a different one. Usually he didn't care at all. He supposed that in person, women would either talk to him or not, depending upon if they were bothered by the way he looked or not. But you weren't with him in person, and the more detailed the photos were, the more likely you were to dwell on his face now. He really wasn't sure if that was a good thing or a bad thing.

After grabbing an inspired dinner alone in the mess hall, he thought about eating spicy Thai curry on his couch while you and he argued playfully about which movie to watch. Then he thought about you sitting on his lap and maybe even touching his scars which he hoped you wouldn't be bothered by. Then, as he changed to head to the gym, he imagined all the things he thought about but didn't tell you. Like pulling you onto his lap or stretching out on his couch with you lying mostly on top of him. His hand would find a nice resting spot on your back, or maybe even a little lower. His lips would eventually find yours, and the movie would become a distant memory in his mind.

"Shit." Now he was the one who needed to walk a lap before he could even go to the gym. He was already sweating by the time he got there, making it his continued mission to avoid the married woman while he listened to his playlist. He did a few extra reps, knowing you were on dry land in San Diego and wanting to make sure he looked as good as possible. Maybe he could make up for the close up photo of his face with his body.

Without sleeping on it, Bradley went back to the lounge and logged in. He sent you the best photo of the bunch along with two sentences.

Thinking of you, Gorgeous. Tell me about your week.

But he didn't hear back from you right away, and it wasn't for lack of checking his inbox. He hoped you and your students were working their way through the last batch of notes that he'd mailed. Or maybe you were busy and tired from taking them on a field trip. He was hoping there was a reason other than you not liking his bad selfie that meant he didn't get a response. 

Luckily he got busy over the weekend so he didn't have to think about it as much. Each time he climbed that ladder up to his cockpit and waited patiently for his jet to launch from the carrier deck, he took a few seconds to clear his mind and make sure he was focused on the right thing. He needed to survive this deployment so he could even potentially allow his thoughts to go further with you later.

When he made his way back to the lounge after dinner and a shower on Sunday night, he definitely got more in his inbox than he was hoping for. And not in a good way. There was a new message from you, but it was sitting right beneath a second, newer message. From Vanessa.

"What the fuck?" Bradley asked himself, loud enough that the guy next to him turned and glanced his way. It had been months since they'd spoken. Literally fucking months, and she was emailing him now? "No." Sudden panic started to boil to the surface as he quickly tried to click on it, now terrified about what she could be contacting him in regards to.

Hi,

I'm only writing to you because I have a bit of an issue that I need your help dealing with. I can't find my favorite water bottle anywhere. I think it's in your kitchen cabinet, and I just started at a new gym, so I really need it. Let me know how I can get into your house to retrieve it. And please don't take forever to respond to this like you usually do. Like I said, I really need it.

Vanessa

It was a joke. It must be. Bradley double checked the email address to make sure he wasn't being pranked by Nat or somebody else, but no, it was really from Vanessa. 

"A fucking water bottle?" he muttered. He couldn't even picture what she was talking about. Unless it was that ugly, oversized pink thing she used to carry around with her everywhere? The one with the big handle that he joked could double as a weapon? That thing?

What the fuck. He wrote back to her before he even bothered to open the email from you.

Vanessa, it's a water bottle. And it's already been months. Can't this wait until I'm home?

He hit send, rolled his shoulders and took a few deep breaths. He could archive her message so he didn't have to see it again, and he'd just deal with her bullshit later. He would read what you had to say instead, and hopefully it would cheer him up. But after he stood and stretched for a minute and sat back down, there was already a new response from Vanessa waiting for him.

"What the actual hell?" he grunted. He didn't even know what time it was at home, and he didn't take the few seconds to do the math as he started to read.

No, Bradley. I can't wait. It's a $65 sustainable, dual temperature, leak proof water bottle in a limited edition color. And I would like it back. I tried to find a replacement online, but I do not want a potentially used water bottle. Please advise.

He sat there with his fists clenched and his jaw set tight. He literally could not believe her. Anyone else would just use a different water bottle like a normal person, but he knew she'd be on his ass nonstop about this now. The fact that he was going to have to explain this situation to Nat and beg her to go over there with his spare key was almost laughable. He'd probably owe her two steak dinners if he asked her to deal with his ex girlfriend, because she never could stomach Vanessa. 

He sent Nat a quick email anyway with Vanessa's phone number which he had to look up in his phone, begging her to take care of this for him. It would be worth the price of two dinners at this point. Then he settled back in his seat and tapped on your beautiful name, letting the monitor fill up with your words. When he started reading, he forgot he was supposed to feel nervous at what you sent back in response to the close up selfie.

Bradley,

Wow. I didn't think things could improve after the photo of you with your jet and the video where you're speaking. But I was wrong. So wrong. And I'm not upset about it. You're very handsome. The sunset looks okay, too. Now you're the one messing with my head.

I'm sorry I didn't write back immediately, but you should know that your hot photo has taken up residence in my mind. My week involved three of my students getting sick with the flu as well as a bunch of parent/teacher conferences, and tonight I'm really tired. The idea of snuggling, or more, with you on your couch has been playing on loop. I'm giving you permission to hold my hand if we ever meet in person. You have very nice looking hands. You have a very nice looking everything. Would you mind me asking how old you are?

Right, well, we mailed another box back to you on Friday afternoon. My kids asked me to project a photo of a Super Hornet onto the wall so they could have a drawing contest. I finally caved and let them, and they want you to be the judge. And once again, you'll have eighteen individual letters to read. Nineteen if you include the one I put in the box.

On that note, I'm going to take a bath and snuggle up in bed. And you can't blame a girl for looking at that photo again.

Yours Truly,

Your favorite pen pal 

Now this was the kind of thing he wanted in his inbox, not questions about missing water bottles. Bradley hit reply immediately, happy that you hadn't even mentioned his scars. You thought he was handsome in the close up picture? He always figured he was okay enough looking that his height and build made women say he was attractive. But you actually called him handsome. He started typing back to you, already feeling so much better.

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

After resting all weekend, you were definitely feeling better. You loved your students, but sometimes dealing with their parents was more than you bargained for. Adults were often worse than kids when it came to complaining and exercising patience. All of the conferences from last week were a thing of the past now, but you still felt a little bad for taking so long to write back to Bradley. Especially after he sent you that photo.

Maybe you felt like you had to reel it in a little bit. What was the most that was going to happen? He'd agree to meet you during his short leave in San Diego? Maybe you'd go out on a date? It would probably be the best date of your life. It might even turn out to be the best night of your life. And then he'd leave for another station with the Navy, or maybe he'd return back home, leaving you feeling even lonelier than you did before you inadvertently mailed him that first box.

It was a good thing you had your students to take your mind off things on Monday morning. 

"Are we going to talk about aviation now or after lunch?" Violet asked as she unpacked her pencil box.

You took a deep breath and said, "We're actually going to start a unit on Natural History today." Eighteen pairs of eyes stared at you like you'd completely lost your mind. "It'll be great!"

Oliver's hand rocketed into the air. "Does Lieutenant Bradley also know stuff about Natural History? Is that what we're going to write to him about now?"

Great. Your students were just as attached as you were. "Well since our aviation unit is going to be tapering off, we probably won't need to be writing to him as much now."

"What?" gasped Jayden. 

"No way," complained Nia. 

After that, you tried to move along with your lesson plans, but the entire class just sat there quietly, barely engaged with what you were saying. And perhaps part of it was your fault, because you didn't really feel like teaching this after all. By the time lunch and recess arrived, you felt defeated. You sat quietly at your desk in your empty classroom while your kids played outside, and you ate your lunch while you checked your phone. Bradley had written back an hour ago. Even if you wanted to wait until later to read it, you wouldn't have been able to.

Hey, Gorgeous,

That note from you made my day. I can't wait for the new letters from the kids to arrive so I can spend my evenings writing back instead of absolutely living in the gym right now. You want me to judge a drawing contest? Bring it on. I'm so ready.

I'll tell you how old I am. I wasn't expecting to be so nervous about it, though. I'm thirty-six. You definitely look younger than that. I know it's never appropriate to ask a woman how old she is, so maybe you'll offer that number up without me asking? And maybe you'll tell me that I'm still within the age range of men you let email you regularly? Please?

Not gonna lie, taking a hot bath sounds amazing right now. And snuggling up in something bigger than an extra long twin bed would be heavenly. And thinking about you doing either of those things is enough to get me through the week with a smile on my face. Maybe even through the rest of the month. Maybe even to the point where I'm in San Diego. You'd look adorable snuggled up in your bed. But then again, when aren't you completely Gorgeous?

I'll be waiting for more air mail and another email.

Yours Truly,

Bradley Bradshaw

"Damn it," you groaned, melting back into your desk chair and shoving a cracker into your mouth. Even if meeting him was going to be a one-off, you still wanted to do this. You still wanted to write back to him and flirt and listen to his voice in the video he sent for your class with Marty the mechanic. You wanted to think about him working out on the aircraft carrier. You still wanted him to call you Gorgeous. You'd write back tonight.

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

Bradley was taking another video and some more photos in the shop with Marty for your class when one of the admirals stopped by. He jumped to attention and addressed him. "Sir, what can I do for you?"

"Lieutenant Bradshaw, you haven't put in for a phone call. Would you like to?"

Bradley just blinked at him for a few seconds. "I don't really have anyone to call, Sir." But that wasn't completely true. He'd never actually asked you about it, but he wouldn't mind calling your number. Which he didn't even have.

The admiral nodded and said, "Just giving first dibs to my high rankers who haven't made a call home yet. Otherwise you're dismissed, Lieutenant."

As soon as he started to walk away, Bradley found himself following along. "Actually, Sir, I may have changed my mind."

If he was already thinking about Thai food and a picnic on the beach for a first date, he might as well just ask you for your number now. As long as you didn't tell him his age was an issue. As long as you seemed keen on the idea of him calling. So he put his name down on the list, and then he started to sweat. He finished up with Marty, and he headed for the lounge.

When he logged in, he braced himself for another note from Vanessa like he always did now, but the only new item he saw was from you. He decided right then that if the vibes still felt right, he'd ask for permission to call you. And yeah, the vibes were feeling pretty fucking good. 

As soon as he opened the email, the attached photo at the bottom pulled his gaze in like a beacon. You were in bed, mostly under the covers, and the thin straps of some sort of tank top were the only thing preventing him from having a completely unobstructed view of both of your shoulders. Your skin looked impossibly soft, too perfect for him to touch with his rough hands, and your expression was playful and maybe a little nervous. He could see the soft swell of your breasts before the blankets enveloped your body in the most comfortable looking cocoon. He wanted to join you there in the worst way, and keep you warm enough that you wouldn't even need that blanket.

His heart was pounding as he started to read your note.

Bradley,

You know, it's funny you should mention that, because my currently inactive dating app profile says I'm interested in men who are between 30 and 40 years old. So you sound kind of perfect to me. And not that you asked or anything, but I turned 30 earlier this year. I hope that's within the age range of women that you let email you regularly.

I'm writing this from my bed. I have attached a photo. I'm not wearing any makeup, and I'm all snuggled in for the night, and of course I'm thinking about you. Whether it's a good idea or not, I find myself frequently thinking about you.

Your favorite pen pal

He scrolled back to the photo and sighed. Oh, he knew it was a good idea. Maybe you just needed a little bit more convincing, but it was definitely a great idea. That first date was looking better and better in his mind. He wished he could give you an estimate on when he'd be home so the two of you could start planning it. Bradley's stomach was growling for dinner as he pried his eyes away from your photo long enough to type out a message.

Hey, Gorgeous,

You're the only woman I'm going to let email me regularly. And I was right. You do look adorable snuggled up in your bed. That photo is going to keep me up at night wondering how cute you'd look in mine...

It looks like I'll have the opportunity to make a phone call soon, and I'd love to hear your voice. If you want to talk. I can't guarantee I won't sound like an idiot, tripping over my words the whole time, but hey, a guy can dream. Will you let me have your phone number?

Yours Truly,

Bradley

And now, once again, he would wait for you to respond, hoping his luck wasn't about to run out.

