#I'd take him to work with me but I fear he is not cut out for the working lifestyle

[meownotgood]

there's the cutest small hidden message on the inside of lookup aki's box...

[ashwhowrites]

Older Eddie finding out you’re pregnant and has hard emotions over it. He’s excited but nervous because of his age and reader overhears him saying he doesn’t know if he can be a dad and you choose the ending

I hope this is what you wanted and you enjoy it. Thank you for requesting 🫶🏻

Baby talk

Eddie had his dream of having a wife and kids, but it fizzled out the older he got. It never seemed to be in his cards and he found himself okay with that. He didn't feel like he was missing out on anything. He enjoyed his life the way it was.

He had been together with Y/N for about two years. He loved that she wasn't in a rush to be married. She was young and had many years before she felt like her time was cutting short.

Y/N knew Eddie didn't have a plan in mind for having kids, and it wasn't something they talked about too much. She knew at his age, that kids were the last thing on his mind. She'd be lucky to even get a ring on her finger.

As she looked at the five pregnancy tests on the bathroom counter, she feared to tell Eddie the news.

"BABE?"

She jumped into action as she heard his voice. Scrambling to throw the tests into the trash can. She washed off her hands by the time he made it into the doorway.

"Just using the bathroom, what's up?" She asked, a fake smile plastered on her face

"Home from work and was thinking about ordering pizza?"

"Sounds good,"

Eddie nodded and walked out of the room to call the pizza place. YN looked at herself in the mirror and wondered what the hell she was going to do.

~~~

It had been almost two months and she hadn't said a word. She dumped out the trash and tried to forget it.

But now she was sick every morning, and her emotions were all out of whack

She knew she needed to say something before she began to show. She was scared and she hated that it was her own secret. She had all this on her shoulders and needed to share the weight.

"You okay? You barely ate your dinner," Eddie said, he sat across her at the restaurant. Couples talking all around them but they sat in silence. He watched her as she slowly picked at her food. He knew something was going on. She always looked tired, he'd hear her cry all throughout the day and he spent every morning holding her hair back.

"Would you ever want kids?" She asked, finally looking up

Eddie coughed as he was caught off guard

"Um, I don't know. I guess if I'm being honest, I would live perfectly fine without them." He shrugged, "But if it was something you wanted, I'd make it work."

"Make it work?" Y/N scoffed, "What just suffer and stick around because you got trapped?"

Eddie blinked at her aggression

"I didn't say that" Eddie deflected, "I just think if it happened, it would take me a while to be good with that. I never saw myself as a dad and it would be a lot to learn."

"Would you be happy?" she asked, her stomach began to turn and she felt vomit in the back of her throat

"I don't know,"

"Well, figure it out within these next seven months." She said she watched as his eyes shot open and he looked down at her body and back up again

"You're pregnant?" He choked out

She bit her lip nervously as she nodded

"Dammit" Eddie whispered to himself as he sighed

"Dammit?" She snapped, "That is all you have to say!" She stood up and slammed down her napkin.

Eddie watched as she marched out of the restaurant. He quickly threw as much cash as he had on the table and followed after her.

~

The car ride was silent. Every word that left Eddie's lips was ignored. She had her arms crossed as hot anger tears rolled down her face.

Eddie pulled into his driveway and she was fast to get out of the car.

"Baby, can we please talk?" He asked once they made it through the front door

"Sleep on the couch, asshole." She spat as she yanked off her heels and walked down the hallway.

~

Y/N wasn't sure how long she stared at the wall in silence but she knew it had been a while

She closed her eyes when she heard the bedroom door open.

Eddie slowly lifted up the sheets and crawled into the bed

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to upset you" he whispered, he wrapped his arms around her body and pressed her into his chest. "I was caught off guard and surprised. I thought we were always safe."

"Not safe enough," she snapped. She wanted to stay mad but his arms and lips kissing up and down her neck made her melt

"I'm going to be right here the whole time. You're not alone. We will do this together."

She rolled over, tears in her eyes as she tried to find his eyes in the dark

"Good because I am really scared," she cried

"It'll be okay." He soothed, leaned in, and pecked her lips

~~~

"Here is your beer, love," Y/N said as she placed the beer on the small table

It had been a crazy few months. She was now eight months and they were preparing for their baby to arrive.

"Thank you," he said as he pecked her cheek. Then turned his attention back to painting the wall

"I think this color looks great," Y/N smiled as she rubbed her bump. The light blue brightened up the nursery in the perfect way.

"I agree. The crib and changing table will be delivered tomorrow so Wayne will be over to help out. You just stay in bed and relax." Eddie said as he set down his paintbrush and grabbed his beer.

~

Y/N sat in her bed as she watched TV. Wayne and Eddie were down a few doors putting together the last few touches of the nursery.

She sighed as she grew restless, she needed to move. She climbed out of bed as fast as she could. Then walked out to the kitchen, she figured she could make lunch for the boys.

She finished the sandwiches and grabbed some beers. With her hands full, she walked to the room. But she stopped when she heard the two in a heated discussion.

"You are not walking out on her or that baby, Eddie," Wayne's voice was aggressive and stern. Y/N felt her heart drop at the thought.

"I didn't say that! I'm just fucking terrified. I'm too old to be starting over in my life. A newborn? That is a ton of work, and even more for someone who is as old as me." Eddie sighed

"I don't give a shit what age you are. Teenager, her age, or your age, doesn't matter, you are having a baby. I'm sure she's scared. And I'm sure she has been scared since she found out. She needs someone to count on, and you need to be that person. Having a kid will always be scary."

"I know! But what about when he starts school? I'm going to drop him off and be older than every dad there. I'll be a grandpa age by the time he gets into college. I don't know if I can be a dad."

"Edward quit making this about you! Who cares if you are older than the other dads. You've got an advantage. You've been working for years, probably a better income than they have. You have benefits that you can support her and your child with. You already made a fuss when she told you, don't make another scene." Wayne lectured

Eddie sat in silence and Y/N took the cue to walk in

"Lunch is served" she announced as she walked in. Acting like she didn't hear a single word.

"Thank you, dear," Wayne said as he pecked her head

"You didn't have to, you are supposed to be in bed," Eddie said as he pecked her cheek.

"I needed to move my legs," Y/N shrugged, "can I talk to you for a second?"

Eddie nodded and followed her into their bedroom

"Everything okay?" he asked as he softly touched her stomach

"Do you want to be a dad or not? Because it seemed like we figured it out and we were on the right track. And if you don't want him, you don't get me. I want this and I want us to be a family. But if you don't want that, be a man and tell me so I can figure out what I'm going to do for my child." She ranted, her arms crossed as she panted. She tried to keep her tears back.

Eddie sighed and sat on the bed. He grabbed her hand and moved her to stand between his legs. He released her hand to place both on her stomach and looked up at her

"He's our child. I am not walking away from you or him, and I never will. I know I'm all over the place, but I do want this. I'm worried about my age and how that might affect me being a good dad. I just don't want to let him down and I don't want you to regret having this magical moment with me and not someone who has a better grip on things." Eddie said

"Oh Eddie," she sighed then placed her hands on his cheeks. "You won't let him down. All you have to do is love and support him, which I know you can do. I don't want anyone else. I want this baby with you. I know you can do this. I believe in you." She leaned down and pecked his lips.

"I love you," he said against her lips

"I love you too"

And she was right. The second their baby was born, Eddie became the best dad she had ever seen. He adored Gavin, and Gavin was glued to his dad's hip. They were best friends and Y/N couldn't have been happier.

Eddie's fear never went away, but he treasured every moment he had with his family. He became a dad and he conquered it. Next, he was ready to conquer being a husband.

Tags!

@bmunson86 @mxcheese @ladymunson @michaelfuckinglangdon @z0mbie-blah @biittersweet @mirrorsstuff @somethingvicked @micheledawn1975 @ago-godance @magnificantmermaid @tlclick73 @hargrovesswifee @cityofidek @silky-luxe @lokiofasgard616 @loving-and-dreaming @eddiemunsonsbitch69 @thegemaqua @ashlynnkennedy @strangerthingsstories5255 @harringt8ns @pleasinghellfire @whoscamila @stusdollface93 @gretavankleep37 @bellaisswagger @arlx @ineedmentalhelp123

[favoniuscodex]

guardian angel [ genshin scenarios ]

summary: overprotectiveness isn't the cutest, but it's endearing to know that your boyfriend has your best interests in mind (aka instances where the boys are (healthily) protective of you).

characters: alhaitham, childe, cyno, diluc, xiao w/ a gn!reader

warnings: implied catcalling/harassment (alhaitham), intimidation (childe), exhaustion (cyno), minor injuries (diluc), threat of hilichurl attack (xiao). no angst endings.

word count: 3.4k

a/n: this one won the poll, so it's first up! hope u enjoy! thanks to @/spiriteddreams reading over alhaitham's part for me beforehand!!!

-- alhaitham --

Alhaitham enjoys sticking to routines. Thus, when you disrupt his routine of meeting him after work in order to walk home together, he is annoyed, but his brain is quick to rationalize it. They are probably just busy with work or they left work early, Alhaitham justifies. However, there is a less rational part of him that gnaws at his sanity, telling him that something is wrong.

He takes his usual path home, making it only a short distance before he feels arms wrap around his waist. Alhaitham stiffens in response to the sudden touch. But, as he looks down and realizes its just you, mouthing words that he can't hear due to the music playing through his headphones, Alhaitham pauses his music. He pushes one of his earpieces off his ear in order to hear you properly and parts his lips to speak, but an unfamiliar voice cuts through your reunion with Alhaitham.

"Look, he didn't even respond to your greeting," a man proclaims far too haughtily and assuming for Alhaitham's liking. "That's not your boyfriend. But it's okay, sweetheart, I can make sure you're not singl-"

Alhaitham doesn't have time for this nonsense. Don't get him wrong -- he has all the time in the world for you and anything you're excited about, but your distressed expression at the man's words has Alhaitham protectively wrapping an arm around you before turning around to face the mystery man obviously provoking you.

"Are you calling my partner a liar?" Alhaitham immediately challenges, narrowed eyes sharpening the intensity of his multicolored glare. Your harasser blinks a few times, slowly coming to a fearful recognition of who Alhaitham is.

"My apologies, Acting Grand Sag-" the man begins.

"Don't apologize to me. Apologize to them."

"I am sorry!" the man cries, but Alhaitham can't quite be bothered to hear the man grovel for forgiveness. Alhaitham looks down at you, deciding to let you make the call.

"Would you prefer for me to handle this or would you rather just go home?" Alhaitham asks you softly, looking at you over his shoulder. "I am content with either option."

"Um," you begin, peering around Alhaitham to glance at the man once more, who seems to be trying not to collapse in fear. "Just... Let's just go home. He won't mess with me again, and I'm hungry."

An affectionate, soft smile appears on Alhaitham's face at your words as he realizes you're just as attached to your little routines with him as he is. Thus, with all the venom he can muster in his expression, he turns back to the nervous man.