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

A phone call! She him your number immediately, Gorgeous! There are some things you need to hear him say in that raspy, sexy voice! Thank you @beyondthesefourwalls

PART 6

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[wqnwoos]

dating seventeen (hyung line ver.)

hyung line (95s & 96s) x gn!reader — cw mentions of food in some — written while sleep deprived (heavily) and not proofread

maknae line ver.

seungcheol

is he your boyfriend or is he your sugar daddy. unclear.

would literally pay for everything if you didn’t stop him

also just sooo soft n cuddly with you :(

sits you in his lap and when he’s especially clingy he’ll literally just hold on

like he will refuse to let go and get all pouty and whiny and starts kissing up your neck and you’re like sir i love u too but please can i just go take a piss

ALSO 😭 probably gets jealous if you’re cuddling w kkuma and not him

or if she likes you better than him… he’s never going to get over it

i feel like he’s the type of bf who would take the couch when you guys fight — like no matter how mad he is, he would point blank refuse to let you take it

pulls out all the pet names for u too, ur his baby angel love darling sweetheart and there’s nothing u can do about it!!!!!

jeonghan

MENACE

constantly teasing you omg

but like in the most endearing way possible so you can’t even get annoyed at him

big on leaning. like leans his head on your shoulder and loves it whenever you do the same

also feel like he’d love to just plop his head in your lap and have you play with his hair

like he just drags your hand to it wordlessly and if you stop for a minute he starts whining

scolds you if you don’t eat properly or miss meals and stuff like that,, he hates it so much and it makes him worry :(

do not ask him if he would still love you if you were a worm. the answer will not be the one you want.

probably replies with “i might step on you”

or even “i’d go fishing with you as bait” and then convince you — because you love him so much that you want him to eat well, don’t you???

probably squishes your cheeks at random intervals just because he can

baby talks you while he’s doing it too 😭 like “my pretty baby, so cute”

boops your nose

also makes faces at you across rooms at parties to try and make you laugh in the middle of serious convos 😭

but also the best comforter whenever you’re nervous about something; holds your hands and breathes with you :((

joshua

guys this man is sO boyfriend i don’t even know where to start. it’s kind of sickening actually

i just see him being flirty asf,,, like u guys are already dating but he’s still being so SMOOTH

also classic gentleman — holds doors for you and helps you in/out of the car

opens up all your packets and cans and everything so you don’t have to struggle

probably kisses your hand too (like ok prince charming we get it)

demands cheek kisses,, like he will just wordlessly offer his cheek to you

and if you don’t supply them he will be very upset

also hear me out: little spoon joshua

ITS A CONCEPT I MUST SHARE like i can see him being both but also just the idea of him being little spoon is cute ok

also type of bf to carry u out the car and upstairs when you’re tired (where do i find a joshua plsplsplsplsdolsdkhfje)

worst texter please just call him

teases u like HELL if u want kisses. but also supplies them in the end so who’s the real winner 🤨🤨

jun

makes grabby hands whenever he wants you to cuddle him (which is a lot)

MAKES U BREAKFAST <3

and if you don’t eat breakfast (like me) you’re about to get a lecture on the benefits of it and all the reasons you shouldn’t skip it

feeds you random parts of his meals and he literally just does it unconsciously it’s like second nature to him

learns how to make all your favourite foods too :(

giggly kisses !!!!

this is something very important to me !!! giggly kisses !!!!!! smiles into it and u guys pull away laughing and he kisses other parts of your face and u guys are still laughing and idk just giggly kisses <3

also likes to bump his nose against yours after a kiss

also random but i feel like he would genuinely be so distressed if he saw you cry like that would physically pain him :(

if he’s taller than you then probably rests his cin on your head and does that thing where he opens and closes his jaw on top of your head (idk if this is too niche or what but it’s definitely a concept)

hoshi

FOREHEAD KISSER

like would randomly cup your face in his hands and give u a big smooch on your forehead and the only reason he gives is “cause i love you”

his lock screen / home screen is almost definitely a selfie of you two doing the horanghae (with faces all squished together and smiling and

makes you do the horanghae at the end of every facetime call

buys you tiger plushies (demands to see them whenever he comes over)

also has named them all different variations of his name (hoshi, soonie, hosh, horang…)

AND omg. drunk hoshi does NOTHING except talk about you

him just sobbing into mingyu’s shoulder like “i love them sO MUCH mingyu”

(mingyu is just patting his head and wondering if it’s too late to get you to come pick him up)

i feel like he’s so cuddly too like he just squishes u in his arms -squish-

also feel like he would get so worried if you’re sick??

especially if he’s away from you

like orders delivery to your door or sends a friend over to your house to check on you and texts you every hour like “have you eaten??”

and you’re like. babe i love you but i don’t need to eat soup every hour.

wonwoo

head patter. just keeps patting your head. reasons unknown.

(probably because he thinks you’re the cutest thing to walk the planet but like whatever)

i’ve mentioned this before but i feel like he just lets you do anything

want to try on his glasses? they’re all yours. want to play games and rUIN his killstreak? go ahead!! he does not mind!!!!!

also if you wear glasses too then he’d swap his for yours just to try it

hot take but he loves having you in his lap whenever you guys are at home — scoots to the side when you’re about to sit to make u sit on him and tease you

also sits you on his lap when he’s gaming

omg if you like reading he prob recommends books to you too

like you guys just reading your books together in the same room in comfy silence wow i’m so sad

also feel like he’s another one who just squishes your cheeks when he feels like it

just does the most heart fluttering things sooo casually and randomly 😭

like he’s telling you he loves you while you guys are doing laundry or you’re making 3am ramen and he’s like wow you’re so gorgeous or he calls you cute 47374 times a day

woozi

omg best person to just like. coexist with

you guys just in his studio and he’s doing cool music things and you’re just reading or something in the corner and you guys aren’t even talking

but it’s very comfortable and sweet and it just feels nice idk if this making sense

also such a hypocrite because he’s sending go to bed texts to you knowing damn well he’s staying up for another 4 hours

pretends to cringe if you say something cheesy but also kisses you on the temple to let you know that actually he’s obsessed with you

also so cliché and overdone but that’s because it’s TRUE — makes music for you

and lets you listen to random stuff he’s making on the side (but refuses to give you seventeen comeback spoilers no matter how much you beg)

even lets you mess around with his equipment and teaches you how to use it (if u don’t know already)

one of those bfs that has an arm around u always btw

like even when you guys are with friends, 9/10 times his arm is resting on the sofa behind you

laughs extra hard at your jokes only (zendayafied!!!)

also if his members are teasing you he will defend u <3 even if you’re wrong or saying something he doesn’t agree with (like milk before cereal)

an / hopefully will do the rest of the members soon!! also i’m sorry this is so unhinged and i formatted i’m running of like 3 hours sleep but i hope you enjoy!! i’ve been xompiling this for a while whenever i cant sleep 😭

[donatellawritings]

How would rafe react the first time you call him papi? I feel like it’d be a surprise because he’s never been called that before!!

already elaborated on this for sweetheart!reader so here is americana!reader bc she’s a cutie patootie <3

rafe cameron absolutely loved calling you pet names, and he had a laundry list of names he’d found himself calling you by: pretty girl, mama, baby, princess, angel, kid — the lists goes on and on. he reserved calling you by your full name for when he had to command your attention, it let you know whether or not he was upset with you. however, you’d been used to calling him by his first name, but there was a part of you that hated how not-romantic it came off, you wanted a pet name for him, because he was yours and you felt as though he should have one. i mean, sure, sometimes the name rafey fell from your lips, but you felt it was a lazy nickname and a bit too boyish for the man you call your lover.

you didn’t even realize that the new pet name for rafe had subconsciously slipped off of your tongue as you bent down to greet rafe with a chaste kiss to his pink lips, “hi papi,” you smiled, completely missing the way rafe’s eyebrows furrowed in confusion at the sound of his new name. frankly, he didn’t know where the fuck that came from, but he wasn’t questioning it either, he thought it was hot. catching onto rafe’s silence, you slightly pouted, your head cocked to the side as you parted your sticky and glossed lips to speak, “did i- did i do something wrong?” you questioned, your doe eyes cutely widening with feverish panic as rafe ran his hand through his greasy curtain bangs with a breathy and flustered chuckle.

bringing his gaze to meet yours, rafe shifted his hips as he leaned back into the couch, “papi? that’s new,” he questioned, his flexed arms crossed over his chest as you blinked with realization.

“oh! yeah, do you like it? s’just that you’re older than me, so i feel kinda stupid calling you baby,” you reasoned aimlessly, walking towards rafe as you carefully straddled his lap, your denim skirt riding up the curve of your plush ass as rafe nodded with a smirk playing on his handsome face. with an exasperated sigh, you bite back a blushing smile as you catch rafe’s eyes staring at your mouth, “do you really like it?” you press, suddenly overwhelmed and feeling a bit too vulnerable due to the externally close proximity between you and rafe.

“i love it, princess — it sounds even better than daddy,” he teases, nudging your tummy with his ringed finger, before sliding his hand up to the base of your throat, wrapping his long fingers around your neck in a gentle hold, “s’that what you think i am? m’your daddy, huh pretty girl?” he coos in a mocking tone, his lips pulling into a subtle pout as you nod, licking over your swollen lips as rafe watches you with lowly hung eyes.

with a cheesy smile, you nodded, “rafey, come on,” you whined.

“tell me, mama — who takes care of you?” rafe cooed, his handing gripping your throat just a bit tighter.

with a shaky inhale, you watched as rafe unbuttoned his khakis with his free hand, your mouth watering as he reached his hand beneath the waistband of his boxer, “you,” you sighed, licking over your swollen lips.

“who keeps that pretty little smile on that pretty face?” rafe breathes out, pulling his hardened cock out, allowing it to slap against his tight stomach, his thick mushroom tip leaking with sticky pre-cum.

letting out a needy whine, you lift your hips, reaching your small hand down to pull your dainty crème colored lace thong to the side, “you do, papi,” you slowly sink down onto rafe’s length, a throaty moan leaving your parted and puffy lips as rafe filled you to the hilt, his heavy balls pressed right underneath the curve of your plush ass.

staring up at you through his stringy curtain bangs, rafe leans his head back against the couch, gently pushing his large hand against the hardened part of your tummy, smiling in pride as he felt the slight bulge of his tip, “fuck — y’know i’ll always be your papi, princess,” rafe slides his hand to wrap around your back, pulling you into his chest as he slowly fucks his hips up into yours, “m’always gonna take care of my baby,” rafe groans into you ear, relishing in the sound of your squelching pussy as he maintains his disgustingly slow and deep pace, soaking in every sound of your pretty little moans as your nails dig into the side of his neck.

[charliemwrites]

Part 3 for mean!Simon

CW for consensual dom/sub between Simon and Johnny; dubcon interactions with reader and Johnny. Simon is a dick per usual.

When Johnny comes home, the first thing Simon does is set him back to rights. He's been gone a bit, long enough to need a refresher on how things are done. Just in case he's gotten some silly ideas about who calls the shots.

So once he's through the door, squeezed a little "oof" out of you, and stuck his tongue down your throat, Simon hauls him off for a "reintroduction."

Simon gets him off fully-clothed, whining and panting on his boot, before he's satisfied that Johnny's not forgotten any of his manners. He's rewarded by getting to suck Simon's cock unguided for a little while, drooling and moaning and choking himself to tears. It makes such a pretty sight, Simon is almost tempted to save his discipline for another time.

Almost.

"Up."

Johnny's flushed face twists with dismay, but he drags himself away.

"What have I always told you about your toys, hm?"

Cock-drunk, it takes Johnny a moment to understand the question and develop an answer.

"Tha' I hafta earn 'em," Johnny answers, voice ruined.

Simon hums, carding his fingers through Johnny's sweat-soaked hair.

"And to keep 'em?" Simon prompts.

"Take care of 'em."

Such a smart, well-trained boy... mostly.

He yelps as Simon twists his fingers into his mohawk and wrenches his head back, exposing the vulnerable line of his bobbing throat.

"Then you want to explain what the fuck you've been doing with that pretty pussy I got you?"

Johnny's blinks, sputters. But it's obvious he doesn't understand what Simon means or why he's in trouble. Simon sighs in disappointment, knowing that'll just upset Johnny more.

"'S my fault, I s'pose. Thought you were ready." He shakes his head, eases his grip on Johnny's hair. "Thought you knew how to take care of such a nice toy."

He remembers the unmarked skin of your plush thighs, your round ass. Tsks and shakes his head, watching Johnny paw wordlessly, pleadingly, at his pants.

"M'sorry, sir," Johnny whimpers, puffy bottom lip wobbling. "M'sorry, I'll do better."

"Fuckin' right you will," Simon growls, curling a hand around his vulnerable throat. "Because you're not getting her back 'til I've taught you better. Understand?"

Johnny only just bites back a whine. But he sees the way Simon's eyes narrow and quickly nods, leaning into the hand on his throat, body going lax in submission.

"Yessir," he slurs. "Understood."

Simon strokes his thumb over Johnny's pulse, rumbling with approval. "Atta boy. Your first lesson: if you don't mark something as yours, it's free for the taking."

He hauls Johnny up and throws him face down on the bed.

"Let's begin."

--

By the time he's done with Johnny, the sun has gone down and the house smells like food.

It seems you haven't been idle while they've been preoccupied. Dinner is simmering on the stove and you're just finished turning the dishwasher over.

You turn as Johnny enters the kitchen, expression carefully neutral when you notice the slight limp in his step and the new, dark marks on his neck. He comes right up to you, slinging his arms around your waist and burrowing into your hair.