"If I see you anywhere around here again, I will ensure that you will be dealt with swiftly," Alhaitham promises, and the man nods before scampering off like a coward. As soon as the man is out of sight, Alhaitham sighs and grabs your hand. The action sends your heart aflutter, due to Alhaitham not frequently initiating public displays of affection.

"Are you alright?" He asks, using a gentle voice you don't hear all too often from him. You nod, and he smiles softly once more before giving your hand a gentle squeeze. "Very well then. If anyone else tries to make trouble for you, let me know and I'll handle it."

"Wow," you breathe teasingly. "Alhaitham willingly taking on extra work?"

Alhaitham sighs, but you notice the way a smirk threatens to flash across his features at your playful words.

"I'd work forever if it meant you'd be happy," Alhaitham says, and you playfully place your free hand over your heart, pretending to swoon.

"I think that's the most romantic thing you've ever said," you say with a giggle, relishing in the way Alhaitham rolls his eyes at your words.

"Let's go home. I have biryani planned for dinner."

"Biryani? I changed my mind -- that's the most romantic thing you've ever said."

You get a rare chuckle out of Alhaitham as he guides you home, walking close to you and protectively holding onto your hand tightly in case any more trouble comes along for the two of you.

-- childe --

"Pardon me for interrupting," a silky voice croons from behind where you and Childe stand. "I was hoping to have a word with our dearest Tartaglia."

Childe's grip on your hand tightens as his playful expression turns steely at the sound of the voice. He gives you a cautious glare, before plastering the fakest smile you've ever seen on his face.

"Give me a moment, babe," he murmurs lowly to you, practically speaking through gritted teeth, before turning to face a man you've never seen before. Of course, arriving at Zapolyarny Palace on the Tsaritsa's request practically demanded that you would meet new people, but few were able to evoke such a strong reaction from Childe like this man was.

The stranger adjusts his silver-framed glasses and smiles sweetly at you.

"Apologies for my rudeness, I do not believe we have met," he says, eerily reminding you of a viper waiting to strike. "I am Pantalone, ninth of the Fatui Harbingers. And you are..?"

You look over at Childe, who glances at you out of the side of his eye. You respond curtly, giving the man just your first name, and he laughs.

"I understand your hesitation to divulge answers, but your relationship with Tartaglia is quite evident already. Any other information I wish to find out about you I can do so with ea-"

"Spit it out, Pantalone. What do you want?" Childe asks, and you wonder if your boyfriend has lost his mind at how rudely he is speaking to his superior. However, Pantalone seems to pay it no mind, finding the conversation all the more amusing.

"My my, you're much more friendly Pulcinella and Capitano than you are with me. How tragic. I simply wished to discuss finances with you. Is that such a crime?"

Tartaglia blinks at him, taking a slight step forward and sheltering part of your frame behind him.

"We can discuss it at the Fatui meeting tomorrow. Considering you're a higher rank than me, you shouldn't require my input," Childe says, and Pantalone laughs once more. It is a dry type of laugh, as if he's never really found anything funny in his life. A conniving smile spreads across Pantalone's face once more.

"I see that you are on the defensive because of the company you currently keep. No worries. We can discuss our matters tomorrow," Pantalone says. He turns around and takes a few steps, before looking over his shoulder at the two of you. Tartaglia's hand moves from holding your own to wrapping protectively around your waist. Your lover straightens his posture, ready for a challenge, but Pantalone simply smiles eerily once more.

"I would be careful about who you show affection with in the Palace," Pantalone warns.

This time, it is your lover's turn to grin widely at his opponent across the hall.

"That's alright. I can fight," Tartaglia promises with an edge to his voice that you rarely hear. Pantalone's expression warps indecipherably at Childe's words. The ninth Harbinger shakes his head before turning and walking away, leaving you and Childe alone in the hall once more.

With his arm still on your waist, Childe leans over and presses a quick kiss to your forehead and smiles down at you.

"If any other Harbingers try to intimidate you, let me know and I'll handle it."

You stare at your lover, narrowing your eyes. "How would you handle it?"

Childe laughs softly. "I wouldn't want to ruin your stellar image of me, would I? Now, c'mon, let's go. This place is eerie."

-- cyno --

"You need to rest."

Your boyfriend's figure looms over your own tired one, multiplying the amount of relieving shade that covers your body. Despite Cyno's order for rest, your pride gets the best of you as you dismissively swat a hand through the air.

"I'm fine," you insist.

"You can barely walk. When was the last time you were even in the desert?"

"Is this a setup for a punchline?" You ask. Your voice almost sounds like a croak, straining from a lack of water. Cyno is quick to respond, pulling his own canteen off his belt and handing it over to you.

"No. It's me caring about you, that's what it is," Cyno crouches down to meet you at eye level. "Drink."

"This is your water. You need it. I'm not drinking it," you say stubbornly and Cyno sighs before pinching the bridge of his nose in annoyance.

"I know the desert well enough to know how to ration my water. I also know it well enough to tell you when to rest and when to drink. Go ahead. I'll be fine."

You narrow your eyes at him, not moving the canteen to your lips. Cyno sighs before plopping down in the shade-cooled sand next to you. In the distance, you watch waves of heat warp the sand dunes on the horizon, and you wonder if you're in over your head. You'll never admit that though. The last thing you wanted was to slow down Cyno on your trip to the desert, but here you are, struggling to bear the heat.

Cyno sits with you in silence for a moment, before splitting the quiet with another question.

"People often say my humor is dry," Cyno says plainly. "But I think it's only dry when it's in the desert."

A small giggle escapes your lips at the awful pun, and Cyno smiles slightly. Cyno looks over at you. He pointedly looks at the canteen in your hands before flickering his piercing gaze up to you. Despite his best attempt, Cyno can't bring himself to stare at you with the same intimidating gaze he uses for criminals. When he clears his throat to speak once more, you interrupt him by lifting the water to your lips, taking a few sips before handing it back to him.

"I can carry you until we reach an oasis. There should be one not too far away, if we're lucky," Cyno offers, and you giggle at his offer. At your laughter, Cyno raises an eyebrow questioningly. You lean forward, hugging your knees close to your chest and smiling at him.

"What's so funny?" Cyno says, and you beam at him.

"Nothing. You're just cute when you're worried about me."

Cyno's eyes widen, before he decides to study the sand instead of your eyes. You watch as his fingers twitch slightly in the sand as he thinks of the words to say.

"'Cute' isn't exactly how most people describe me," Cyno mutters. In your heat-addled haze, you only grin wider at him before closing his canteen and handing it back to him, drawing his attention once more.

"Well, you're cute to me, even if others can't see it," you say. Despite the warmth of your body, you still reach out to grab his hand, lacing your fingers through his.

"Can we rest for a bit here?" You ask sheepishly. "I'm a bit worried I won't be able to walk far if we get up now."

Cyno nods at your words. "Of course. The last thing I want is to overwork yourself. It's okay if we work at different paces - I'll wait for you as long as you need."

Your heart melts at his honest words, so you scoot over to him before laying down in the sand, holding out your arm for him to rest with you. However, he shakes his head, electing to hold your hand instead.

"I'll watch over you while you sleep. Right now, it's my duty to keep you safe."

-- diluc --

"It's just a scratch, 'Luc," you say to the broad-shouldered man currently fretting over your injuries. "I'll be fine, I just need a bandage."

Diluc glares at you with as much vitriol as he can muster towards you -- which isn't much. You're unsure if this type of glare from him would even scare one of the bunnies on the Dawn Winery grasses outside. It certainly isn't the same glare he uses for handling criminals and members of the Abyss. Despite Diluc's efforts to seem intimidating, he's never been able to be mean or intimidating towards you. Thus, you giggle at his expression and his brows furrow.

"This is serious, love. You can't keep going out there and getting injured," Diluc grumbles. "Come on, sit on the bathroom counter."

"One of the maids could've helped me, y'know," you say teasingly before hopping up and resting on the cool marble basin, watching as Diluc's cheeks flush with a faint shade of red. "But you're way cuter."

"Stop trying to distract me," Diluc mutters, voice plagued by his easily flustered state.

"Is it working?" You ask, and your lover falls silent. The color of his cheeks synchronizes with his hair as he furrows his brow, focusing on cleaning up the scraped skin on your arm with a clean cloth. You smile softly at him as he works, unaware of your affectionate gaze towards him.

"How did this happen?" Diluc asks after a few moments of silence. His voice warbles slightly, and it takes everything in you not to pull him in for a hug -- it would only upset your injury, which would upset Diluc further in turn. Guilt washes over you at the sadness in his voice, and you use your uninjured arm to lean forward and ruffle his hair affectionately.

"I just tripped on a branch while out trying to collect some berries. Don't worry, it wasn't anything bad, sweetheart. I promise."

Diluc swallows heavily before nodding. Both of you know why seeing you injured affects him so much, but neither of you dare speak of the causation. Instead, you move your free hand from his hair to his cheek, heart melting at the way his face instinctively leans into it. Diluc reaches behind you to pick up the roll of bandages that one of the maids provided.

"Tell me if this hurts, alright? It should be taut, but it should not hurt," Diluc murmurs, voice deep as he begins to wrap the bandages starting at your wrist. You hum in acknowledgement, but Diluc is far too gentle to cause you any pain. He wraps the bandage up perfectly, staring at his handiwork with narrowed eyes before looking up at you.

"It's perfect," you applaud him and, for the first time since you've shown up injured, Diluc smiles softly at you. "You did wonderful. I feel better already."

"If it causes you any issues, please let me know." He says hurriedly, and you sigh, causing him to look at confusion. You smile wearily at him.

"C'mere," you urge, moving your hand from his cheek towards his tie. Loosely, you grip the knot of the fabric, urging his face towards yours. Your lips meet Diluc's in a loving kiss. You can tell he's caught off guard by it as you hear the hasty slap of his hand against the marble counter behind you as he regains his balance, leaning further into the kiss. Diluc's other hand reaches forward to curl around your cheek and jaw, calloused fingertips delicately gliding against your skin like a restorationist carefully brushing a piece of fine art.

Diluc is a man of quiet intensity, preferring to show his devotion to you through actions rather than words. As he kisses you in this moment, the reverent movement of his lips tells you over and over how much he adores you. The worried tension eases out of his shoulders as he melts into you, parting only when the two of you need to catch your breath. You use this opportunity to press your forehead to Diluc's, staring at him in the eyes.

"'Luc, I'm not going anywhere." You reach up and cradle his hand closer to your face. "I promise."

Diluc's thumb brushes gently back and forth on your cheekbone as he mulls over words to say.

"I know," he sighs, before sounding more firm in his words. "I know. I trust you. I love you."

-- xiao --

You've never been happier to have your boyfriend accompany you on an expedition. Adventurer's Guild commissions were at an all-time high, but danger was also at an unprecedented level. For reasons still unknown to the Guild, Treasurer Hoarder activity was at an unusual high, which made transporting goods and completing commissions that much more difficult.