"Missed you, bonnie," he sighs. "Didnae say so earlier in all the excitement."

From the doorway, Simon watches you blink and carefully circle your arms around him in return. But your body stays rigid, slanted ever so slightly away. Would maybe even be leaning back if not for the counter against your spine.

"It's alright, I um... I got it from the kiss," you assure, patting his shoulder.

He nuzzles in a bit and you seem curious, confused. "Everything okay, Johnny?"

"Aye, jus'... LT says I cannae play with you for a while."

Your eyes dart to Simon, going big and nervous when you realize he's observing.

"Ah. W-well... uh, we can worry about that later, right?" you soothe, gently pulling away to look him in the eyes. He's bit sniffly still, even though Simon made sure he was good after "lesson." You just seem to comfort him like a favored stuffy. "Let's get a proper meal in you for now."

Johnny nods, clutching onto yours hand as you lead him around the kitchen. Collecting serving bowls, spoons, ladling out stew in generous portions - at least for two of the servings - all with one free hand.

Johnny is quiet, drowsy. You keep glancing at him, but he only sways into you whenever you stop moving, rubbing his cheek against yours.

"Havnae been takin' care of you right," he mumbles as you're reaching for tumblers from the cabinet. "LT is gonnae teach me better, though."

You freeze, blood draining from your pretty face. Your eyes flick fearfully to Simon, right where you last saw him. He doesn't so much as twitch, staring you down until you visibly swallow and turn away. There's a little tremble to your hand now as you finish getting the glasses.

"That should be... interesting," you manage. "Ready to eat?"

"Aye, m'hungry. Missed your cooking."

You muster up a shaky smile and gently hand him a bowl of stew.

"That's good to hear, Johnny. C'mon, before it gets cold."

You send him off to the dining table. In his absence, you draw in a deep breath. Then pour Simon a glass of bourbon, taking both it, and his bowl of stew to his customary spot at the head of the dinner table.

He stalks from his place in the kitchen doorway, purposefully crossing you at the corner so that you're forced to flatten yourself against the wall and sidestep. While he seats himself, he hears you getting yourself a water, collecting your own bowl.

When you return, you try to sit next to Johnny as usual, who's sat at Simon's right. This way, he acts as a buffer between you two. But Simon clicks his tongue and you pause, turning to him with a curious blink.

"Over here." He gestures to his left side, putting you across from Johnny.

"Oh... um, okay."

You shuffle around to the other side, still shaky as you set your bowl down and take a seat. Simon watches you for a long moment as you studiously avoid his gaze, eyes on your water glass.

"This is your spot from now on. Understood?" he asks.

You tilt your head enough to make it obvious you're answering him. "Yes, sir."

"Look at me when you answer," he corrects.

You twitch a bit, shift uncomfortably as you force your eyes to look at his chest.

"Yes, sir," you repeat, soft and conciliatory."

"Atta girl," he gruffs. "Now fuckin' eat, the both of you."

[luveline]

Could I request stripper reader and post prison Spencer being all domestic? I just think Spencer deserved to have someone take care of him after that

thank you for requesting! ♡ fem

cw spencer makes a weight related joke about reader but he is one hundred percent kidding/is talking about carrying the reader and not her actual body weight, pls don't read if it will upset you

“How's it feel now?” you ask. 

Spencer glances down at you from the TV. If he had his way since being released from prison, you would spend the majority of time in his lap, and the TV would not be on, but you're trying not to smother him and he's content to let you do what you want, so long as you're in arm's reach. 

“How does what feel?” he asks, frowning. 

“Your leg? You know, the one you stabbed yourself in?” 

“Fine. Surface wound. Hey, are you almost done?” 

“No. I'm making you a mug cosy.” 

“Could you not come up here and make me cosy?” 

You put your little crochet hook and yarn ball on the floor near the paper pattern you're following. “That's way too cheesy a thing to say for a felon.” You grin at him. “Good for you, I'm awful at this,” —you climb onto your knees, arms out to him as he grabs you and pulls you onto the couch— “and I don't want to do it anymore.” 

“Then don't.” He smiles as you settle against him, half on top of him, your pyjamas soft against his bare arms and legs. “I'm not a felon.” 

“I'm kidding,” you say gently. 

He puts his hand against the top of your head and forces you backwards a touch to meet his eyes. “I know.” 

You glare at him. He decides he'd like to play too and glares back. 

“Crochet is very difficult.” 

Spencer lets you drop back into his chest. “You're good at enough things already,” he says. “Like not going to prison, and being heavy.” 

You bear down on him with more weight, a laugh slipping from you unbidden. He loves how startled you sound to have laughed, and how nice you smell as you push your arm under his back to hug him. “That's sick,” you mumble, your free hand toying with the soft neck of his shirt. You pull it down, kissing the skin between his collarbone. “You can't call me heavy. That's so mean.” 

“I love you,” he says. 

You smile into his chest. “I love you too, even though you said I'm heavy.” 

“Relatively, when you're making me carry you to bed at night–” 

“I don't do that,” you laugh guiltily. “No, you've got me mixed up with someone else.” 

“Well, let's just stay here tonight.” Your phone beeps. “Or not.” 

You press yourself into his neck and talk warmth into the curve. “I'm not going anywhere, Spencer. I'm staying right here, forever. And in ten years you'll have huge muscles from carrying me to bed.” 

“And your thigh muscles will have atrophied.” 

“Like those, do you?” 

“As much as I like every part of you. You're the most beautiful girl in the world.” 

You snore. Spencer laughs, jostling you on his chest, and you drop the facade to kiss his throat in slow, meandering presses of the lips, no one place in mind, just warm half moons turned a little wider as you go. He breathes out slowly. Kisses like this are the ones that plagued him late at night, when the mind ran out of worry and turned to missing you instead. He would've given anything two weeks ago to have you laying on him like this, and now he has it for nothing. Just ‘cos you love him. 

“Are you gonna go back?” he asks quietly. 

“To the club?” You draw a short line into his neck with your nose. “Sure, once you're feeling better.” 

“I'm alright. I am.” 

“Until I'm feeling better, then,” you say, putting your hand on his cheek. You have slightly longer nails than when he went away, and the tips of them tickle his freshly shaven cheek as you turn his face to yours. “I'll go back just as soon as I stop missing you when you're in the bathroom. Or I run out of money.” 

“Don't be childish,” he says.

“I'm not, I'm being realistic.” 

“Realistically, I'll take care of you.” 

You sigh happily and kiss him. That happiness passes between you in shivers, until Spencer's hot under the collar and you're giggling. “What's funny?” he asks. 

“Maybe I'll get a job at the grocery store.” 

Spencer doesn't know what you'll do, but he'll be there for you like you were there for him. “Good idea. You can be a checkout girl and I'll stay home, looking at pictures of you and crying while you're gone.” 

You nudge him. “Don't make fun of me for that! It was a long month and a half without you, Spencer.” 

He closes his eyes and rests his forehead on yours. “I'm not making fun of you. It was the same for me, you know? Just didn't have a picture of you.” 

[sinnersweets]

DogDay x Reader part 2

A/N: Highly requested so here you guys go! Enjoy!

<----part 1 part 3---->

DogDay led me outside of the Playhouse and back outside into Playcare. A few feet in front of us was a chicken. A tall yellow chicken. Ah, that must have been KickinChicken. “Hiya KC!” DogDay was still holding my hand but with his other he waved extremely fast to KickinChicken. “Sup DD! Hey, finally got yourself a helper now huh? ‘Bout time dude.” KickinChicken then handed off the kids too, I’m assuming his helper. His helper also matched him as well. Guess that was the uniform for us working with these...tall animal mascots.  

Kickinchicken walked up to me and DogDay. “Names Kickinchicken, the cool member of the Smiling Critters.” DogDay laughed when he said that. “Go on Angel, introduce yourself.” I wasn’t used to seeing animals so tall, it scared me a little. I held out my free hand to KickenChicken and summoned some courage to talk.  

“Hello, I’m Y/N or Angel, doesn’t really matter what you call me. Nice to meet you.” KickenChicken then slapped my hand with his and started to make a handshake with me. I mirrored his movements to understand this new handshake I was given. “Haha, she’s pretty cool DD, you got yourself a rad helper.” He then looked at me up and down. “Not bad looking either.” KickenChicken smiled at me. I was going to comment on that, but DogDay beat me too it. “Look at the time! You better hurry along to your group now KC, don’t want our little friends upset now do we?” “Right, well nice meeting ya Y/N, we’ll chat later.” he spoke as he walked back to his group and helper. DogDay squeezed my hand a bit before leading us to the center of Playcare. “On with the tour!” 

--------------- 

DogDay first showed me the statue in the center. It was all the Smiling Critters. There were eight of them in total: DogDay the leader, Bobby Bearhug the loving one, KickenChicken was the cool one, Hoppy Hopscotch the energetic one, CraftyCorn was the artist in the group, Bubba Bubbaphant the smart one, PickyPiggy the foodie, and lastly there was CatNap, DogDays bestest friend. He supposably makes sure that everyone else gets a good night's rest every day to ensure that they are ready for the next day.  

Next, we went into the Toy Store. DogDay was tall, so he had to walk on all fours. “This is where the children can come and buy some sweet toys of yours truly, and the others!” I smiled and looked around. Sure enough there were plushies of DogDay and the rest of the group. There were also some other toys like a blue limp doll, a dinosaur that matched the lamps outside, what looked like a cat and a bee mixed, and other toys. I picked up a smaller version of DogDay and looked at it. “You said the kids buy these?” “Uh-huh! We give them play money to use around here, that way when they get adopted, they’ll know about the real world and how to manage their expenses.” That was smart of them. I set the plushie back down and followed DogDay outside. 

We then looked at the consoler's office and school. DogDay told me that the consolers office was where the staff would put their belongings in and where parents would go to adopt a child. Only DogDay was allowed in the consoler's office, none of the other Smiling Critters could go in there. I’m not sure why but I didn’t question it. “The school is where the children spend most of their time. I’d take you inside so you could meet Miss Delight and her sisters, but I wouldn’t want to interrupt her teachings.” “That’s okay, I’m sure I’ll get to meet them one day.”  

--------------- 

It was now naptime for the children which meant that the Smiling Critters could step away and hang out all together and just relax. I was in the consolers office to check out my assigned office. Each helper had their own office to get away to when needed. Outside my door was a card that had ‘Welcome’ on the front. I picked it up and walked into my new office. I took a look around, nice office, however what stuck out to me was the big dog bed in the corner.  

I was about to walk over to it until I heard a knock at the door. I set down the card and opened the door, but no one was there. Suddenly DogDays head popped out from the side. “Hiya Angel!” “Ah-” I fell back in shock. As I laid on the floor DogDay hovered over me with a worried expression, his sun pendant laid against my chest. “Angel?! Oh gosh I’m so sorry! Are you okay??!” I did a double-blink and then slowly sat up. “Yeah, I’m fine, I just wasn’t expecting that at all.” DogDay then held out a paw towards me to help me to my feet. I took his paw into my hand and once my hand met his paw his tail started to wag. He pulled me up to my feet and got close to me.   I wasn't used to being this close to anyone, let alone a giant dog so I started to blush. This caught DogDays attention. “Angel your face is really red, are you sick?” I was starting to feel bad, not physically but mentally. I didn’t want him to be worried about me. “I-I’m fine! Really DogDay. So, um what brings you by?” I wanted to change the subject as fast as possible. DogDay then smiled and leaned away from me. “I wanted to see if you liked the card we made!” I went to my desk, picked up the card and opened it. ‘Welcome newest helper, we hope that this job brings you happiness and joy as we do to our children here. We look forward to working with you, signed everyone.’ I did like the letter. 

--------------- 

Me and DogDay started chatting for a while until out of nowhere, I yawned. “Oh my, sorry about that.” Guess I was starting to get a bit tired. “That’s okay Angel. There’s thirty minutes left of nap time; you should rest up!” A power nap did sound good. I nodded and told DogDay that he should go back to his friends, but he shook his head no and picked me up and walked over to the dog bed in the corner. Should’ve known it was his.  

“I’d rather spend my free time with you Angel, plus as your boss you have no say.” He stuck his tongue out and booped my nose with his paw. My face got warm again. He then laid down on his bed and laid me in between his front paws. “You can rest with me Angel; I’ve been told that I’m a very fluffy pillow.” He was very soft and the smell of vanilla on him was almost like a drug to put you to sleep, and it was working. I yawned once more and closed my eyes. DogDays head rested near me. “Rest well my Angel.” was the last thing I heard before drifting off to sleep.  

A/N: Thank you for reading!

[cinnamoneve]

𝐚𝐭𝐞𝐥𝐨𝐩𝐡𝐨𝐛𝐢𝐚.

atelophobia \ əˌtɛləˈfəʊbɪə \ (n.) - the fear of imperfection of not being good enough.