Plus, it wasn't that often that you got to see Xiao. Warmer months are approaching, which means monster activity will increase, along with the need for commissions. Sure, the two of you would still meet at Wangshu Inn, but your relationship with the adeptus is still rather unconventional. After all, you knew from the start that Xiao wasn't the type of guy who would take you to fancy dinners at Xinyue Kiosk.

Rather, the two of you were perfectly content with eating dinner together on the Wangshu Inn balcony whenever the weather was nice and your schedules coincided. 'Dates' were a foreign concept to Xiao, and you didn't want to urge him out of his comfort zone by surrounding him with other humans. Thus, you found enjoyment in the fact that Xiao was willing to help you with this commission -- it was a more unique date for the two of you.

Yet, as the two of you head north to Qingce Village on a trodden dirt path, Xiao is quick to wrap his arms around you, pinning your hands to your sides and clutching you close.

"Xi-" you begin, but you're cut off by the stomach-whirling sensation of teleporting away. The two of you touch the ground almost instantaneously, but you're left reeling and dazed, not used to the feeling of teleportation. The two of you are now stationed in a cave, and you have no clue how far you've gone.

"What? Aren't you not supposed to teleport me like that?" You breathe, mind still spinning with confusion and disorientation, but Xiao silences you with a finger to his lips. With a single swipe of his hand, his mask reappears on his face, and he's quick to summon his spear.

"Wait here."

You watch, dumbfounded, as your lover teleports away, leaving you alone. Xiao wasn't the type to leave you stranded without good reason, so you sigh and make yourself comfortable on the stone ground of the cave, waiting for him to return.

Minutes later, the yaksha returns. The tip of his spear is stained with something, but you figure it's probably better if you don't pay too much attention to that.

"You are bad at watching the surroundings," Xiao says, looking down at you before wiping his mask away. You look up at him, blinking slowly.

"Wow, thanks," you say sardonically, and Xiao tilts his head, not fully used to human sarcasm.

"There were hilichurls following us," Xiao says, sitting down besides you on the cave floor. "They unsheathed an arrow, so I teleported us away."

"Oh," you say as a devious thought pops into your mind. "Thanks, sweetheart."

At the usage of a pet name, Xiao's face turns scarlet and he looks away from you, flustered. Deciding to make it even worse, you wrap your arms around his shoulders, leaning into him and resting your head on his shoulder.

"What would I ever do without my dashing protector to save me? How may I ever repay my loyal knight?" You giggle while Xiao's eyes widen at your playfully romantic words. "You swept me and my heart off my feet with your heroic ac-"

"Enough." Xiao says, but it comes out less as a firm demand and rather as a sheepish choke of words. "Please."

You giggle once more, memorizing the way the red on his face complements the green in his hair, before leaning in to place a quick kiss on his cheek.

"Thanks for looking out for me, Xiao," you say, teasing tone leaving your voice. Xiao raises his hand to rest on one of the arms you have wrapped around his shoulder, and you feel your heart swell at the rare initiation of physical contact.

"I will always be there when you need me," Xiao vows, and you realize just how far your relationship with the adeptus has come. While he still blushes at your words, he no longer admonishes you for playful romantics and flirty remarks. Instead, he embarrassedly embraces them, while holding you close.

"Good thing I always need you then, huh?" you murmur softly, as if whispering a secret amidst a crowd. The two of you sit alone in the cave for a while longer, and you realize you wouldn't mind spending forever like this, as long as Xiao was by your side, with his eyes fluttered closed in contentment.

[norrisleclercf1]

Can I has Mafia!Jenson x assistant!reader where she wears the body jewellery to a dinner of some sorts, or like an event, and Jenson is just completely speechless? They're in that weird cat and mouse game still where they both know the other has feelings but are too scared to admit their own but Jenson would kill whoever looks at her 👐🏼

A/N: HEHEHE

"I am, not wearing that."

Lewis snaps his fan closed and groans, cracking his neck as he glares at you. "Yes the fuck you are, now, go change." He pats your ass and throws you into the changing room. You turn quick and pull at the handle and groan when you realize the bastard locked it from the outside.

"I'll just stay in here!" You yell, a snort echos, as Lewis's boots click on the floor. "Fine you can stay in there, but Jenson will come in here, now wither I open the door with you dressed or naked, is your choice." Biting down hard, your jaw aches from the threat, blowing air out as you take a moment to calm down.

"I hate you!" "No you don't,"

Groaning, you hate that Lewis was right, you could never hate your best friend. Looking at the outfit you groan and quickly undress.

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

"Goddamn, even I'd fuck you." Blushing at the words, Lewis smiles as he walks around you. Wearing black stilettos, a skin tight black dress that had a deep cut V that went down to your naval, your breasts holding perfectly it looked sinful, it had slits on either side that went up to the curves of your hip bones, you'd keep to yourself you weren't wearing any panties. But the silent killer, was this small but noticeable gold chain that layed on your sternum, but broke off at the end and wrapped under your breasts. It had gorgeous little pearls that adorned your skin, it looked classy yet a little hint of seduction. Lewis loved it.

"Well, okay," Lewis takes a breath and fixes his pants which has you slapping his shoulder but you both giggle, leaning in he kisses your cheek and brings you over to do a smokey eye and paint your lips a deep wine red. "Thank you," You whisper, feeling confident.

You might work for Jenson Button, one of the feared men in the Mafia world and even made him fall to is knees, but even you needed to feel pretty once in a while, and Lewis was always happy to dress you up. "For you," He whispers and kisses your cheeks.

"I have to go," You sigh, not wanting to head to this meeting. Jenson had asked you to come with and Lewis decided to make you gorgeous and confident and have all the men eating out of your hand.

And damn did he succeed.

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

Climbing out of the car you say thank you and hold your little clutch and walk inside to the dark little restaurant. You didn't know where Jenson and the other men where, looking around for them.

Jenson was going to murder Lewis. He was going to kill him and maybe torture him, but he was going to do something to the man. Because explain to him, why he gorgeous, sweet, somewhat shy, and brilliant assistant was currently wearing a dress that was begging Jenson to fuck her in.

Biting his lip he groans, seeing you in that dress should be illegal and the fact he now had business partners here, to see you in this dress. He was going to rip their fucking eyes out. Seeing you look around lost and confused made his blood bump so hard he could hear it in his ears. "Excuse me," He slides out of the booth and walks up behind you, and feels his pants get even tighter seeing the finer details of the dress.

God he wanted to take his hand and reach into the slits of the dress and grab your ass pulling you close, having you sit on his lap and feel him grow hard underneath you. He wanted to slide the long sleeves off your shoulders and watch as you bounce, the body jewelry teasing him and god, he was going to come right here. "Y/n," You jump, and he has to control himself from wrapping his arms around your waist.

"God, Mr. Button, scared me." You blush seeing the way he was eating you alive. "I'm sorry, but...what are you wearing?" He steps closer to you. Body tensing you hate the way you lean forward, craving the warmth and the scent of his cologne wrapped around you.

"Lewis designed it for me," You whisper, as the two of you lean in closer, craning your neck to look up at him, as he looks down at you. "Come home wit-" "Mr. Button, you're table is ready for your orders," The two of you jump back as the waitress smiles, seeming somewhat annoyed and you blush looking away.

"Let's go," He whispers, and holds out his arm, which you gratefully take as he leads you to the table and stops. "Fuck, I can't." He moves to stand in front of you and shrugs his suit jacket off and laying in on your shoulders, covering your body, his hands tighten on the collar and pulls you in.

"Only I can see you like this, understand? Only me," He whispers, leaning in and you have the urge to lean in just a little bit, he smiles and bumps your forehead and moves away. "If they stare at you to long and make you uncomfortable, squeeze my thigh twice and I'll blow their fucking heads off," You nod, getting a smile from him, "Good girl."

[duskiers]

Stitches of Fate

> percy jackson / apollo!reader

> In the quiet of Camp Half-Blood's infirmary, you carefully stitch up Percy Jackson's latest battle wound.

‿︵‿︵⊹‿︵‿︵⊹‿︵⊹‿︵🍸︵‿⊹︵‿⊹︵‿︵‿⊹︵‿︵

In the dim light of the infirmary at Camp Half-Blood, you focused intently on the task at hand. Percy lay before you, his usually vibrant sea-green eyes dulled with pain. He had returned from a skirmish with a group of monsters, bearing a nasty gash along his side—

"I'm sorry if this hurts" you murmured, threading the needle once more. Healing was a gift passed down from your godly parent, but it required concentration and care, especially with injuries as severe as Percy's.

"It's okay" Percy assured, his voice laced with discomfort. "I've had worse. You're doing great."

You couldn’t help but smile at his attempt to ease the tension. Percy was always putting others before himself, even when he was the one lying injured. You worked quietly, the only sounds in the room being the steady breathing of Percy and the occasional clink of medical tools.

"Just a few more stitches and you’ll be as good as new," you said, trying to sound confident. You were almost done, and the wound was looking much better, but the sight of Percy in pain tugged at your heartstrings.

Percy chuckled weakly, wincing slightly as he did. "I doubt I'll ever be as good as new, but I appreciate the optimism."

You tied off the last stitch, cutting the thread with a small snip. "There, all done. How do you feel?"

"Like I've been stitched up by the best," Percy replied with a grin, attempting to sit up. You gently pushed him back down.

"You need to rest" you insisted. "Healing takes time, even for demigods, even for you."

Percy's smile softened, his eyes locking with yours. "Thanks for taking care of me" he said, "I don't know what I'd do without you."

You felt a warmth spread through your chest, a mix of relief and something deeper, something that had been growing for a while now. "You'll never have to find out." you responded, your voice barely above a whisper.

For a moment, there was silence, a comfortable, charged silence that spoke volumes. You began to clean up the area, avoiding Percy's gaze, fearing your feelings were too transparent.

"Percy, you should get some rest now. You'll need your strength," you said, more to fill the silence than anything else.

"Yeah, you're right," Percy agreed, though he made no move to close his eyes, watching you instead.

As you turned off the light, leaving only a soft glow to illuminate the room, you glanced back at Percy. His eyes were closed now, a peaceful expression on his face. You knew there would be more battles, more injuries, but in this moment, there was only the quiet understanding that whatever the future held, you'd face it together.

[lovelyflowers-world]

Lemon Girl

So I thought about this when listening to Lemon boy by cavetown I think it's pretty good I don't know though

Percy Jackson x Reader

⋆⁺｡˚⋆˙‧₊☽ ◯ ☾₊‧˙⋆˚｡⁺⋆

There once was a bitter sweet man and they called him lemon boy 

It was never easy being the daughter of Nyx people never seemed to want to be near me because my mother was one of the most feared goddesses she was even feared by Zeus himself.

 So I kept to myself in the garden I planted away from everyone in my own bitterness. Until he came around he was like a dam weed he just wouldn't go away no matter how much I pushed him to go away. 