❆ 𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: gojo satoru x gn!reader ❆ 𝐬𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬: satoru's been valued only what he could offer others, until he met you. ❆ 𝐰𝐜: 1.3k ❆ 𝐚/𝐧: more of a self indulgent character study to get back into the swing of writing !!! pls enjoy <3 ❆ 𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: none :3

satoru gojo held many roles and titles in his life. he was a son, a sorcerer, teacher, role model, a special grade, the honored one, the strongest. the strongest. whatever that was supposed to mean.

he knew what it meant, sure, but the lines were blurred a bit around the parameters of what exactly his role was. he was satoru, gojo-san, gojo-sensei, and whatever sweet term of endearment you thought up for him. between that, satoru’s identity and purpose got muddled as the titles and meaning were ever-changing.

he didn’t feel a certain way about any of it, really. or so he thought. the one accolade satoru couldn't claim was being totally indifferent.

you almost admired that aspect of him. how his nose scrunched up when something he eats tastes off, how he played with his blindfold when he needed to get something off his chest. or maybe, it was the way his eyebrow twitched ever-so-slightly if you pronounce a word in a funny way. there is no subtle, subdued, or nonchalant bone in your boyfriend’s body. everything on his mind was said before his mouth even opened.

because of that, you knew satoru was happy to be home by the way he refused to leave your side. it’s rare he gets a decent break like this; his students had a week-long retreat in kyoto that he’d meet them at eventually. for now, he had some small ends to tie up on the homefront that he was dragging out so he could stay a bit longer with you.

satoru sat on the edge of the empty bath, admiring you as you did your skincare at the vanity. if his legs weren’t long enough to touch the ground, you imagined he’d be swinging them back and forth as he gushed about his students.

“...and maki beat mai in a one-on-one. again.”

you rolled your eyes as you clipped hair away from your forehead, “even i could’ve predicted that.”

“i don’t know why those two always find each other if they’ve got such a grudge,” 

you patted your face dry.

“it must be a sister thing,” you chuckled.

“something like that, i guess,”

“you’re not upset you’re missing it?”

satoru studied you in silence as he let the question linger a bit more. part of him was. maybe more than just part of him. he let out a hum as he thought about it.

“not really,” he concluded, “i want to be here,”

you smiled at him through the mirror as you caught his eyes. 

“it’s okay to be both, babe. be as selfish as you want,”

was it really okay for him to be selfish? nobody had ever told him before that the choice was his. even if it always was.

satoru had spent a lot of time being what other people said he should be. unfortunately, most aspects of his personality and day-to-day life were not decided by him. maybe it was atonement for the way he acts. could it be his fault? is it punishment for the gift he didn’t ask for? it’d be rich to still call it a gift. it was more like a plague, or a curse. something he had to bear and live with, master and hone. 

it was admired, it was hated. it controlled him, he controlled it.

everything he was, fundamentally, came from what he could provide.

satoru didn’t realize how exhausting it was until you came along and shared the burden with him. silently, lovingly, and effortlessly. maybe he was a little selfish. was it selfish to miss his kids in kyoto while having the love of his life in front of him? or maybe it was selfish to relish in the time at home and drag it out for one more minute with you.

being in between is lonely. 

but the loneliness will pass, just like time always does anyway. and being lonely with you is still being with you in the first place.

satoru sank into the empty bath, letting his body fold as he lay across the width of it. he sighs heavily and smiles, closing his eyes. his drama was unsurprising–all you can do is shake your head and take his place on the edge of the bath.

he peers up at you.

“selfish, huh?” 

you place your hand on his knee, thumbing over where it bends as a way to soothe him.

“mhm, why not?”

satoru tilted his head back, just barely, looking up at the bathroom fan as he tried to think about what to say next.

“i’d like to stay like this for a bit longer,”

you smile warmly at him.

“in the bath? clothed like this?”

it wasn’t about the empty bath. or the clothes he was wearing. just like how it wasn’t about him learning about your skincare routine. it was never about the stories of his students, or the way you always checked in on megumi. nor was it about how you took all of his clothes when you were cold, knew how he liked his coffee in the morning, or the way he made sure the bed was nice and warm before you joined him there.

it was so much more in so much less. in his worst moments, he was in a warm bed with you, hearing you talk about your refreshingly mundane day as you drew a nonsensical pattern on his chest.

everything he was came from what he could provide, right? that’s how it always was.

what he inherited preceded his name, his personality, and everything nuanced about him. nearly everyone in his life cared more about his ability than anything else about him. he’s convinced people knew his technique more than they knew his favorite color. the music he liked. his favorite food. trivial things overshadowed by what he could provide. 

but the only thing he had to provide to you was love.

to you, who he was came from what he could provide. and that was pure, warm love.

he was matching pajamas, two cups of coffee waiting to be filled, two toothbrushes sitting together on the counter. he was the seat warmer that he always turned on for you when you rode in the passenger seat, along with the playlist he made with songs you listened to together.

it was refreshing. 

with you, he wasn’t satoru gojo. not the strongest, not gojo-sensei, not a special grade sorcerer. 

he was him. and it was always enough for you. 

satoru when you were doubled over from another lame joke he told, begging him to stop making you laugh so hard.

baby when he had a particularly hard day at work, holding onto your body on the couch like detaching from it would kill him.

sweetie when he was being ridiculous, dramatic, and over-the-top, watching a smile tug at your lips as he intentionally got on your nerves when you tried to hide it.

honey when you didn’t feel well, and he got to spoil you more than you’d ever let him before.

among a million other things. but never what you expected of him. 

most importantly, and his favorite, was when you called him love. is that what you really saw him as? it made him melt. the jujutsu world hardened him, but you turned a blind eye to that. it was enough to make him fall in love every day all over again.

what a privilege, he thought, to be so calloused and still love.

“yeah, in the bath like this,” he muttered.

you slid in next to him, folding your body too so the two of you were sitting in the cold, empty bath with your legs sticking out of the side.

“well, i’ll join you then, love”

there it was. he hummed contently. 

satoru felt like for a majority of his life, he felt like he had to search for his other half. seemingly, he was whole all along.

all content © cinnamoneve 2024. do not repost, modify, steal, or copy without permission.

[artethyst]

~ Leaves In A Sky Full Of Stars ~

Eris Vanserra x Rhysand’s Sister! Reader/OC

“Lucien,” Eris growled, stalking over to his sobbing and heavily pregnant mate, his brother could only stand there awkwardly, in a fruitless attempt to soothe her.

“I swear I had no part in this!” The Emissary raised his hands in mock surrender as his sister in law continued to cry, unrelenting tears spilling down her pale cheeks.

Eris sighed, and whilst he wished she would stay inside like the Healers had recommended, he couldn’t deny her anything.

His only request was that his brother chaperone her should she feel restless, especially if he happened to be caught up in meetings he was unable to be in absence of.

Eris gently removed his overcoat and draped it over her shoulders, overly paranoid that she would catch a chill in her weakened state and ignored the way Lucien rolled his eyes at his brother’s worrying.

Lucien knew, beneath everything, the feared High Lord of Autumn was nothing but a softie. A mama’s boy who would do anything for his wife should she merely ask of it.

He was certain Eris would have surrendered even his own crown- the one he had spent centuries suffering for, if it meant she was happy.

“I can’t understand what she’s saying,” Lucien was almost just as panicked, knowing whatever was wrong he’d surely be blamed for it.

“Well, we both know how successful you are with the ladies,” Eris drawled and Lucien snarled at the reference to his own mate. “My work is done for the day, you may leave.”

Lucien bowed and sent one lasting gaze at the two of them, admittedly unnerved by her frantic state.

Until recently he had never seen her cry in the many years of knowing her, and whilst he would never admit it out loud, she had always been his favourite member of the Inner Circle.

“My love,” Eris soothed her by playing with her hair, she had found solace against his hard chest as she let out small gasps, taking comfort in his scent as he provided comforting waves of love down the bond. “Tell me, what is making you so upset, hmm?”

His words held no taunt as she sniffled, and he would never tell her that he found it rather endearing how she looked- so vulnerable with her cheeks aflame and violet eyes glossy.

“T-That hawk!” She whimpered, a shaky hand moving to point at the tree before them, and only he could’ve understood her choked out words as they were sobbed into him. “I-It pushed a p-poor baby b-bird out of i-its nest a-and-“ the next part was too horrific for her to say and she cried harder as Eris sighed, stroking the back of her neck.

Oh, for anyone to see her now.

The Crown Princess of the Night Court, feared magic wielder who helped slaughter many in the war and High Lady of Autumn, brought to tears- over a baby bird.

He supposed it had something to do with the little flame growing in her stomach.

“E-Eri I want you to kill it,” the soft tone of her voice betrayed its sentiment as he paused his ministrations for a moment, his eyebrow raised in amusement. “Make it p-pay for s-slaughtering that d-defenceless creature!”

He withheld a chuckle at the irony of her demand, pressing a light kiss to the crown of her head before adjusting their position so her back was flush against his front.

His chin grazed her scalp as he effortlessly flicked his hand, the unassuming hawk turning to ash in an instant as she watched in satisfaction.

No matter how silly, trivial or frivolous her demand, he would always comply.

“Better now my love?” He crooned as she became giddy, throwing her arms around his neck as he breathed in her scent- a sickly sweet smell of a youngling mixed with his own.

It brought a new possessiveness- pride within him to know she now carried his smell with her, a subtle hint of spice and ember imbedded in her natural twinge of jasmine.

He felt her heart soar as she tugged against his own through the bond, her soft cheek nuzzling against his rough hand which came to gently rub at her damp skin.

“I’ve missed you,” she mumbled, as he unwittingly melted at her words, thinking he might never get used to the love she had shown him- insisted that he deserved.

“You saw me this morning Bunny,” he teased as she pouted.

“That was hours ago!” She insisted guiding his calloused palm to her slightly protruding stomach. “I need you…We need you.”

He couldn’t help a genuine smile overtaking his wry smirk, feeling the life they created flicker beneath their joined hands.

“It seems our little ember agrees,” he mused and despite his biting fear of her upcoming labour, as everyone knew- Fae births were not only extremely rare, but horrifically dangerous, despite it all he was happy.

Despite what having a child would mean, a new threat to him he had no doubt people would take advantage of, he couldn’t help but feel at peace too.

At peace with himself. At peace with his mate and their unborn baby which would soon complete their little makeshift family.

[rose-tinted-kalopsia]

≡;-꒰ 𝑿𝑨𝑽𝑰𝑬𝑹 ꒱₊˚ ପ⊹ I 𝑯𝒂𝒗𝒆 𝒘𝒆 𝒎𝒆𝒕 𝒃𝒆𝒇𝒐𝒓𝒆?

╰┈➤ ❝ xavier x afab!reader | smut nsfw 18+ mdni

tags : fluff, angst if you squint, crying (reader feels a rush of emotions), implications of reincarnation, references to the heartstring symphony card, this will hit different if you've read his anecdotes and myth stories, porn with feelings (if it wasn't obvious yet), first time, kissing and making out, slight dry humping, softdom!xavier, fingering, nipple play, vaginal sex, unprotected sex, creampie, slight cockwarming, soft sex, slight teasing, slight cursing, dirty talk, praise, use of pet name "angel", lmk if i missed any tags!!

sneaky link : pretty much a visual of what Goes On in this fic (for the most part) 🤭

wc : 4.2k+

There's no one else who knows you more than Xavier does, and he would prove it to you as many times as he needed to.

"Mmh..."

A soft sigh fell from your lips, shifting down to a pout as a he pulled away from you. "Why'd you stop?" You almost whined, and Xavier chuckled as he shook his head. In response, he only trailed his lips down your jawline; soft, fluttering, barely-there kisses all over your face if only to soothe you for the time being.

"It's late, you know..." He mumbled against your skin, feeling you shudder under his touch.

"But, Xavier...!"

You could feel the grin fighting its way onto his lips at your little complaints, and he moved back up, level with your eyes. But contrary to the tease in his actions, his eyes remained gentle. Soft, like every fibre of his being, and full of so, so much love and adoration. Feelings, you knew, that were only ever reserved for you.

"You're really not sleepy yet?" He ran his fingers through your hair, watching the way your locks would fall gently from his hands, almost as if soothed by the very sight. The contrast in his actions now compared to the way he'd kissed you moments prior only messed with your head, but as always, you found it hard to resist the almost puppy-like gaze he would give you in times like this.

This time it was you who shook your head, a failed attempt to hide the smile that was threatening to peek through. "Are you? I wanna stay up with you a bit longer."

"Well... You've already stayed awake with me the whole night," he chuckled, placing a kiss on the tip of your nose as he pressed his forehead against yours. There was a hint of playfulness in the twinkle of his eyes, and you huffed—

"But not with you," you protested. "Fighting Wanderers with you hardly counts. And then you'll go off again somewhere in the morning..."

Your voice trailed off, and something in your words made his expression change in the slightest.

"Okay," he said, after a moment. Another kiss on your nose, arm moving back over your waist to pull you close. "But, are you... Having those thoughts again?"

"...No, I just..." His gaze never left yours, but you turned your eyes downwards, instead snuggling into his embrace. The way you couldn't complete your sentence spoke volumes, and it was almost as if you weren't bothering to hide it in the slightest.

"Sometimes, you're not very good at lying."

With a sigh, Xavier shifted to guide your chin upwards as if to get you to look at him. "I'm sorry, angel."

You would never tire of how expressive his eyes were.

The way they would widen, ever so slightly, in an almost pleading manner when he knew you were upset— The way they would dance with yours in a fondness so pure, and so loving. You had always thought he never quite knew how to express himself with you, having never been the type to say so many words at once. But by now, you knew, his eyes communicated far more than you'd have ever needed.

"You always say it won't happen again, Xavier, but... You always leave."

"...I know."

His voice became barely a whisper, and you didn't miss the way his eyes dropped momentarily to your lips.

"...And when you get back, sometimes you're still injured..."

"...I know."

You let out a breath, reaching out this time to brush the hair out of his face. "So... Won't you kiss me more?"

You watched as a smile slowly made its way to his features, and he moved closer, closer, lips just barely ghosting yours as his voice seemed to drop an octave lower. "Will that make it up to you?"

"Maybe. If you do it enough times to make up for your absence."

His gaze flicked from your eyes to your lips, taking in every bit of you as your lips parted for him, expectant and wanting. Then, he took it rightfully as your invitation for a little more, and his lips were back on yours immediately, captured in the most tender of kisses that had you melting in his arms.

Elsewhere, his hand trailed over the curve of your back in a sweet, loving caress that had you leaning into him for more, and the shift of the corners of his mouth made it known to you that he knew. You caught the slightest taste of cherry as he moved his lips against yours, as soft as velvet, perfectly in sync as if he'd always known exactly how they would move in the first place.

There was no one else who knew you better than Xavier did, and this was no exception. Not with the way he was keen on getting you all worked up like this, deep, and slow, and barely giving you the chance to breathe before diving back in.

In seconds, his bright blue eyes had yours enraptured, swirling with barely contained mirth as he sucked at your bottom lip, tongue lapping over the swollen flesh before gently biting down.

And, oh, he drove you insane.

Unrelenting, your whimpers remained swallowed into his movements, and the tease in his eyes became more evident. Soft, quiet smacking noises resounded in the room as the kisses became more passionate, your arms wrapping around his neck, slipping out a moan as he gently pushed his tongue inside to meet yours.

Your legs moved to entangle with his, nearly wrapping around his waist—

And then he stopped.

Panting, he pulled away from you yet again, a delicate thread of saliva connecting your parted lips.

"Xavier..." You whined, leaning forward as if to chase the same feeling.

But he placed a finger to your temple and shook his head. "We... Should stop."

"But—! You can't just—"

"Angel."

His tone was one of warning; one he would barely ever use with you if not to keep you in place.

Were you crossing a line...?

You fell silent within moments, but the indignance in your gaze lingered longer than you should have let it. Your disappointment could not have been more evident, and he sighed, taking your hand and guiding it downwards—

Oh.

"I have my limits, too, you know? Any further than this, and I can't promise I'll still be acting with your best interests in mind." With a small smile, he shifted just a bit closer to place another chaste kiss on the tip of your nose, as if in reconciliation. "Won't you be gentle with me?"

You couldn't understand him.

How he was so kind yet teasing; so considerate yet so infuriating. It sent an instant jolt of warmth down to your very core, and even you were not oblivious to the wetness that had pooled between your thighs.

A test; a dare—you wrapped your legs around him and shifted, brushing against his erection and relishing in the quiet groan that fell from his lips.

Xavier's hand gripped yours tightly, and he shook his head once more. "Angel, please," he whispered. "We should only be doing this when you're ready..."

"...And if I am?"

Another roll of your hips, pressing closer against him, and he dipped his head down, grip on your hand tightening as he tried desperately to exercise what little restraint he had left. His gaze moved upwards, pleading. He wouldn't dare to speak, not when he couldn't trust the noises that would fall from his mouth if he did—

But as always, his eyes would speak volumes.

Your gaze softened, this time being your turn to cup his cheeks into a quick peck. "Can I have you?" You mumbled, quietly, searching his eyes. "Here. Now."

You watched as his breath caught in his throat, recognition passing in his eyes as he realized the weight of your words, and the tenderness in your touch. "Is this what you really want?" He was breathless when he spoke, inching closer to you once more, almost as if in disbelief of your words.

And perhaps you, too, were at a momentary loss for words.

Xavier—sweet, loving, patient Xavier... How he would never force you into doing things you wouldn't want, how he would never failingly wait to hear your consent before daring to breach another boundary. This had always been the furthest you both had gone. Still scared to take the next step, it was always you who would withdraw, never testing the line that was drawn yourself.

But, somehow, now was different.

Be it the desperation you had to keep him by your side, or the want that had bore itself in front of you from all that you had been doing just now—the fact, then, was that you'd never felt more safe, and loved, and cherished, than in his arms.

Tonight, you would let him know that.

So your heart thrummed loudly in your chest... And you nodded.

Shyly, your gaze moved away from him, hands drifting to play with the fabric of his hoodie. "I'm... Not being too greedy tonight, am I? By saying yes?" You mumbled softly. "I just... Why does it feel like this, Xavier? Like I've known you my whole life."

He remained silent as you spoke, only stroking the side of your arm in reassurance.

"All this time, I think... I've only been scared. Of diving in headfirst; of giving you my everything when I feel that there's still so much of you that I don't know, so much of you that you won't... tell me." You looked up, noting the reflection of your figure in his eyes. "And yet, you know me so well. Every little action, every little word... I could trust you with my life by now. And I have no choice but to melt into you like I have this entire time, like all I've ever known is to be... loved by you. Have we met before, Xavier? It feels like... Maybe, in another life, I've had you there with me, too."

His eyes softened, momentarily flashing with an inexplicable yearning that you couldn't quite place. And then he laced his hands with yours, gently shifting your positions to have you lying beneath him. "Yeah," he whispered, "that sounds like something I'd do." Tears sprung at your eyes with his words, and he traced them away, thumb rubbing against your cheek in the most tender of motions. "I would love you in every lifetime. And if you want me to prove it to you, then... Maybe you'll find out that it's me who's the greedy one."

With that, his lips were on your neck, hands roaming your body and relishing your soft gasps against the crown of his head. Lower, lower—in careful, deliberate motions, his fingers worked the buttons of your blouse to have you open and bare for him, teeth grazing the skin of your nape as you tilted your head with a quiet moan.

He let out a slow breath as he took in the sight of you, trailing his hands from your stomach up to your breasts. Your breath hitched as you watched, hands kneading your tits and his own eyes transfixed in the way they would mold into his hands, soft, supple, his.

"Xavier..." A quiet mumble of his name before he leaned in to take your nipple in his mouth, eyes wandering back up to meet yours. He didn't respond, but his lips almost seemed to twitch up into a smile.

The way he looked at you sent waves of pleasure to your core. Soft, innocent Xavier... Now, he held within him unbridled desire, his mouth wrapped around your sensitive nub, pulling and sucking, flicking and swirling his tongue against it before taking it back in. His pupils darkened in a way you've never seen them do before. There was a certain kind of lustful warmth shimmering within their depths, easily replacing that sleepy gaze you were much more used to seeing.

Then there was a soft "mmm" against your skin before he pulled back with a pop, reaching to roll your other nub between the pads of his fingers, allowing a smile to form on his features. A sharp intake of breath was all you could do to keep from melting underneath him.

"You're so pretty like this, angel," he leaned up to nuzzle against your neck, savoring your warmth. His actions eminated only a shred of lingering restraint, replaced instead by a brimming sense of urgency. He rut slowly up between your thighs, eliciting a whimper from your lips that he caught back into his own.

It was familiar; his lips against yours, already swollen from how much you had kissed just moments prior. But there was something in the way he kissed you now that had you shuddering under the weight of his want, an honest and open display of desperation for you, conveyed with each and every kiss.

Slowly, slowly, his hand edged downwards, slipping past the waistband of your shorts to gently palm at your clothed cunt—he sighed at the sound of your moans, leaning back once more as his eyes roamed over your body, nothing less than pleased.

"Beautiful, beautiful," he mumbled, seemingly mostly to himself as he dragged down the only restricting articles of clothing you had left. The cool air hitting the heat of your core made you shiver, and you immediately reached out for him in the face of your sudden exposure.

"Xavier..." You whined, feeling almost like prey under his gaze, gripping tightly onto his hoodie. But he kept you close, arms now on either side of your head as he leaned in, placing soft, fluttering kisses all over your jawline.

"It's alright," he murmured. "I've got you."

His shifted as his fingers ghosted lightly over your knee, slowly sliding up before snaking downwards in a repeated motion, prying you open little by little. Though meant to lull you into comfort, his touch left a trail of heat in its wake, and you whimpered, reaching out to place your hand on his cheek.

"Am I going too fast? Do you want to stop...?"

You were silent for a moment before shaking your head, hand falling back to rest on your side. "N-no, just... Nervous..."

Xavier softened at your honesty. "We'll go slowly. One step at a time. Do you trust me, angel?"

"Always, Xavier."

"Okay. I'll take care of you, warm you up. It'll feel so good, angel, I promise." His voice was low as he nibbled at your ear, shaky breaths hitting in warm exhales that rendered you speechless.

You trusted him; you meant it.

Even as you felt yourself jolt when he snaked his hand ever-so-close to your core; even as he swiped over your slit to gather your slick onto his finger, wet sounds reaching your ears and almost making you want to bury yourself alive. With your eyes locked desperately onto him, you couldn't see what he was doing, but the pleasure that raked through your body at even the slightest of his touches had you reeling—it felt embarrassing, almost, to have unfurled so easily beneath him.

But Xavier only chuckled.

"Good girl," he whispered, and a gasp fell from your lips that made him smile. "So wet for me. So easy for me to just... Slowly..."

You felt an almost alien intrusion into your cunt, long and slender, your mouth falling open in a frozen gasp.

"Feel good, angel?" He was attentive to you, watching your every reaction, making sure he kept his promise well. And when he glided his finger out only to press back in, he got the very answer he needed—a louder moan of his name, your hands immediately gripping the sheets beneath you. His eyes relaxed, the tips of his mouth curling up yet again with satisfaction, and he repeated the same motions: slow, gentle, delighting in the warmth of your walls around his finger.

"One more, angel. I'll need to stretch you out a little. Okay?"

Soft, soothing words against your ear guided you into his rhythm as he slipped in a second digit, fingers pumping in and out of you, curling ever so slightly to brush against a certain spot as if he knew exactly where it was from the start.

"Xavier— Xavier—" His actions drew out soft chants of his name, and he dipped his head down to suck on your neck, the sting from his bruising swirling in tandem with the feeling of his fingers stretching you out so deliciously.

"That's it, angel. What a good girl for me."

His thumb pressed on your clit, circling it a few times before moving back to rub against it, fingers still working inside of you pleasurably. Xavier hummed, mumbles of how wet you were and how tight you clenched around just his fingers—and then when you arched your back as if to ask for more, he pulled away with an incriminating schick that made you flush.

Slowly, he brought his fingers up to his mouth, closing his eyes with a moan as he sucked on them, savoring your taste. Your body burned at the sight, his words once again eliciting a soft whimper. He looked back at you with half-lidded eyes: "Mmh, next time," he murmured, "I'll definitely taste you properly."

Swallowing thickly under his gaze, you barely even processed his words, only allowing him to guide you in sliding down his clothing, a low groan resounding as his cock sprung free. Your eyes betrayed any attempts at staying calm; taking in the sight of him swollen and leaking, from all his attempts at self-control.

"Xavier..." you whispered, voice hushed, reaching out to touch him.

But he stopped you, hand on your wrist.

"No. If you touch me, I... I won't be able to please you..." His mouth turned down into a little pout, the familiar, puppy-like gaze making a momentary return before he gently moved your legs further apart, a hand on his base as he steadied himself above you. "Next time. There'll be plenty of opportunities like this in the future, and I promise you can have your way with me then."

Next time.

The thought of repeating another night of pleasure with him made you shiver with giddy excitement, even as he teased the tip of his cock at your entrance.

"It might hurt a little..." He reached over to stroke the side of your face, concern ridden in his eyes even though the flush of pleasure was evident at the tips of his ears. "So tell me if you need me to stop. Okay?"