"I'm Percy. Percy Jackson son of Poseidon"

"(Y/N) daughter of Nyx please go away you're stepping on my carrots" 

He was growing in my garden and I pulled him out by his hair like a weed and like weeds do he only came and grew back again 

It seemed no matter how long or hard I pushed and pushed he was always there waving to me or by my side trying to speak to me 

"What are those?" 

"They're snapdragons" 

"And what are those" 

"Fly traps" 

So I figured this time I might as well let him be 

After awhile I got used to him being around so much it seemed like he just became a part of my routine like clockwork he was there every day after his practices so I thought 'might as well put him to work' 

"Wait so how do I do this?" 

I rolled my eyes "If they've fully blossomed cut them and take out the thorns and put them in the bucket sound simple?"

"okay got it!" 

He never seemed to complain always happy to be there 

Lemon boy and me started to get along together I helped him plant his seeds and we mowed the lawn in bad weather

"So you're just going to dig a small holes about four inches deep and plant your seeds and if we take care of it good enough you'll have a watermelon patch" I looked over to him and smiled 

He smiled back and nodded and got to work. He never seemed to care about all the dirt and bugs he'd had to encounter 

But soon his bittersweet started to rub off on me 

I looked over and saw Clarisse picking on Percy I ran over 

"HEY!" They looked over to me Clarisse was scared as shit "Why don't you go shove your spear up your ass or something Clarisse!" I grabbed Percy and pushed him away as we walked off 

"Thanks" I looked to him and rolled my eyes 

"Yeah well I wasn't doing it for you I was doing it because she almost pushed you into my lilies" I blushed and ran off 

"GET TO WORK SEAWEED BRAIN!" 

I found out that my friends are more of the savory type and they weren't too keen on compromising with a nice lemon pie

"why are you hanging out with her?!" 

I looked over and saw Percy talking to Annabeth they looked to me and I looked away 

"She's nice I actually really like hanging out with her" 

"She's bad news Percy her mom is the goddess of night of darkness!" 

I sighed and walked further away I knew this day would come he'd leave soon enough 

"Hey I picked the oranges you asked for" 

I looked over and he was smiling at me...maybe he wasn't going to leave 

But what if I run out of fertilizer?

"Idiot! Be careful!" 

I grabbed onto Percy's hand pressing a towel against it he cut himself on a knife cutting off a piece of orange for himself 

"Aw does the big bad bitter (Y/n) care about me?" 

I rolled my eyes and applied more pressure than necessary on his wound and walked away 

"As if I'd care about you seaweed brain" 

What if the clouds run out of rain?

"You're going on a quest?" 

"Yeah it shouldn't take long we're just going to track down a demigod who needs help" 

I looked at him I was concerned what if Percy didn't come back I'd be all alone again I'd loose the only friend I've had in my fifteen years of being here 

"Hey don't worry I'll be okay I have Annabeth and Grover to help me" 

He smiled and I nodded he hugged me I was so surprised 

"take care of my watermelon patch" 

I rolled my eyes and pat his back and sighed 

"You better come back or else I'll rip your your watermelon patch and plant a lemon tree" 

He laughed oh gods please let him come back home safely 

What if Lemon boy won't grow no longer?

It's been a month and Percy hasn't come back I've been more worried than I ever have been as I continued to cut the roses I heard footsteps 

"(Y/N) here Chiron asked me to deliver this to you" 

I turned around and saw a child of Hermes hand me a letter sealed with a brown envelope I smiled up at them they looked stunned 

"Thank you" 

I got up and walked away 

"Did she just tell you thank you?!" 

"Oh my gods" 

"Percy definitely changed her" 

I rolled my eyes and walked into my cabin and looked at the letter reading the name 

"Percy" 

What if beaches dry of sugar cane?

Run. 

That was the only thing on my mind as I ran in the rain my clothing soaked to the max I could care less about that I had only one thing on my mind 

"PERCY!" 

I ran toward the med cabin 

The whales start to beach themselves

People were trying to push me back keeping me from going inside 

"STOP! STOP I HAVE TO SEE HIM!" 

I pushed them all back and ran into Chiron we just stood silent in front of each other it was like I was communicating with him 'please I have to see him' 

He moved aside 

Tortoise shells tear away from their spines

I walked up to his bed slowly Grover and Annabeth by his sides looked to me 

"We're sorry (Y/n) we tried to stop him but he was trying to protect the new demigod and..and he got hurt" 

It happens all the time, it happens all the time

I don't even know who was talking to me I was too busy staring at Percy his body battered and bruised a large gash on his stomach that was bandaged 

They up to me patting me on the shoulder and walked away to leave me alone with him I walked up to his side and fell to my knees hugging his waist crying into it 

"Percy..Percy you stupid idiot you said you'd be safe"

Lemon Boy and I, we're gonna live forever

I woke up to the sound of Percy taking a deep breath I moved away from him and he looked at me confused 

"(Y/N)?" 

I wasted no time in hugging him I was crying even harder than last night 

"Percy! Percy you idiot I told you to be safe! What the hell!?" 

He chuckled and hugged me back tightly he moved me back a bit to look me in the eyes 

"I thought you didn't care about me?" 

I smiled and shook my head 

Like Snufkin and Little My, we'll get around wherever

Me and Percy were walking through camp flowers in hand handing them out to people my roses grew beautifully this season all thanks to Percy 

"Imagine that Percy Jackson and (Y/n) (L/n)?" 

"She seems a lot less bitter with him around" 

"I like it" 

I smiled and walked closer to Percy bumping my shoulder with his 

"where to next seaweed brain?" 

Lemon Boy and I, we're gonna live forever

Me and Percy were running around past curfew laughing hand in hand  

"Percy where are we going?!" 

"You'll see" 

He looked back at me for a moment before looking forward again running faster I laughed louder 

"Percy hold on!" 

Like Snufkin and Little My, we'll get around wherever

We stopped at my garden under my lemon tree there was a nice picnic set out 

"Percy? is this-" 

"For us? Yes yes it is" 

He dragged me to the blanket and sat me down handing me a plate 

"Lemon pie?" 

"I know it's your favorite" 

I blushed and looked away embarrassed I looked up to sky the stars and moon looked beautiful 

"They're not as beautiful as you" 

I probably looked like a cherry now jeez this boy is going to kill me 

It's actually pretty easy being nice to a bitter boy like him

Me and Percy were working in the garden when a few other people came around 

"Hey can we help you (Y/n)?" 

"Yeah I want to help too!" 

"Can you teach me how to care for my plants they're starting to die" 

I was getting overwhelmed by all the talk happening that's when Percy stepped in 

"Hey back off my girlfriend will you one at a time" 

'Girlfriend!?' 

Cause we're the bitterest boys in town

Me and Percy were sitting by the lake watching the sunset He leaned his head on my shoulder 

"So about what happened earlier- I didn't mean to call you my girlfriend- I mean not that I would mind for you to be my girlfriend I would love that- but of course you have a choic-" 

Cause we're the bitterest boys in town

I kissed him and once I pulled away I looked at him and smiled 

"I would love nothing more than to be your girlfriend Percy" 

I leaned my head on his shoulder as I looked back to the sunset I heard him sigh in relief 

"cool" 

He leaned his head on top of mine 

Yeah I definitely got used to him and I don't regret it 

And I got myself a citrus friend

⋆⁺｡˚⋆˙‧₊☽ ◯ ☾₊‧˙⋆˚｡⁺⋆

Go check out my fanfiction Riptide on wattpad link in my page <3

[tacticaldiary]

Frightened Of The Fall

Pairing: Simon 'Ghost' Riley x Reader

Genre: Hurt/Comfort

"Simon." He rasps, grip tightening around her arms. "Call me Simon."

Her smile widens and it makes something in him break with a need to let her light smooth over his jagged, broken pieces.

"I love you, Simon."

Masterlist

Baby birds are born with an innate fear of falling. Frightening little things, skittering over to the edges of their nests and peering down, curious but never brave enough to take a leap. It's their mothers that nudge them along, shove them over the edge knowing that they'll come out unscathed.

Simon remembers the soft look on his mother's face when she used to read to him at night, locking the door and draping his bedsheets over their heads like a little makeshift tent.

It's one of the clearer memories in his head, but nothing in his life comes completely untainted.

His father always got tired of yelling and banging on his door. He'd find the master key somewhere and click the lock back open, ending her attempts to distract him on the worst days.

His father had shoved him off the edge too soon, not accustomed to a mother's intuition and only driven by the cruel need to see him flail and fall as he hit the ground hard.

                               · · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·  

"Does pasta sound okay?"

Ghost hums into his cup of coffee, skimming over a document he'd put off till the last minute to review. Their kitchen table is littered with files and folders belonging to them both. "Thought you were going out tonight.?"

Working in the same division of the military means their privy to the same confidential information, luckily.

"I was," She nods, setting down the packet of pasta. "But I cancelled. Thought some time alone with you would be better..."

He nods, and the knot of unease that's been tightening in her chest for the past week makes an appearance again. He doesn't say anything, he hasn't been saying much at all these days, and it's making her more than uneasy.

Ghost wasn't an overly silent man, especially not with her, so this behaviour has been out of character enough to raise some flags. A little frustrated at his lack of interest, she walks across the kitchen to join him at the table.

"Is something wrong?"

Sometimes, Ghost sees the gentle nature of his mother in her.

When she smiles at him like he's hung the moon and the stars for doing her a simple favour. The quiet nights together spent soaking in company that he hasn't had the chance to experience in years...

"Nothing's wrong."

"You're angry at me."

He glances up at her, raising an eyebrow. "You'd know if I was mad at you, love."

"Then what is it?" She pushes, "You've been so...so disinterested lately." She really tries to word it eloquently in a way that's not too intense. "You don't join me for any activity apart from work, you barely say a word to me if I don't initiate a conversation!"

She's certainly got his attention now.

"You didn't even ask where I was going when I told you I had plans tonight, it's like...it's like you don't care anymore." She finishes, pushing out the last part of her sentence in a voice wrapped with hurt. "If you don't...don't want me, I'd rather you just say it. I'll understand, but it's not fair to keep me at arm's length when-"

"Stop." He cuts her off loudly. "You think I don't want you anymore?" The papers lay on the table, completely forgotten as he pushes himself to stand up next to her. There's an urgency in his movements that she hasn't seen before.

"You sure make it seem that way."

"I don't." His gaze flickers across her face and his stomach sinks when he sees nothing but raw honesty and hurt. "Of course I want you-"

"Then why don't you talk to me?"

That shuts him up.

"I was thinking." He clenches and unclenches his jaw. "About everything. About...us." When he sees devastation flash across her face, he's quick to correct her misunderstanding. "Fucking hell, not like that." He assures her, taking her arms in his hands and stepping closer. "Never like that, darling. Shouldn't have made you doubt anything, didn't mean to." Ghost presses her face to the crook of his neck, loosening a sigh of relief when she doesn't push him away and nestles there instead.

"Then what is it?" She draws in a shaky breath. "If it's not me, why are you pulling away?"

It's a beat before he answers.