Carefully, the head of his cock finally pushed its way in, slowly sheathing itself inside of you.

"Aa-ahh...!"

A broken cry left your lips before you could stop it, clenching immediately around his length, and Xavier gently thumbed at your cheeks.

"Shh, shh, it's okay, it's okay. I've got you."

Soft whispers over your lips as he gradually eased himself in, your walls sucking around him and taking him bit by bit. The sting of it was unimaginable; the burn against your walls foreign enough to bring tears to your eyes. But when he bottomed out inside of you, his entire body pressed against yours—immediately, Xavier was kissing all over your face, drawing soothing shapes into your skin if only to distract you, unable to hide the concern that lingered in his eyes. "Are you okay, angel? Is it bad? You're really tight around me right now..."

All you could do was nod as he kissed your tears away, whimpers falling from your lips as you tried to relax your breathing.

Yet, you could feel, it wasn't quite that it hurt—the pain would fade into numbness, a feeling of being full—but your tears rolled down your cheeks as you looked at him, knowing he was finally, finally, as close as he could be.

"Hey, hey... What's wrong, angel? You're doing so well... You take me so well, angel, why are you crying?" You could hear his concern melting into a twinge of sadness, pressing his forehead against yours and searching your eyes for an answer of his own. "Does it still hurt? I'm sorry... Just a few moments, angel. I promise, I'll make you feel so, so good... Really good, angel, I swear..."

But you shook your head. Sniffling, willing yourself to stop crying, you reached up to put your arms around his neck. "No, Xavier, I'm just... Happy."

His expression changed, eyes widening slightly.

"How else can I say it...? It's always felt like there's no other place I could be safer than with you. And now, I... I have you."

You buried your face into his neck, taking several deep breaths. "I love you. So much. More than you could think, more than you could know. A-and, I'm just—happy. To give myself to you. Like... like this..."

You felt him swallow thickly at your words, his cock twitching inside of you as you felt the brunt of the effects you truly had on him. Gently, he lifted up your head, warmth, and love, and longing in his eyes that immediately swallowed you whole. "I love you, too," he whispered. "I always have. I always will."

Wiping the rest of your tears away with a soft smile, he placed another quick kiss on your lips. "May I?"

And you nodded.

Slowly, you felt his cock slide out of your wetness, the feeling of his length rubbing against your walls having you draw out a shaky breath. And then he thrust all the way back in—again. And again. And again.

Soon, his cock was thrusting in and out of your sopping wet pussy at a soft pace, hips moving against yours as he pressed against you, his lips at your shoulder dropping out soft, hushed moans of your name.

"Fuck," he cursed, shifting to bury his head into your chest as he shuddered, hot breath fanning over the curve of your breasts. "I've wanted this... For so long—"

“X-Xavie— ah—hn—”

You moaned in tandem, feeling completely at his mercy. In all that he was, he was gentle with you—soft, sultry rolls of his hips against yours, your fingers gently laced together as he brought them up to either side of your head, holding you in place enough to steady himself.

And yet, all you could do was melt.

When he raised his head to look at you once more, his hair fell over his face, silvery strands wet and sticky with sweat. You caved under this gaze of his—so vulnerable and exposed, yet the safest you had ever been, here in the warmth radiating off of your bodies as he claimed you. "So good, angel," he breathed, angling perfectly for his tip to brush against the spongy spot on your walls, just as if he had your pussy completely memorized.

In response, breathless pants fell from your lips, and you wrapped your legs around his waist, locking him in place. You could relish the way his moans tangled with yours, his thrusts deep and filling, the slight, rhythmic creaking of your bed a testament to your passionate intimacy.

"Xavier," you whispered, "Xavier, Xavier, Xavier—"

He chuckled, lightly, and then when he kissed you next, releasing your hands in favor of cupping your face, entangling his fingers in your hair—the both of you were far too caught up in each other to bother. The plush fabric of his hoodie pressed warmly against your exposed chest. Tongue met tongue in a sloppy exchange of excess saliva, hushed moans melting between your lips... The squelch of your cunt and the soft pap, pap, pap of his skin against yours filled the room. Like this, you could barely bring yourself to conjure any thoughts that weren't just Xavier, Xavier, Xavier.

"...Tight," he gasped, parting from your lips as his eyes trailed down your body, lingering over where the two of you were connected. There was a white, milky ring around the base of his cock as he watched it disappear, time and time again, into the greedy walls of your pussy. "You're squeezing me... Tighter, and tighter— Fuck—"

You watched as his eyes closed, as if willing to control himself despite his length snugly wrapped into your heat. His breathing molded into sharp huffs, and you clawed at his back in raw pleasure, fisting into the soft clothing, desperate to pull him closer than close—as close as you possibly could be.

"I-I think..." You struggled to find words as you buried your head into his hair, taking in the scent of his sweat, his shampoo, and him.

"Mmh... Close?" Xavier thrust into you deeply, and the whimper you emitted served as enough proof. "It's alright. Cum for me, angel."

His words and the way he held you flush against his body sent you spiraling, vision blanking as you froze, legs in the air, a long, drawn-out moan of his name the last on your lips before all else was reduced to rapid breaths.

Immediately, your pussy clenched tight around him as he continued to pump inside of you, his own soft, rhythmic strokes becoming more erratic, more harsh. The sensitivity had you whining, but before you could dare to speak, he pulled you in and kissed you deeply, moaning loudly into your mouth.

You could feel it—your insides painted white, hot spurts of his cum hitting your walls, movements gradually stilling to a stop.

For a moment, the two of you stayed still, your legs relaxing enough to fall back over his waist, keeping him warm inside of you as you caught your breaths in silence.

You felt soft sighs into your hair as he tucked you under his chin—"...I love you," he murmured.

He nuzzled into your locks.

"And I'm... Sorry. That I disappear a lot. That I go places without telling you. I... don't want to disappoint you, so..."

You shifted, looking at him with a pout. "Please don't promise me something you won't be able to keep..."

"...I know. But I'm saying... I'll do my best. Not to make you worry. And I'll return home safe and sound, and you'll... You'll have me. You'll always have me. Okay, angel?"

A smile played at your lips. "Okay."

"For now, let's... get you cleaned up."

『 Have we met before? Maybe in another time I loved you; maybe you're the one that I would run to, don't know why it's all a blur. I think I know you... 』

⁺₊ / an: happy valentines !!!!!! the basis of this is that if xavier waited for us throughout multiple timelines... then him knowing us like the back of his hand should also apply to this context, no? i think it can't be more obvious than this just how much love i have for xavier... little pookie... he deserves the world...

++requests are open! ask away, lovelies 💕

© rose-tinted-kalopsia. all rights reserved. do not: steal, copy, repost, reupload, modify, or claim any of my works as your own, regardless of credit given. absolutely do not use my works for AI training and other related purposes.

[simphornies]

Could I have it's fine if not

A vox x reader where shes his secretary?

A/N: Your wish is my command, <3 This was fun to write. I definitely headcanon Vox as someone that would fluster easily because he's just constantly around the Vees so being around somebody else that he isn't trying to hypnotize or boss around is new territory for him. Enjoy a flustered Vox. Definitely let me know if you'd like a part 2. I love subjecting him to this in my stories.

Word count: 2.9k words (2,948)

Breathtaking [ Vox x Secretary!Reader ]

The moment Vox saw you standing in front of him in his office, he immediately took notice of your curves. The way your uniform hugged every inch of you nicely. He didn't want to admit that you are Velvette's top model. Not that random bitch Valentino tore up in his fit of rage.

Your intelligence. Your charisma. Your hunger for power. He watched you ever since you demanded to work in his company. He took note of every quirk you have, replaying everything you've done throughout the day just in case he missed something.

When he saw that you were getting approached by Valentino, something boiled inside of him. He didn't want him to have your soul and body. Hell. Your body. He wanted you all to himself. No contracts. No deals. But there's one problem. He has no idea how to approach you. Like at all.

"C'mon darling~" Valentino plays with your hair, "I promise I can make you a star. Imagine it, you and Angel Dust. Side by side. You'll make so much money you won't even know what to do with it!" He breathes out his red smoke, surrounding you both. You could only see his eyes glowing behind it. "Don't run away, babe. Make a deal with me." He grins as his voice echoes around you.

You were about to try and fight for your life against an overlord until the smoke clears out with a zap. You feel the electricity crackling in the air. An arm wraps around your waist, pulling you into them. It was Vox.

"Valentino!" He smiles, "I see you've met my new personal assistant." Val scoffs, a little upset that he got first pick. You weren't entirely aware that you got boosted up to being an assistant but hey. You'd rather that than be a pornstar.

"You never told me this little princesa's your assistant. When did that start?" He whined.

"It started now. I told you I've been watching one of our..." He chuckles, trying to find the right words as to not expose him basically watching you, "...newest recruits."

Valentino almost chokes on his smoke, offended at the lie he just spat out. "Well I need that gorgeous body on set." He lifts up your chin with a finger, taunting you.

Vox moves you behind him before putting his arm around Val, his voice distorting a bit, "Val Val Val..." He chuckled, "You can have any other woman we can reach." They start walking a little bit out of ear shot for you. "I want this one. Got it?" He flashed his hyponitizing eye into his unaffected fellow overlord.

Valentino rolled his eyes and raises his hands up in defeat, "Fine. Fine. Take her." He scoffs, "But as soon as she's gone from your hands. She'll be mine." He chuckled.

"Fucking asshole." You hissed under your breath, secretly hoping he didn't hear it because you're kinda scared of him.

"Well, well. Nice to finally meet you." Vox pivots on his heel to face you, "I'm sure you've heard of me, HA! Who hasn't? The name's Vox." He extends his hand out to you, "And you, my dear, are?"

You take his hand to shake it, "I'm Y/N. I've been watching your work ever since I fell into hell and I've been doing my absolute best to finally get a chance to speak with you! I have so much to say and every time I try to get a meeting set up and-" You rambled before getting cut off by Vox pulling you closer to him as he grinned in delight. "My my. You have a lot to say there, doll. Why don't we go into my office so we can have a real meeting."

You get a bit flustered with your blabbering. "Ah. Yes. Apologies. I was just-" You take a deep breath, "Thank you. For saving me back there."

Vox chuckles a bit and teleports the two of you into his office, leaning into his folded hands. You felt the static all over your skin, your hair floating a bit in certain parts. He walks around his desk and plops down on his chair. You fix yourself up and sit across from him.

"So, Y/N, what were you saying earlier?"

"I want to be yours." You blurt out. Vox blinks, his smile faltered a bit.

"Excuse me?"

"I MEAN-" You clear your throat, "I want to be your assistant. I want to work for you. Under you. I am not afraid to get my hands dirty if it means you rise up in strength as the overlord of this city." If there was anything you can do right, it's killing. And blurting out the wrong things.

Vox chuckled in amusement, "Alright dollface, let's see what you can do." He grins, holding his hand out for you to shake. You shake it with eager delight. ------------------ It's been almost a year since you've begun your work as Vox's personal assistant and it's safe to say that his admiration for you grew over time. You were now next to him at all times. Even though you were his assistant, he was at you beck and call. You honestly didn't expect this behavior out of the powerful demon, but you weren't entirely opposed to it.

"Y/N. Pull up the statistics for the lowest earners this month." Vox states, stress oozing out of his words.

"Yes sir." You nod, directly transporting what he had asked for into the screen in front of him.

"I told you to call me Vox." He groans before cracking his neck, flicking through the screen to note down the employees that haven't met anywhere near the required quota. You take note his stiffness, specifically in his left shoulder. 'He must be working overnight again.' You thought to yourself.

You walk up behind him, gently massaging his shoulders. He flinches slightly from the sudden physical contact. "Wh-what are you doing?" He glitched a bit, hoping you didn't catch that.

"You stayed up overnight again, didn't you?" You sigh, "Sir, you need to take better care of yourself. You may be a powerful overlord but your wits will lose its touch if you don't get the proper rest you need." You work your fingers to massage the knot out of his shoulders as he slowly melted into you touch.

He groans a bit in pleasure, "I-" He started to protest but cut him off before deciding not too. "Whatever. Work your magic. You're good at that with me." He leans further back into his seat as he shuts his eyes, giving into your massage, "And call me Vox!"

You smile, looking down at him, "If you insist," You lean down, whispering into the side of his head, presumably where his ears would be, "Vox."

He was lost in your massage before the sound of his name slips out of your lips, causing his eyes to dart open. "You said my na-" He froze as soon as he turned to face you. Your face was so close to his screen. His face lit up as he slowly starting to buffer.

You grinned at his flustered state, "Sorry. Too close?" You pull yourself back and finally got that knot out of his shoulder. "How come you only have that stubborn knot on your left side?" You thought it strange that it was only on the left. You moved your hands off of the frozen overlord in front of you before shifting over to where he was facing, lightly tapping on his screen.