"I've always wanted a family." He squeezes her arms briefly. "Never thought I'd have anyone else to call that." His gaze is fixed firmly on the wall behind them, even when she tilts her head up to peer at him.

She doesn't push him, doesn't beg for details. Patient as always, and the knowledge that she would not force him to tell her anything he couldn't is the very thing that drives him to bear his thoughts to her.

Ghost tells her about coming home to a house of cold bodies. He doesn't spare any details, she's not frail or fragile. Hell, she's drawn just as much blood, just as viciously as he had, so he lays it all out as it happened. He tells her about his mother, about the good in his life ripped away by a fate that he dragged across their doormat.

"You're afraid it'll happen again." She whispers when he finishes.

"I'm...cautious."

"It's okay to be afraid." She smooths a hand over his hair much more gently than a man like him deserves. "You're human, Ghost. You're alive, they would be glad that you made it out alive."

"Shit luck I brought them, though." A hoarse voice he lets mingle with the loathing he's carried ever since he could remember.

"It won't happen again." His gaze flickers down to her at the declaration, "It's in the past, baby. Unless you let me go, I'm not going anyway."

"I don't." He tightens his grip instinctively. The very idea of being the reason he's lost the best thing that's ever happened to him is revolting. He intends to keep her for as long as she'll have him.

"Good." She cracks a small smile. Her fingers ghost over the scars on his cheek, marred with years of memories. "Neither of us are good people." She whispers. "Not with the things we've done, the things we've seen. But we're good for each other. You're so good to me and nothing in your past is going to take that away. Not even you."

Earnest and honest and determined, there's no protest Ghost can make that would strike her words untrue. He takes in an unsteady breath instead, letting himself sink into her promises.

"Let me in." She whispers, soft and pleading. "Build a life with me. Let me take care of you, Ghost."

He loosens a shuddering sigh out of his chest, a feeling so viscerally overwhelming washing him inside and out. It grows and expands, sheds lights on the corners of him untouched by love and safety.

Always shrouded in caution and fear, the sudden light is bound to sting the eyes of someone who's kept in the dark. The warmth is enough to burn someone kept in the cold.

She searches his eyes for something, for anything. A hint of agreement, a crack in the iron walls she can take as a sign to start chipping at.

"I love you."

And he believes it.

"Simon." He rasps, grip tightening around her arms. "Call me Simon."

Her smile widens and it makes something in him break with a need to let her light smooth over his jagged, broken pieces.

"I love you, Simon."

And she can see the light shining through.

Reblog, Like and Comment!

(28/11/2023)

[roosterforme]

The Younger Kind Part 29 | Rooster x Reader

Summary: Bradley was deploying, and your insecurity started getting the best of you. He wanted to leave provisions for you and Noah, but you didn't want him to think you were taking advantage of him. As you initiated role playing and goodbye sex, you realized you were trying to guarantee he'd be thinking about you as much as you would be thinking about him. But Bradley was considering a lot more than that.

Warnings: Angst, swearing, fluff, smut, and age gap (18+)

Length: 6500 words

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

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

With just a few days left before your boyfriend's deployment, you found yourselves touching each other at every opportunity you were given. When you cooked meals, Bradley's hands were on you as he stood behind you, whispering sweet nothings or amusing commentary. After Noah was in bed, you were undressing each other. And all of the times in between, you and he were holding hands or sharing kisses with such earnest sincerity, you didn't know how you'd make it weeks without him.

There was a small part of you that feared Bradley was expecting round the clock sex before he left. How were you supposed to keep a deployed boyfriend faithful to you unless you let him do whatever he wanted? You'd heard horrible things about guys in the military. Yet he wasn't initiating sex with any more frequency than before. And when he said he wanted to snuggle with you, that's exactly what happened. 

You spent most of your time in his arms, just talking about what was important. "We should figure out these jobs, Princess," he said one night, sipping a beer on the couch and patting his thigh. 

You were frustrated and having a hard time deciding which job was best for you, but as you settled down in his lap, the tension melted away. Bradley wrapped his arm around you, and when he pressed his lips to your neck, you stole his beer and took a sip.

"What are you thinking?" he asked softly, running his fingers leisurely along your body until you handed him back his beer. 

You sighed. "I know which job I want, but I don't know if it's the best decision to make right now."

His eyes were so sincere, you could tell he was focused on your every word even though you were straddling his thigh. "What are you unsure of, Baby?"

"I just..." you said, trailing off and looking at the scars on his neck. "I have a lot of loans to pay back. I did everything by myself after I turned eighteen. And the job at the hospital pays more."

"You said you'd constantly have different shifts. Sometimes you'd work at night?"

"Yes," you confirmed. "So I wouldn't get to see you and Noah as much after your deployment. Between my commute from my place, plus the times I might be staying here, I'd be in the car a lot." You wanted to move in here with them permanently. Your place felt like a rental; his felt like a home. But you were hesitant, still concerned he would think you were trying to take advantage. 

Bradley examined your face, his expression neutral as his hand on your body pulled you a little closer. He sipped his beer before finishing the rest of the bottle and setting it aside. 

"I don't want you to worry about your loans," he told you as his other hand settled on your thigh. "We got that covered, okay?"

"But-"

"No," he said a little louder, cutting you off. "You want to take that job with the private practice. I know you do. You told me days ago that it seems like a better fit. So what's holding you back?"

Your gaze dropped to his chest as you muttered, "The loans."

"Stop talking about the loans, Baby. Pretend they don't exist." His voice was a little rough, and you had to squeeze your thighs around his leg to keep from moaning. "And while we're at it, let's assume you'll be doing all of your commuting from right here."

"Right here?" you asked, trying to make him laugh, because he sounded very serious. "From your lap?"

He pulled you close with both hands, and you squeaked, bracing your hands on his shoulders as his lips met yours in a hard kiss. When his tongue slipped between your lips, you tasted his beer. He was relentless, with one calloused hand at the back of your neck, as you moaned against his mouth. 

He released your lips, but kept you so your face was centimeters from his. "Right here. My house. My lap. In my arms. This is where you belong. Okay? You take the job you want more, Princess. And I'll take care of the rest."

"Daddy-" you gasped, already feeling the need to protest. 

He rubbed his fingers along your neck, and you let your forehead rest against his. "You do so much around here, and you ask for nothing in return. Stop arguing with me. Accept the job you want. It has better hours. It's closer to Coronado. Sure, the pay is a little lower, but it has great benefits, which will help in case we ever have a baby."

"Oh," you gasped, kissing him before you really realized what you were doing. You knew another child was something he had been thinking about. He told you he would be excited if you got pregnant. But just knowing that's what he was thinking about right now was making you a little lightheaded. 

A minute later, he had you underneath him on the couch. His cheeks were flushed, and his lips and breath were just barely almost touching your neck. You needed more, but he wasn't going to give you anything else until you gave him some answers. 

"You gonna call and accept the job you want?"

"Yes," you gasped. "I'll call them tomorrow."

"You gonna stop worrying about your loans?"

You hesitated, and he started to pull away. "Yes," you whined until his nose brushed along your sensitive skin. 

"You gonna move more of your stuff in here?"

"I will, Daddy," you confirmed, and you were rewarded with the soft pressure of him sucking on your pulse point. 

"That's a good girl," he praised, pushing your shirt up and kissing your belly. "I want you here. You can have as much space as you need. Nothing is off limits. Tons of room up in the attic."

But you were barely listening as his fingers found your zipper, and then his mouth was on your pussy. You realized as you started begging him to make you squirt that in a lot of ways, Bradley was more cunning than you were.

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

When Bradley was leaving for work the next morning with Noah in his arms, you were dressed in one of his old shirts and sipping coffee from his Trust me...I'm a pilot mug. He was delighted to hear you say you were heading up to the attic. You claimed you wanted to see how much room was available to store your textbooks, and he thought that was a very good sign. Then he reminded you that you could sort through anything you wanted, but not to throw away anything pertaining to Noah without running it by him first. 

You kissed Noah before reaching up to kiss Bradley as well. Then he paused to grab his checkbook and you snorted.

"What?" he asked. "I need to pay the daycare for this month."

"You can pay on your phone. Using an app." Now you were raising your voice like he couldn't hear you. "Do you want me to show you how, grandpa?"

Bradley kept his expression neutral as you giggled and almost spilled your coffee. "First of all, my name is Daddy. Second, I don't like using apps for everything. And third, I was going to leave you my checkbook so you could pay Noah's tuition next month. But if you're going to make fun of me-"

You kissed his lips with a big smile on your face. "I can pay with a check next month," you assured him. "You better go before you're late. I love you, Daddy. Love you, sweet Noah."

Then Bradley dropped Noah off and continued to base. He had one of those days that was just too busy for no reason, and he wasn't getting anywhere with the things he needed to get done before he left for deployment. Your credit card hadn't arrived yet, and Tracy hadn't contacted him about the order of protection paperwork. 

"Hey," Jake drawled, walking over to annoy Bradley during lunch when he was trying to read the texts you'd sent him. Apparently you found an old polaroid camera in the attic and wanted to know if you could mess around with it. 

"What do you want?" Bradley asked Jake while he let you know you could do anything you felt like. 

"Just wanted to see if you were going to need any help with Noah while you're deployed."

"I would sooner trust my child to babysit you than the other way around," Bradley replied with a smirk. 

But Jake was undeterred as he smiled and said, "Nat told me your babysitter is going to be all alone at your house, watching your kid. Just thought maybe I could swing by and check on her. Give her anything she might need."

Two months ago, Bradley would have been ready to throttle his coworker. But now he just smiled back. "And what do you have that you think she might need?"

"I can think of one thing," Jake replied with a shrug. 

Bradley rolled his eyes. "I've seen it in the locker room, and I doubt she would be interested."

"Well, maybe I'll let her decide for herself while you're away."

You wouldn't even humor Jake, and Bradley knew it. You promised it would never happen. You'd barely even spoken to him when you were at the Hard Deck. You belonged with Bradley. But the idea of another guy with his hands on you, fucking your sweet pussy...he didn't like thinking about it at all. Especially not Jake. 

"Enjoy the rejection," Bradley snarled as he went to get some lunch.

Now he was annoyed. Jake could get under his skin too easily, and he was in a bad mood because of it. And to top it off, Tracy told him she had no updated information when he texted her. He just wanted to get home to you and his son and his delicious dinner that he would clean up after.

When he picked Noah up and carried him to the Bronco, he was already whining for you and some ants on logs. "Honestly, bub, I feel like whining for Princess, too. Let's just get home."

When Bradley got home and unlocked the front door, you called out, "Hey, boys!" You weren't even in the living room, but the sound of your voice excited him. He and Noah both ran for the kitchen where you were pulling a lasagna out of the oven that smelled so good, Bradley's stomach growled louder. He recognized that you were wearing the dress you had on the day he met you, and your lips were glossy and perfect. "Hi, Daddy."

Fuck. He couldn't wait to get his hands on you later. Pull your dress up and kiss off your lipgloss. 