The taps got him out of his buffered state. He was flustered with you catching him so off guard like that. "No." He coughed, "Just caught me off guard is all." He brings back his signature grin as he looked up at you. "Now what was that question again? Something about a side?"

You roll your eyes, "Your shoulder. The knot I got out was only on the left side. What in the seven rings could you be doing with just that side of you? You arm wrestle Velvette or something?" You state, "You know, I did try that once. She beat me with such ease I never dared to try it again. Valentino just kept trying to lick my arm."

You continued to ramble as he sat and realized why. You haven't left his mind, or his screens, for the last couple of months. He couldn't tell you he's been busy jacking it off to the thought of you sharing his bed with him every night. He couldn't tell you that he wished you were there every time he woke up.

"Ahhh. Yeah! Yeah. Such a bitch to beat." He laughs nervously before quickly getting up, "Well enough of that. Thank you, doll, for the massage. Now, it's almost been a year since you've been by my side and I believe I owe you a treat." He smiled brightly, taking your hand in his, "How about we both the rest of the day off? Let me treat you to a nice restaurant as a...thanks. For your hard work."

Your fingers tapped against the back of his hand, "So...like a date?"

And he glitches again, "No! I mean-pff-what. Nahhhh. That's not-" He stutters, "No! No. I would never-"

His instant denial made your head, and heart, drop a bit in disappointment. You've grown to like him, more than just a close friend and ally. It seems that he took notice of your disappointment as he stopped his ranting to lift your chin up with his free hand.

"Look, just. Get ready. Look pretty! Get Velvette to help you with an outfit if need be. Tell her I sent you. And meet me outside in an hour." He reassures you, "I have quite the surprise for you, Y/N. You know I never disappoint."

"Okay, Vox." You manage a smile, holding his hand tighter. "I'll see you in an hour." You walk towards the door and head straight to Velvette.

Vox puts on his best suit and bowtie. Not allowing a single piece of garment out of place. He waited by the entrance of his building a little bit earlier than the discussed time, eagerly waiting your arrival. Before he knew it he was swamped with reporters, bombarding him with questions regarding the change in the extermination date. He easily answers the questions with his idea of "VoxTek Angelic Security" or so he calls it. He totally just pulled that one out of his ass. He hypnotized the crowd to keep them at bay. As soon as he did, you exit the nearest elevator.

He turned at the sound of heels clacking behind him. You wore a beautiful black dress with red accents that wrapped around your body nicely, hugging your every curve. The drop of your dress went a little bit too low for your liking, straight down from your chest to under your bust, but Velvette insisted that the fashion tape she put on it will prevent any accidental spillage. A slit that revealed the red and blue garter you wore on your thigh that resembled cables. Your hair was curled, half up and half down, falling nicely on your shoulders. On your ears were jewelry that matched the antennas on his signature hat.

The sight of you took all the air out of him, you were stunning in his eyes. "My..." He mumbled to himself as he walks towards you. "You look..."

"Silly, right? I told Velvette she didn't have to go all out. That I was just going out for a meeting with you to celebrate our first year working together." You sigh, looking up at him with a worried look, "If you don't like it, I can quickly change."

Vox couldn't help but snake his hand around your waist, "You look stunning." He grinned, "I can't wait to walk into the finest restaurant in Pentagram City with you by my side." He led you out into the limo waiting, "You're going to break necks with how fast they're going to turn at the sight of you, Y/N."

You blush a bit at his flattery, the makeup you wore barely hiding it. He held the door open for you. You thanked him as you sat inside.

The whole ride there was a test of self-control for Vox. He wanted to hold you in his arms. His heart was pounding loudly in his chest, so much so that he swears you could hear it at this point.

You peek out the windows next to Vox. You thought the lights were beautiful, nothing like what they have on Earth. You were captivated by the lights and he took quick notice of you shifting. You scoot closer to him, trying to get a closer look out the window on his side. "The lights are wonderful here, Vox." You smile, taking in the sights.

You place a hand on his thigh, causing him to blush intensely, leaning over him. "If I were to ask you of anything, I'd love to have neon lights in my room." You look up at him, "If you permit it."

He gave himself a mental pat on the back with how quickly he composed himself. Vox places a hand around your waist, "I will give you anything in my power at your asking." He hypes himself up to finally ask you out to be more than just his secretary. More than just his friend. "If you permit, will you consider this as my first attempt in courting you, dear?"

Your face quickly turned red at the sudden turn on events. You lean back, taking your hand off of his thigh. You attempted to back up but his firm grip on your waist stops you, if anything, he pulls you close to his chest. You blinked at him in disbelief, "I-Of course. I shall. I'm honored at to have your attention."

"Love, you've caught my attention since you arrived in hell." He confessed. Before he could continue, the ride slows to a stop as you both arrive at your destination. "Now, shall we?"

You step out of the limo, hand in Vox's as he assists you, careful to not allow you to trip. "I've gotten us our own private dining room here. Somewhere we can speak freely without anybody listening in on our conversation." He leads you into the restaurant, his words earlier still replaying in your head. 'Is this really a date? A date with Vox?' You thought to yourself.

He pulls out the chair for you before seating himself. He sits across from you, propping up his head on the table with his hand. He chugs the bottle of rum on your table to ease his nerves. A couple gulps in, he was ready to talk. "May I confess something to you, Y/N?" He smiles.

"Yes. Of course. Anything, Vox."

"You drive me crazy." He starts, "You're double drop dead gorgeous. If anything is an honor, it's to have you here in hell as my date. These last few months have been my equivalent of heaven."

You fluster at his words, turning red at the compliments. "Y/N, if I may be so bold. I have fallen for you. You're in my mind, always. Your gaze recharges me as much as it short circuits my system."

He gets up to move his chair right next to you, "My dear, I know I just said for you to consider this as me courting you." He holds your hand in his, "But if I'm going to be honest, I don't think I'd be able to handle keeping my hands off of you for tonight. You're absolutely breathtaking."

In response, you finish off what was left in the bottle he drank out off to ease your nerves. The alcohol flushed your face more than it already was from his confession. "Vox. May I be so bold as to speak my truth in return?"

He gulps down his nerves, a bit on edge. "Yes. You know you're always allowed to speak your mind around me."

"Pardon me, then."

"Pardon you for wh-"

You throw yourself on him, kissing him with passion. His hands instinctively wrap around your waist, closing the gap in between your bodies. You shift to sit on his lap, lacking the shame a normal person, probably not in hell, would have in a high rated restaurant. You wrapped your arms around his neck, leaning into him. You feel his tongue enter your mouth, taking control of yours. He relished your taste. What felt like hours in each others' hold, you finally pull away for air. You gasp and pant, looking into his eyes.

"I've worked as hard as I did, climbed the ranks and dirtied my hands to catch your attention the moment I learned of you. I absolutely adore your mind. Working with you solidified that." You smile sweetly at him, enjoying the shock in his eyes. "I'd love for you to keep your hands on me all night." You winked, "Take that how you will."

You hop off of him, returning to your seat. You sigh contently, holding his hand in yours.

"3..." You count down. Sparks fly from the back of his head.

"2..." You turn to him, his screen was flashing all types of errors now.

"And 1."

His excitement, shock and happiness absolutely drained the city of its power. You giggle and rest your head on his shoulder, waiting for him and the city to properly boot back up. If he unfortunately forgets, you'll just repeat it again for him to remember.

[roosterforme]

The Younger Kind Part 24 | Rooster x Reader

Summary: When you and Bradley put some pieces of the puzzle together, you realize it was a blessing in disguise that you ran into Meredith. But in the early hours of Wednesday morning, Bradley is hanging on by a thread. How could anyone try to take Noah away from him?

Warnings: Angst, swearing, fluff, and age gap (18+)

Length: 4000 words

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

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

Bradley strolled out of work with Nat hot on his heels. "She's picking you up?" she asked, clearly surprised by the turn of events over the past few days. When Bradley saw you leaning against the Bronco in the parking lot, Nat gasped. "You let her drive your Bronco?"

"Yeah, I trust her," he replied, taking off at a faster pace to get to you. The expression on your face had him a little worried, and you looked tired, but he was so happy to see you. Because he'd been anxious all day.

"Hi, Natasha," you called out, waving past Bradley as he scooped you up in a hug. "And hi, Daddy," you whispered, next to his ear as he held you.

"Hi, Baby," he sighed, kissing your glossy lips. "I missed you. Did you have a good day?"

You sucked in a deep breath, but then Nat was there, and the two of you were chatting. But your face was pinched and agitated instead of smooth and perfect, and you were playing with your hands nervously. Bradley let you talk to Nat for a few more minutes, and then he softly kissed the top of your head. 

"Don't want to be late to pick Noah up," he told you, and then he gave Nat a hug and took the keys when you held them up for him. "You gonna tell me what's wrong?" he asked as he put the Bronco in gear.

"Why do you think something's wrong?" you asked casually, reaching for his hand. 

"I can tell something's bothering you, Princess. But I'm assuming since you just grabbed my hand that you're not upset with me.

There was a brief pause before you said, "I saw Meredith when I went grocery shopping this morning."

Bradley nearly swerved off the road. "This morning? You saw her this morning, and you're just telling me about it now?" he glanced your way briefly. What happened? Did you get hurt?"

"I'm fine, Bradley." You squeezed his hand and pulled it to your lips, pressing a soft kiss to his thumb. "I'm perfectly fine."

"I swear, she's trying to ruin my life," he growled. "Won't leave me alone. Thinks it's okay to go after you. I'm afraid I'm going to fucking lose it in the courtroom when I see her tomorrow."

"Bradley, let's just go home and have a nice dinner, and then we can talk about it in a few hours after Noah is in bed, okay? You need to stay calm."

But that proved impossible. Bradley watched you with his son, just as patient as ever. You alternated between making dinner and coloring with him while Bradley silently panicked. He had no idea how he could give this up. Even looking at Noah right now was painful for him. And when Noah asked him to get all three of the paper crowns, Bradley actually started crying.

"Sure, bub. Come help me find yours." Noah took Bradley by the hand and led him down the hallway to his bedroom. 

"It's in here, Daddy," he said, reaching for the yellow crown on his dresser and putting it on his own head before giving the bigger green one to Bradley. "Let's get the purple one for Princess." 

Noah climbed up on Bradley's bed, but he still couldn't reach it. Bradley pulled it down and handed it to his son. "Why don't you give it to her, but only if she's not trying to cook dinner, okay?" It was hard to speak with the lump in his throat as Bradley carried his son back into the kitchen. He had his nose buried in Noah's soft hair, inhaling his scent and holding back tears. "I love you," he whispered as Noah handed you the purple crown.

"Oh, are we all matching tonight?" you asked with a soft laugh. But your smile didn't quite reach your eyes as you looked at Bradley. 

"Yep!" Noah said as you slipped your crown onto your head. 

And then dinner was mostly silent. And if you thought it was strange that Bradley held Noah on his lap the entire time, you didn't say anything. The night was going too quickly. Bradley had spent weeks trying not to think about this day, but now here it was, and it was worse than he could have ever imagined. He could barely stomach the food you made even though it was perfect. 

"It's going to be okay," you whispered across the table. 

"How do you know that?" he asked in response. "How do you know this isn't the last night I get to do this?" Bradley kissed Noah's cheek and took a deep breath to calm his nerves.

You stayed silent after that, only whispering something sweet to Noah before you said goodnight to him. Then you let Bradley have some privacy to give Noah a bath and get him dressed for bed. He read seven books to Noah, and he was already asleep by the end of the last one. But he stayed on his knees next to the bed, brushing Noah's curls softly back from his forehead and kissing him a million times.

"I love you," he said, tears filling his eyes as he wandered back out into the hallway. You were cleaning up the kitchen, but when he found himself in the doorway, you gathered him into your arms.

"It's hitting you hard, I can tell," you told him, and Bradley didn't care if you saw him crying.

"I just feel like... all of this shit is beyond my control. I can only do my best. But that's still not good enough to ensure I get to raise my son, which is completely fucked up."

You guided him to one of the chairs and then climbed onto his lap. Your voice was so soft, Bradley could barely hear you. "I just don't see how anyone could take him away from you."

"Do you have any idea how often judges side with mothers over fathers? It's so unsettling, I don't even want to think about it right now."

You tightened your grip on him. "Then let's think about something else."

"I still can't believe Meredith was at the grocery store this morning," he groaned, rubbing his face.

You were quiet for a few minutes, and then you looked at him with your pretty face scrunched in frustration. "She said the strangest things to me."

Bradley was on high alert now. "What? What did she say?"

"Well, she made a comment about how your car is worth a lot of money."

"It's a Bronco, Princess. Not a car." He realized this was the first time he'd really smiled in hours, and it felt good. 

"Yes, I'm so sorry. She mentioned that your Bronco was worth a lot, and she said she was surprised you let me drive it."