"Hey, Baby. How was your day?" he grunted.

"It was so good!" You had one of Noah's brand new coloring books out with some crayons, and you pulled out the chair for him to sit. "I moved more of my stuff in. I hope you don't mind," you said with a little smirk.

Bradley looked at you with one eyebrow raised and gently backed you up to the counter. "Mind? You know I'd be happiest if you moved all of your stuff in here." Hadn't he made that clear? He wasn't about to change his mind about you.

"I know," you whispered, draping your arms casually around his neck and kissing him. You just wouldn't give him a firm answer either way, which was infuriating. "I also accepted the job that we talked about." 

He grinned as you kissed him. "You excited?"

"Very. I start a few days after you leave."

"Damn," he whispered. "I won't even get to be here to drive you on your first day and pack you a peanut butter and jelly sandwich for lunch."

You giggled as Bradley ran his hands down along your dress. And then Noah asked, "Princess? Can I have some ants?" 

"Lasagna first," you told him. "Then some ants."

Bradley cleaned the kitchen after dinner while you played on the driveway with Noah and the bucket of sidewalk chalk. When he came back inside looking cute with pink and green chalk smudges on his face, Bradley took a few photos of him before escorting him to the bath. "Why don't you relax, Princess. I'll get him in bed."

"I'll be in the living room," you told him with a coy smile before you kissed Noah goodnight. Bradley watched you walk away, and he knew you had something up your sleeve. 

He tried not to be impatient, but by the third book, Bradley insisted Noah close his eyes and go to sleep. "Seriously, bub. It's time. Love you."

"Night, daddy." And as usual, his son was asleep before he was out of the room. Bradley pulled the door closed and made his way into the living room where you were standing, waiting for him with a smirk on your pretty lips. 

"Daddy," you whispered, and he was right there kissing you. 

He grabbed your ass in both hands, and between kisses he asked, "Did you use the old camera that you found?"

"Mmhmm."

"Did you take some dirty polaroids?"

"Yes," you replied, suddenly pulling out of his grasp. "But those are strictly for you to take away with you."

He grunted in approval and watched the thin strap of your dress as it slid down your shoulder. But when he reached for you again, you backed away and shook your head. "What?" he whined. "I wanna fuck you, Baby."

Your teeth sank into your plump lip, and you moaned. "I know you do, and so do I. But I have an idea. And I think you might like it."

"You gonna tell me?" he asked softly. 

Bradley was plainly hard in his jeans, and when he put his hands on his hips, you glanced down and grinned. "Okay... I've... never done this before," you whispered, and he throbbed for you. "But I thought you might enjoy some... role playing?"

His brain short circuited. All of the thoughts in his head were gone as you worried your lip with your teeth. It suddenly made sense why you were wearing that particular dress. Role playing. Role playing. You wanted to try some role playing. With him. Right now.

"Tell me more," he rasped, and you took a step closer to him. 

"Well, I already know you have a thing for your babysitter..."

"That's an understatement," he whispered, his voice harsh and his heart pounding. 

"You can be as rough as you want," you whispered. And then he watched you take a deep breath before you cleared your throat. "Oh! Mr. Bradshaw! You're back early. I already put Noah in bed for the night."

You were looking up at him with a somewhat nervous expression as you ran your index finger along your bottom lip. Oh fuck. You were going to let him role play all the filthy shit he thought about when he first hired you to babysit for him. 

"Hey, thanks for watching him tonight. I know it was short notice," Bradley said, and you looked up at him through your eyelashes, somehow looking even more innocent than you usually did. 

"I didn't mind at all, sir. I like babysitting your son. And I... like it when I get to see you, too."

Oh hell, you were too good at this already. And when Bradley reached out to run his knuckles softly along your cheek, you whimpered softly. "I like getting to see you, too, Baby. Getting to look at you was the best part of my day."

Bradley watched you run your fingers down your neck and across the tops of your pretty tits which were on display in that dress. "You're so handsome, Mr. Bradshaw. I think you're sexy."

When he took a step closer, you turned away from him shyly, gazing up at him over your bare shoulder where the strap had fallen down. Bradley got as close to you as he could without actually touching you, and he whispered, "You're gorgeous. Will you let me touch you?"

You whimpered for him. "Yes, sir."

Bradley slowly wrapped his hands around your hips and pressed himself against your ass. "You always smell good. Like wildflowers." He pressed his lips to the side of your neck. Jesus Christ, had he been thinking about this shit from the beginning with you? Pretty close to it. He couldn't believe you were letting him get away with this. 

"Sir?" you whimpered as he brought his hands around to the front of your body, bunching up the fabric of your dress. 

"Tell me," he whispered next to your ear, tasting your neck before brushing his mustache along your pulse point. "How old are you?"

"Eighteen," you whispered, and Bradley's lips paused. 

He kissed you once and cleared his throat. "Princess, can we crank that age up a little bit?" he asked, out of character now. "I mean, it's bad enough that you're only twenty four."

"Okay," you replied with a soft laugh. "I'm twenty one, Mr. Bradshaw."

"Twenty one," he grunted, kissing a path down to your collarbone where he licked you, grinding his erection against you. Then he spun you in his arms so you were facing him. "Pretty face like that, you could get any guy you wanted. Make them do anything you wanted them to do. Love you just the right way."

Your eyes fluttered closed as he brushed your neck with his fingers, and it didn't seem like you were having to try too hard to play along. Which was great, because Bradley was loving this. 

"I don't know about that, Mr. Bradshaw. I've only ever kissed one boy before."

Bradley grunted and wrapped his hand around the front of your neck, angling your face up and stroking your chin with his thumb. "What else did you do with that boy?"

Your eyes were wide as you whispered, "N-Nothing, Mr. Bradshaw."

"Nothing?" he asked, cock throbbing as he waited for you to answer.

You just shook your head gently and said, "No, sir. I'm... I'm a virgin."

The way you were so goddamn convincing was really fucking with him. He would have believed you if he didn't know better. But he was ready to beg for it right now. "Baby," he groaned, wrapping his fingers around to the back of your neck. "I don't want you to think about him anymore. I want you thinking about me." Then he rubbed his nose along yours and listened to the pretty sound you made. "You gonna let me kiss you?"

"Yes." 

His lips met yours, and everything felt familiar and yet totally different. You weren't his girlfriend right now. You were his new, virgin babysitter he was about to fuck the living shit out of. Bradley pulled you close, let you really feel his hardness against your belly, and you moaned into his mouth. 

"You're so sweet, Baby. You gonna let me take you to bed?"

"I want you to, Mr. Bradshaw!"

"Fuck." His hands were up under your dress, easing it higher and higher, confirming you wore no underwear. He kissed you rough and hard, his tongue tangling with yours before he pulled your dress over your head and dropped it onto the floor. Then he proceeded to touch you everywhere. Every pinch of your nipples and soft caress of your ass had you grinding your pussy against the front of his jeans. 

"Daddy!" you whined, and oh, that didn't sound like you were playing along at all. 

He pulled your bottom lip between his and sucked on you as he pressed his fingers to your clit. You were soft and silky. "You're so wet for me." And as he slipped one finger inside you, he whispered, "You gonna let me fuck you, Baby? Show you what you've been missing?"

You looked up at him with parted lips and wrapped your arms around his neck. "Will you be gentle, Mr. Bradshaw? I'm so nervous."

"Oh yeah, Baby. I'll be so gentle." Bradley had no plans to be gentle with you tonight, and he took one of your smaller hands in his and guided it to the fly of his jeans. "I'll stretch you out and fuck you slow. Take you for my own. Make you mine."

You were clinging to his shoulder and riding his hand as you rubbed him. "Mr. Bradshaw," you whined softly. What a sight.

Bradley pinched your clit and asked, "You ever sucked a cock before?"

Those pure, innocent eyes were back, and when you shook your head, Bradley started pushing you down to kneel in front of him. "Good girl," he crooned. You watched him unzip his jeans, and you licked your lips. When his cock was free of his underwear, you gasped. 

"I don't know how," you said, and Bradley almost laughed. You were so good at sucking his dick, it was just impressive. 

"Just give it a try," he whispered, and you took him slowly between your lips. "You're smart. Such a good girl. I'll teach you."

But he didn't need to, because a minute later, you were expertly giving him head and running your own fingers through your pussy. It was mesmerizing, and he tried to stay in character. "That's it. Nice and slow. Suck a little harder. Perfect."

He didn't want to cum in your mouth, even though it felt so good. So he hauled you up to your feet and said, "I want you to show me how you touch yourself in my bed."

You nodded and said, "Okay, Mr. Bradshaw," and then he was carrying you to his room. Once he had you on your back, you came apart further at your own touch, and Bradley started stroking himself. 

You moaned and said, "I think you would do a better job, sir. You always make me cum with I daydream about you." 

Bradley smirked and spread your legs wide before he lowered his face down to your pussy. You pushed your wet fingers back into his hair as he got you clenching almost immediately. He was going to make you cum on his tongue. And then he would fuck you, get himself off with your body just the way he needed to right now. 

When he put a little more pressure on your clit, you cried out. He could feel you gushing, and your cum ran down from your pussy to your asshole. "You're a fucking angel, Baby," he grunted, and you just moaned as he kissed along your slit and started begging. "I need to fuck you. I need to feel your pussy. Please, Baby? I need to be the first one inside you like that."

"You promised you'd go slow," you managed to say. 

"Of course. Anything you want." He kissed his way up your body until his lips were on yours. "You ready for me?" When you nodded beneath him, he ran his cock through your wetness. God, you were probably leaving a spot on the bed. "It might hurt, Baby." And then he pushed himself inside you slowly until you took all of him

You moaned in pleasure, back arching off the bed as you tugged on his hair. He started out nice and slow, giving you time to adjust. "Think you can take a little more? Get a little rough?"

"I-I think so, sir," you whimpered. 

He fucked you hard and fast, and you kissed his lips. "Mr. Bradshaw! You said you'd be gentle with me!"

"I don't think you want me to," he replied, bucking harder against you.

"I-I don't?" you gasped, wrapping one leg around his hips.

"No, that's not how you need it. And you feel too fucking good to go slow. Such a tight little pussy," he growled, pushing your legs wider. "Look at you. Taking me so well for your first time." He was rocking into you harder now. "Breaking you in, just the way I like."

He took your nipple between his lips as you whined, "Daddy."

Then he sucked on you hard until you tugged at his hair. "Come on, Baby. I'm still your boss," he said, withdrawing from your body and getting you onto your hands and knees with your butt in the air. "Let's be professional." He landed a solid smack to your ass and added, "Call me Mr. Bradshaw."

Then he ate you out from behind, his lips and tongue connecting with your pussy until you buried your face in the pillow, your cries of pleasure muffled. God, he was painfully hard now as he got himself in position to take you from behind. As he fucked you, he wrapped his hand around your neck and gently guided you back until your face was away from the pillow. He peppered kisses along your shoulders and the back of your neck as he rode you hard. 

"Shit, Baby. I'm gonna cum," he groaned, grabbing at your hips as he ran his nose along your spine. The slapping sounds were so pretty, he started losing himself now. But he kept it together the best he could as he asked, "Are you on birth control?"

"No, sir," you gasped.

"You want me to cum inside your pussy? Or on your ass?" He squeezed you there as you whined. 

"Please, Mr. Bradshaw. Inside me."

His thrusts were erratic as he felt himself reach his peak. "You better hope you don't get knocked up."

"Oh!" you groaned. "It doesn't matter. I wanna feel you do it inside me."

Bradley filled you up with his cum as he braced himself above you, palms planted next to yours on the bed. As you caught your breath, he pressed kisses to your neck and rubbed his nose along your ear. 

"Did you like that, Daddy?"

He didn't know if you'd ever understand just how much he liked that. "Probably too much, Princess." Carefully, he eased you down on your back next to him, and you curled up on his chest. 

You yawned and whispered, "It was hot. We can do it again sometime. If you want to."

Bradley kissed you and whispered, "I love you," over and over until you fell asleep.

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

Over the next few days, you had taken to calling him Mr. Bradshaw. Every time you did it, you looked at him like you had no idea why his cheeks were flushed pink. Bradley really loved roleplaying with you. He made sure he told you several times just how much. 

But as the days wore on, your insecurity returned. Part of the reason you initiated the virgin experience for him was to try to keep his interest. He was leaving soon, and you wanted some sort of guarantee that he would be thinking about you beyond just your ability to care for Noah. Having a serious boyfriend was one thing, but having a serious boyfriend in the military was starting to make you nervous. What if you weren't enough when he was deployed? What if he lost sight of what was waiting for him at home?

While you were making dinner, he wrapped his arms around you from behind. "Your credit card's here," he whispered, setting the purple card with your name on it on the counter next to the cutting board.

"Thanks," you whispered, suddenly even more insecure. "I can keep track of when I use it, especially for things for myself. And I can pay you back in a few weeks."

"That's not what we agreed on," he said, voice laced with frustration. "Look at me, please." You sighed and set down the spatula and turned around in his arms. He was quiet until you met his eyes, but then he said, "You're smart. I trust you with my kid and my house and my Bronco for extended periods of time. Why would I not trust you with a credit card, Princess? I'm leaving you with a lot of responsibility here, and I need to know that you're buying everything you and Noah need or want. And that includes coloring books, Skittles, pizza, you name it. Whatever you want."

You opened your mouth to respond, but you just kissed him instead. It was hard to get used to the idea of someone caring about you and wanting to take care of you. "I'll just use it for the stuff we need."

"No, you won't," he whispered. "You'll use it for everything. Please."

The way he kissed you had you melting into him. You could probably do what he asked of you, just for two months. And when you finally agreed, you were rewarded with a pretty smile from him. 

You whispered, "I just don't want to take advantage of you."

"You're not."

You closed your eyes and added, "And I'm worried you won't be thinking about me."

Bradley froze, brow creased in confusion. "What do you mean?" Then you immediately wished you'd said nothing. You were embarrassed, but he wasn't going to let it go. "What do you mean, Baby?"

"You know... while you're away."

Bradley started chuckling. His shoulders were shaking with amusement as he tipped his head back. His laughter grew louder, and even Noah looked up from his coloring to see what was going on. 

"Are you making fun of me, old man?" you asked, elbowing him in the side as he roared with laughter. 

"You're a riot, Princess," he finally said, pulling your reluctant body against his. "I don't think about anything else. Just you and Noah on repeat." And then all the laughter was gone from his voice as he ran one big hand down your back. "And isn't that why you pulled out the role play the other night? To try and guarantee that Mr. Bradshaw wouldn't be thinking about anyone else?" he asked softly before kissing along your cheek. 

"Maybe," you replied softly. 

"Hmm," he hummed, his other hand coming up to cup your cheek. "You didn't need to pull out the virgin babysitter to get that guarantee, but I'm glad you did. I'll be thinking about that a lot. I'll be thinking about you all the time. I went a year without sex before I met you. I intend for you to be my last."

The way you whimpered at his words had you slamming your lips together so Noah wasn't distracted again. But that night, when he took you to bed, Bradley worshipped your body. His lips were everywhere, and he was in no hurry. You had no idea how long he kept you in bed, using his lips and words to get you soaking wet. 

"I love you."

"I want you."

"I need you, Princess."

"Let me make you feel good."

"Let me take care of you."

You were at the point of no return when he whispered, "Come sit on Daddy's face."

"Oh," you gasped as Bradley lounged on his back and waited for you with eager eyes. "Won't I hurt you? Or make it hard to breathe?"

"No," he said right away, stroking himself through his underwear. "I'm gonna love it." 

As you crawled over to him and carefully straddled his face, he wrapped his strong arms around your thighs. When you lowered yourself down, you asked, "Is this okay?" But Bradley pulled your pussy snug to his lips and ran his tongue along your slit, and after that, you had to work really hard to keep your volume down. 

You were shaking with overstimulation by the time you realized what he was doing. When you tried to pull away, he tightened his grip on your thighs. "But Daddy-"

It was too late. You squirted for him, getting his mustache and lips soaking wet. He lapped you up which made you shake harder. When he helped ease you down on top of him, you tasted yourself on his face. 

"I'm gonna miss you," he whispered as you ran your tongue across his mustache. "I love eating you out. I love making you cum. I love spending time with you."

You gasped and kissed him softly. "How am I supposed to go without you? How am I supposed to get off without you?"

"Use your hands," he replied. "That's what I'm gonna have to do. Just use your fingers. Or buy some toys with the credit card." He paused before adding, "That's actually a really great use of money. You should buy some toys."

"Stop trying to be my Sugar Daddy," you whispered, lounging on his chest and playing with his hair. 

"I don't want to."

Good. You kind of didn't want him to.

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

The weekend went by in a blur. Bradley helped you move more of your clothing to his house so you'd have it on hand when he was gone. He wrote out phone numbers for Penny, Maverick, Amelia and Nat. And then you called him old and poked fun at him for handwriting something you could have just added to your phone. And then he kissed you until you were moaning for him and insisting he actually wasn't old at all.

He spent the whole day on Sunday with you and Noah. The three of you went to the beach, and Bradley got to see you in a bikini. He insisted on taking some pictures of you. When you got bashful, he whispered that they were for his locked photo album, and he was going to use them in conjunction with his hand. 

"You're filthy, Daddy. You can't get enough."

You weren't wrong. 

As Bradley built a sandcastle with his son late in the afternoon, you and he went over the final list of things he needed for when he left in the morning. He saw you try to discreetly tuck an envelope into his duffle bag last night, and when he went to check, it was sealed. And you had written For My Daddy on the front of it. It took every ounce of his self control to put it back where he found it and pretend he didn't know it was there. 

After the beach, the three of you picked up dinner and watched a movie together, and then Bradley put Noah in bed for the last time for weeks and weeks. He stayed in there a little longer than usual, watching his son sleep and counting his blessings. He had sole custody. You had temporary guardianship. The orders of protection had come through for you and for Noah. Tracy had been correct that he would be denied, but it didn't much matter. He was about to be isolated on an aircraft carrier with only naval personnel in sight. He would be just fine.

And then Bradley fell asleep with your hands wrapped around him and your soft voice telling him you loved him. But the next morning, it was a different story. Noah didn't fully understand what was going on, he just knew Bradley would be gone for a while and that Princess would be staying with him. But you on the other hand had tears in your eyes as you made breakfast in one of your cute little dresses. And you kept your arms wrapped around Bradley as frequently as you could. 

"It's going to be okay," he assured you. "You have the orders of protection, and the credit card, and the checkbook. You can use the Bronco. You and Noah have everything you'll need."

You cried and looked up at him like he was very dense. "We won't have you!" The sound of the little sob at the back of your throat made him tighten his grip on you. He wanted to tell you that everything would be fine, and that you and Noah would have each other, but part of Bradley loved the way you needed him. 

He held your hand the whole way to drop Noah off at daycare and even while he gave his son a final goodbye kiss. He held your hand as he drove to the shipyard where the aircraft carrier looked enormous in the water. And he was still holding your hand when you crawled across the seat to straddle his lap. God, you were perfect, shedding tears quietly and telling him you loved him. 

"I love you, too. We can handle this," he promised, and you nodded as you traced the scars on his neck with your soft fingers. 

As he ran his thumb along your cheek and kissed you there, he felt your hands drift down the front of his khaki uniform shirt. "One more time? Please?" you asked so softly as you pressed your core against his rapidly hardening cock through his pants. 

Bradley glanced to his left and his right where the parking lot was starting to fill up. "Baby, I don't know if we should-" he started, but you already had his pants unzipped, and you were guiding his length toward your warmth. "Oh, hell."

You guided him up inside you, the illicit activity barely covered by the flimsy fabric of your dress. Anyone who could see would know what was going on inside the Bronco right now, but Bradley didn't care. He loved you. He was going to miss you. And you were sending him off with your sweet tears, lingering kisses and a slow fuck as the sun peaked over the tower of the carrier. 

"I'll miss you, Daddy," you whispered, your lips brushing his mustache as his hands found your bare hips beneath the fabric. He cupped your body, guided the soft roll of your hips, and his mind drifted briefly. He imagined filling you with his cum with the added intention of getting you pregnant. He imagined you asking him to do that. He imagined getting married. 

"Princess," he groaned, kissing along your chest as your pussy clenched for him. "I need you. All the time." He met your soft eyes as you came undone in his arms, your jerky little bounces drawing out his orgasm as well. There was only a minute left to clean up, and then you and he were walking hurriedly to the dock hand in hand. 

He kissed you long and hard, trying his best to leave no doubt in your mind that you were everything. He let you cling to him as long as he could, but then he had to leave you behind with his cum in your pussy and his kiss on your lips. "I love you, Princess!" he shouted from the top of the ramp. "I love you so much!"

Your smile was just for him, and he knew it.

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

Oh, her nerves are getting the best of her. He doesn't want anyone else. But she thinks she has something to prove to him. Hope you enjoy your fic, @beyondthesefourwalls And thank you @mak-32 !

PART 30

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[beenbaanbuun]

Hey!! I just read your most recent Addams!MATZ fic and the angst is DELICIOUS. Your talent for writing is incredible and your creativity really shines through with each and every fic. The fluff, angst, and even the smut are so wonderfully well done, you're one of my favorite ATEEZ writers.

If you're up to it, and feel free to ignore this, but I'd love to see a part two to the angst Addams!MATZ where seonghwa talks to hongjoong and hongjoong comes to apologize. If that's not something you see yourself continuing, I completely understand!