He rolled his eyes. "Just because I never let her touch it doesn't mean you can't. She used to wreck up her little sports cars annually and then buy a new one. Doesn't appreciate the classics like you do." Bradley kissed your shoulder and listened to you sigh. "But I guess it's kind of odd that she said that to you. And honestly, I have no idea how much the Bronco is worth. Maybe like sixty thousand? I try to keep her running nice."

You scoffed at him, and then Bradley could practically see the wheels turning in your head. "I looked it up against your VIN number. In pristine condition, your Bronco is worth almost one hundred and fifty thousand dollars."

"It is?" he asked, completely shocked.

"It is," you confirmed. "You didn't know that?"

"No," he said, shaking his head.

"Meredith also mentioned some life insurance money?" you said a little reluctantly. "In an account for Noah?" He watched your eyes go wide as you quickly added, "I'm not trying to pry, and we don't need to talk about it-"

"From my mom," he replied, kissing you softly to let you know it was okay to talk about it. "I have my mom's huge life insurance payout. I never touched a cent, because it was too depressing. After Noah was born, I decided to save it for him. He can use it for college or for a house or.... I don't know, he can sail a fucking yacht around the world with it or something. But it's for him."

You gasped and said, "Bradley, I think Meredith just wants your money."

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

You watched him slowly shake his head as you scrambled off his lap and went to go get his computer from where you left it charging in the living room. When you brought it back to the kitchen, Bradley said, "Princess, she makes more money than I do. I just don't see how that could be the case. You should see where she lives in Oceanside. It looks like a mansion."

"No," she replied, opening up the tabs she had saved. "She doesn't live in Oceanside any longer."

"How do you know that?" he asked, wrapping his arms around you as you sat perched on his thigh.

You pulled up some property records you had found when you searched Meredith's name earlier. "She went into foreclosure last year and had to sell. She lives in an apartment in San Diego now."

You looked at Bradley over your shoulder, but he was completely silent now.

"What was the name of her company?" you asked, turning back to the computer.

"Coastal Business Development," he said quietly. And a shiver ran through your body. You had been correct in what you found. But now you kept opening tab after tab as he sat there with you. More new information was popping up left and right. She had tried to hide her name by using an LLC, but Bradley knew enough of the missing pieces to help you put it all together.

"She's bankrupt," you whispered, and he gently pushed your hand out of the way to open one last tab himself. You skimmed the court documents and said, "It sounds like she married her business partner, and he left her high and dry."

"Damn," Bradley gasped, going back through each tab about Meredith's real estate foreclosure, business bankruptcies, and personal interviews. You tried to push the computer away, but Bradley kept going back to the same tab, and now he wouldn't even let you minimize it.

"Don't read it," you whispered, pulling his hand away and turning to look at him.

His eyes were void of emotion now as he looked at you. "She was quoted saying she doesn't have any children."

"She doesn't," you insisted, taking his face in your hands. "Not really. But you do. Noah is your son, Bradley."

He let his forehead come to rest on your shoulder, but a minute later, his phone was ringing in his pocket.

"It's probably Nat," he said, shaking his head. "I can't talk to anyone else right now."

He handed you his phone, but you looked at the name and said, "I think you should answer. It's your lawyer."

"Tracy," he grunted, holding the phone up to his face and closing his eyes. You tried to slip off of his lap after a moment, but he held you in place. And then his tone sounded sharp and angry as he scrambled to put the call on speakerphone. "Can you please repeat that last part?"

You heard Tracy's voice clearly say, "You remember how I told you Meredith was in breach of contract with her lawyer? Well, she never paid the law firm. Not a cent. The firm dropped her at the last minute when her funds never materialized. I just found out today. Do you know if she has any sort of history of financial mishaps?"

"Yes!" you said before you could consider if Bradley wanted Tracy to know you were there with him.

Tracy was quiet for a beat. "Are you at home? I'll come to you."

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

When Tracy arrived after ten o'clock on Tuesday night, Bradley was practically having a nervous breakdown. The hearing was tomorrow. He and Noah were supposed to be at the courthouse in twelve hours. He felt like he was going to throw up.

But at least you were there, touching his hands and his shoulders and trying to make him feel better. You actually were helping him feel better. And then Tracy was in his kitchen with a huge bag, wearing gym clothes and eyeing you a little suspiciously.

Then she looked at Bradley and said, "Ignoring my legal advice, I see."

He sighed deeply. "Tracy, this is my babysitter turned girlfriend."

"Do not call her that tomorrow in the courtroom under any circumstances!" she said hastily. "Promise me, Bradley! I don't want us to end up looking like a pack of idiots when you point her out as your girlfriend."

"Wait..." you said, eyes wide. "You want me there tomorrow?"

"Yes," Tracy said, unloading folders onto the kitchen table along with her computer and a protein shake. "I already have a call in with the judge to have you added as a character witness. So be prepared to answer questions and give a statement if called upon."

"That's too much to ask," Bradley mumbled looking from Tracy to you. "I can't ask you to do that."

You looked at him like he was very slow and maybe a little naive. "You didn't ask me to. Tracy just told me I was. And I want to. If there's a chance I can do anything that might help, I'm doing it."

Bradley pinched the bridge of his nose and tried not to panic too much as you and he showed Tracy what'd you had found online. "Fucking hell," Tracy muttered, scribbling down notes. "I didn't know this was going to turn into a criminal hearing, but here we are." She scrolled through the property records and matched up tax identification numbers, taking everything a step beyond what you and Bradley had been able to do.

"A criminal hearing?" Bradley asked cautiously, but Tracy seemed to be in her own world now.

"Oh... she's slick," Tracy murmured. "Or she believes she is. You would think she'd have known her lawyer wouldn't fall for this. I wonder if she'll even have a lawyer tomorrow..."

Bradley reached for your hand on the table. "Can we just backtrack a moment? What kind of statement will she need to make?" he asked Tracy as he nodded at you. "And what will Meredith's lawyer be allowed to ask her?"

Tracy looked at his fingers intertwined with yours. "You'll just have to answer my questions honestly, without using the word girlfriend! And then Meredith's legal team is going to think it's open season on you as soon as they see your name was added to the docket. If we can even manage to have you added. So if you can't manage to answer their questions calmly and without crying as they try to shred you to pieces, then I suggest you learn how to overnight."

Bradley wanted to put an end to this entire thing, but you cut him off before he could start talking. "Do you honestly think I'll be helpful?"

"Absolutely. Could be the nail in Meredith's coffin, given all this new information."

"Then I'm in. Seriously Bradley, do not argue with us again," you told him, kissing his cheek while Tracy typed away. 

"Okay, I need some coffee. And then let's go over everything from the top," Tracy said, clapping her hands.

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

It was well after midnight by the time you coaxed Bradley into bed. These last minute revelations were something Tracy insisted were good for Bradley's case, but he was looking extremely apprehensive now. He was raking his fingers through his hair nonstop and pacing around. 

"You need to try to sleep," you whispered, pulling him down the hallway. "Let Tracy do what she needs to do, okay? She's going to be in charge tomorrow. She's good at this."

But he stopped short in front of Noah's door and let go of your hand. "You go get ready for bed. I'll be there in a minute." His voice was flat and his Adam's apple bobbed as he swallowed before ducking inside the dark bedroom. You were worried, mostly about him. And about how Noah would do when being questioned by the judge tomorrow. You didn't have time to worry about yourself, so that was at least one good thing you thought of while you brushed your teeth. 

You were dressed in one of Bradley's oversized shirts and waiting in bed for a while before he came in. You helped him change out of his clothes, and he climbed into bed next to you. He didn't say anything except, "I love you, Princess," after he pressed a soft kiss to your lips. But he let you pull him into your arms, and pretty soon you were dozing off to the feel of his soft breaths on your forehead and his heart beating beneath your palm. 

When you woke to a pitch black room, you could tell he was no longer in bed with you. You found him sitting on the floor in Noah's room, watching his son sleep, and when you walked in, your bare feet silent on the floor, he looked up at you. Even in the dim glow from the nightlight, you could tell he had been crying again. But he didn't ask you to leave. He reached for you. 

"You're a good dad," you told him with a soft sob as you climbed onto his lap and wrapped your arms around his neck. "Noah is lucky. And I don't believe they could take him away from you. Away from all this love."

He kissed your cheek, and then he smiled softly as you brushed Noah's curls from his forehead with one hand and Bradley's with the other. "I feel like I can't breathe right," he whispered, and you could feel his pulse racing as you pressed your lips to his neck. "I don't know what I'll do if they take him from me."

"Stop it. They won't."

He was silent again after that, and the two of you ended up sleeping right there on the floor. When you woke up as Noah climbed out of bed just after sunrise, your hip was a little sore, and Bradley was still sleeping. 

"Morning, Noah," you whispered, standing and scooping him into your arms. You took him to the kitchen, kissing his chubby cheeks on the way.

"Do you live here now?" he asked, yawning as you turned on the coffee maker. 

"No. I don't," you said, hoping he wouldn't say anything like that when he was questioned by the judge in a few hours. "I'm just your babysitter." He just blinked at you before asking for breakfast.

About twenty minutes later, when Bradley walked in rubbing his back, he made a beeline for Noah while you scrambled some eggs and made coffee. Even the mug that said My Other Car Is a Super Hornet didn't make you smile today. You burned your mouth on the coffee, and you nearly knocked the pan onto the floor. Because every time you looked at Bradley, you were on the verge of tears. Maybe you weren't capable of being as strong as you needed to be today. Now the idea of standing up in the courtroom was laughable. You were going to ruin everything.

Bradley was calling your name, and when you snapped out of your daze, he said, "You need to eat, too."

"I can't," you whispered, shaking your head. "I can't." You left them alone and went to take a quick shower, happy you'd packed a variety of clothing when you stopped home the other day. You were supposed to have a mock interview with one of your peers over a FaceTime call today, so you'd packed a blazer and some nice pants. You'd just have to skip the interview. Honestly, school and searching for a job had been the last things on your mind recently anyway.

You let Bradley get Noah ready to go, and when it was time to leave, you looked at him, so handsome in his navy blue suit. "Will you drive? Please?" he asked, holding out the Bronco key for you to take. You simply nodded, but a moment later, you felt tears in your eyes again. He was sitting in the backseat next to Noah. You backed carefully out of his driveway and headed to the center of the city and the courthouse and Meredith and everything else that you wished Bradley and Noah didn't have to see today. 

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

The fact that Tracy was chugging a Red Bull and looked like she hadn't slept at all was only making Bradley feel worse as he carried Noah up the stairs in front of the courthouse. 

She rushed toward them and pointed at you. "You're on the docket. Get ready. Meredith supposedly has a lawyer, and I'm sure they've seen the docket update by now."

"Okay," you replied. You were nodding, but you looked as nervous as Bradley felt.

Then Tracy was patting Noah on the head. "Remember me?  I'm Tracy. We're going to do something a little different today, okay Noah? It might seem a little silly at first, because you'll be the only kid here! But you'll be allowed to color when we get inside."

You gasped. "I didn't pack him any coloring books!"

"I have some," Tracy said, patting her briefcase. You immediately looked a little calmer, and Tracy added, "But that's the sign of a good babysitter if you usually pack them."

"She brings me coloring books when she babysits me," Noah told Tracy. 

Bradley held Noah a little tighter. "Made sure I got you the best babysitter around, bub."

Just as Tracy cracked open another can of Red Bull that she procured from somewhere, she said, "Time to go in." Bradley didn't stand too close to you, and he didn't touch you. He followed you inside the front doors at a respectable distance, and you seemed to understand what needed to be done today. 

When Bradley's eyes settled on Meredith, she was already looking at him. And she was standing next to a tall man in a suit. "Well, would you look at that? She does have a lawyer today," Tracy whispered, crushing the now empty can in her fist and throwing it away before walking over to introduce herself to him. 

Bradley had to turn his gaze away from his ex, and he walked a little further away from you. The desire to touch you was strong, but he instinctively wanted to get Noah as far away from Meredith as he possibly could. Bradley's heart was pounding, and a wave of nausea passed through him. 

"Daddy, can we go home?" Noah whispered, wrapping his arms around Bradley's neck. "I don't like it here."

Neither did Bradley. He held his son and thought about Carole, and how she never let anything scary happen to him when he was a kid. He thought about losing everything by the time he was a teenager and about the fact that Noah had given him a fresh start. A reason to be happy. And it was because of Noah that he met you. When he glanced over his shoulder, you were watching the two of them with a soft gaze. 

"Pretty soon, bub," he replied, squeezing his son and pressing his lips to his forehead. "I'll take you home soon. I hope."

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

Next up is the showdown! Get in my asks with questions and concerns, but we may be nearing the end. Hope you enjoy your fic, @beyondthesefourwalls And thank you @mak-32 !

PART 25

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