Make sure to keep yourself healthy and hydrated and get plenty of rest.

thank you for the compliments!!! they mean the world to me. i’m glad that my passion for writing and my love for these boys shines through in my work. here is a continuation <333

——————————————————————————

seonghwa doesn’t even bother to knock before barging into his husbands office. yes, he thinks anger is an ugly emotion, but that doesn’t mean he is immune to it. in fact, it’s the only thing running through him as he steps through the doorway and slams the heavy slab of oak behind him. hongjoong hasn’t shown you the courtesy of being polite; why should seonghwa show his husband the same.

upon hearing the bang of the door, the overworked businessman turns around, pen still in hand and glasses low on his nose. he was half expecting to see your feisty little self again, but instead he’s met with the sight of his husband. if it weren’t for the sneer that twisted up his husbands pretty face, he might’ve explained the same thing he’d tried explaining to you. something tells him that seonghwa wouldn’t have appreciated being told ‘i’m busy, i’ll come and talk to you when i’m finished designing these pieces.’

“what’s wr—” hongjoong doesn’t even get to finish before seonghwa cuts him off with a scoff and a petty roll of the eyes. it’s hardly like him to wear his emotions on his sleeve, and yet hongjoong can see each one of them clear as day. hurt, anger, disappointment; emotions that he never wants anyone he cares about to feel. his heart sinks just a touch as he realises who those emotions are aimed towards.

“you are a piece of work, hongjoong,” seonghwa spits, sounding beautiful even with venom laced through his voice. hongjoong knows that’s the last thing he should be thinking right now, but he can hardly help admiring his husband, even when he is seething. it takes the man a second or two to knock himself free of the love-induced haze and allow the words to sink in. “do you think you’re in the right for yelling at our darling? do you think that just because you’re overworking yourself it gives you the right to make her cry?”

hongjoong’s world comes to a standstill. the clock on the wall stops ticking, the heart in his chest stops beating, and most importantly, for the first time in weeks, the brain in his head stops thinking. finally, finally, it’s no longer filled with a myriad of complex ideas, each one overlapping yet individual in its own right. finally he just has one singular thought. it’s just a shame it isn’t a good one.

he made you cry…

hongjoong made you cry…

it repeats in his head, over and over like a mantra. it taunts him, the idea that he’d upset you so much feeling like nails on a chalkboard. his hairs stand on end and his breath catches in his throat. lord below, what has he done.

“where is she?” his voice is weak, pathetic, nothing like he usually sounds. seonghwa has to admit that his resolve takes a hit when he hears it leave his loves mouth. he reminds himself to remain strong; your pain is his priority right now. “seonghwa, please—”

“take a guess, hongjoong,” seonghwa replies, once again cutting his husband off. this time it wasn’t out of anger but of fear that he might cave if he has to listen to hongjoong’s heartbroken pleas for much longer. the pained look on his face is enough to send seonghwa’s heart into overdrive; he doesn’t need any more distractions from the real reason he’s here. “where might you usually find her when she isn’t with one of us?”

the rug in front of the fire—jongho.

hongjoong almost feels ashamed that he even had to ask; he should’ve realised the second you silently left his office that you’d gone to seek comfort in your favourite onikuma. realistically, though, he should’ve realised a lot of things. it hurts him to know that he was too focused on work to do so.

he stands, and he’s grateful when seonghwa shifts to the side to allow him past, even going as far as to re-open the heavy door for him. hongjoong isn’t quite sure he deserves the soft hand that’s placed against his back as he walks through the doorway, but he appreciates it nonetheless. now isn’t the time to be wondering how he ended up with such a beautiful individual as a soulmate, but he finds himself lingering on that thought as the two of them begin their journey to the living room. it’s hard not to when the warmth of seonghwa’s touch never once leaves him.

in fact, it’s only when the two of them step through the archway that seonghwa gives a small shove to the bottom of hongjoong’s spine before going to reclaim his spot on the couch. with a single nod in your direction, seonghwa redirects his husband’s attention and hongjoong lets his gaze flicker to the floor.

the first thing he’s met with is a glare from the mutt he’d been so reluctant to allow into his abode. normally, the beast would be scolded for being so bold as to openly disrespect his master, but he let it slide this time. he can hardly tell him not to give him the attitude he so clearly deserves. in fact, this is light compared to what he would’ve expected from the overprotective creature.

at least hongjoong knows he’ll make a wonderful guard dog…

“dove,” hongjoong coos softly as he dips down to your level. he can’t remember the last time he’d sat on the floor, but this feels necessary. the closeness is something that he finds himself craving, wanting nothing more than to have you next to him again. he won’t lie and claim that the sole purpose of this is to comfort you; he needs it too, to stave off the guilt that has begun to eat him alive. “can you look at me?”

there’s a certain element of pain in his voice that tells you he’s being sincere. that he truly does feel remorse for how he treated you. whether or not it’s seonghwa that forced it upon him, you don’t particularly care. all you want is to feel hongjoong’s warmth again, so you listen. you turn your head until your watery eyes meet his.

“there she is,” he gives you a humourless chuckle, a sad smile twisting the corners of his mouth up and the corners of his eyebrows down. the warmth of his hand as he places it on your cheek is comforting; more so than any words he could say. you just need him close. he seems to realise that as he turns to the werewolf, dangerously aware of the way his ears twitch angrily above his head. “may i take her, yeosang? i promise i’ll be gentle with her.”

“you weren’t gentle with her earlier,” yeosang growls, behaving more akin to what hongjoong expects from him. it almost has hongjoong flinching back in fear of yet another bite-shaped bruise on his hand.

“that’s true, but i would like i make it up to her,” hongjoong is soft as he speaks, less so for the sake of the angry mutt, and more for the sake of you. he doesn’t want you to see any more anger from him. “besides i really think it should be my little dove’s decision as to whether i get to hold her, don’t you?” yeosang snarls, huffing in dismay as he unravels his arms from you and lets hongjoong swoop you into his. manipulation never really has been the man’s style, but he has to admit that it works wonders with the mutt. use you as leverage, and yeosang will behave like a fully trained lapdog. he’s just like them in that respect; so desperate to make you happy that they’d risk everything, dignity included.

it’s not hard for you to let yourself be passed around like some kind of teddy bear as a pose to a real, living human. you’re tired from crying, not to mention desperate for the confirmation that you’re still hongjoong’s good girl. in fact, as hongjoong tugs you into his grasp like a rag doll, you find yourself leaning into his grasp. it’s so soft compared to his sharp words and cutting tone earlier, and his familiar scent of spices fills your nostrils. it dizzies you, but hongjoong is there to catch you…

“i’m sorry,” he whispers into your ear as he pulls you up to straddle his crossed legs, “my darling dove, will you forgive me?”

you don’t answer. you don’t find it necessary to. the way you see it there’s nothing to forgive; you annoyed him, he yelled at you. it’s give and take, and despite your emotions getting the better of you, you refuse to place the blame on hongjoong. not all of it, at least.

“only if you forgive me too,” is the answer you finally settle on, mumbling it into his neck. he squirms a little at the tickling sensation, and in your own mind, you find yourself thinking he’s cute.

“you have nothing to forgive, my dove,” he answers, “but if it will make you forgive me, then yes; i forgive you…”

[phoenixblaze1412]

Hello there!!!👋

May I ask for some angst?

Dottore spending time with his biological child and the more the day progresses he sees his wife (who died a few day after giving birth to their child) in their child (A headcanon and/or small scenario plz)

Thank you!!!

Gonna make me cry anon.. also might have changed it a bit.

Taking care of a kid is a difficult task for Dottore himself. Especially if it was his own. A healthy baby girl, how ironic that she looked exactly the same as you. Neither of you didn't expect such a tragedy to happen, mostly him.

"Sir, she won't be able to make it." Omega stated, watching over your vital signs. Your body was currently too weak to deliver the baby, and being in labor wasn't helping a lot.

"Then let the child die. I'd rather lose the kid than lose my wife." Dottore snapped as he quickly went and placed an oxygen mask over you, tucking away the lose strands of your hair away from your face. He was quick to notice your breathing becoming more heavy and labored.

"Both her and the child will die if we continue with that idea!" the Theta segment exclaimed.

The three of them were quick to shut up when they heard your pained groans. Immediately examining and looking you over to at least lessen the pain you were experiencing but still keeping you conscious.

Dottore was already in a state of anger and worry, thinking up of multiple solutions to get the child out of you all the while keeping you alive but that seems to be difficult since you don't even have the strength to push the baby out so maybe a c-section will do but the chance of you dying is big. He was quick to come out of his thoughts when you grabbed his arm, making him focus his attention to you.

"Zandik please.. promise me you won't let our baby die."

He let out a deep sigh before nodding at your request. Even at times like these, he could never say no to you. He called over a few more segments to begin your surgery. A simple c-section, nothing to worry about right? But why was he, he of all people suddenly felt fear as he held the scalpel upon your stomach.

It's not right. He knows this will end up badly if he continued, he already felt it. Snapping out of his thoughts once more when he heard you cry out in pain, he nodded to his segments to sedate you for a bit as he began the operation.

Seconds turned to minutes, minutes turned to hours. Every segment waited anxiously as they watched their creator work strenuously. The once silent room was filled with small cries as Dottore held his newborn child, dirty from all the blood and amniotic fluid but alive and well. Iota walked over to take the baby from Dottore to clean her up as the doctor went and stitched you up while the other segments who were present had cheerful grins along their faces.

Their happiness was quickly cut off the moment they heard the sound of your heart monitor dropping. Dottore glanced up and glared at Omega, cursing under his breath as he finished stitching you up to help Omega with keeping you stable.

"You incompetent fool! I gave you one job!"

Panic. That's what they're all feeling the moment when you became cardiac asystole. Dottore and Omega resuscitating you the best they can, even using electro to give your heart a shock to at least show any heart rhythm but none came.

"(Y/N) please wake up! You can't leave me! Come on! Your child- our child is safe and awake now it's your turn to wake up please!"

It's been fifteen minutes max with no signs of you showing any heartbeat, the segments could only look away, not wanting to cry in front of you. The sudden weight being placed upon them at the news of your death was overbearing.

Even Iota couldn't believe it. But even so, he couldn't cause any tantrums, he couldn't yell or even throw anything out of anguish. He was holding your child at the moment. The baby you left to them before you passed. It took him a few minutes to calm the baby down and wrap her up in a blanket.

Meanwhile Dottore was still leaning over your figure, his hand held yours as he leaned his forehead against your knuckles. Both of your wedding rings, glimmering against the light.

Dottore knew something bad was going to happen. He felt it bubbling in his guts yet he let it happen. The moment Iota walked back into the room with his daughter in his hold, Dottore glared at them.

"I don't want to see that thing near me. Dispose of it immediately. Give it to the Knave or send it someplace else."

Iota was quick to snap at the order, sure he's still in despair about losing you like how the others feel but his creator telling him to dispose of your own offspring is not what he expected to hear.

"What are you thinking?! (Y/N) carried your child for months, having to go through all the hardships a pregnant woman would go through and here you are disposing her efforts?!"

"I already knew from the start that saving the child would end up with her death! I would have preferred to save her instead of the child!"

"Would she want you to?! You know her well enough to know that she would rather risk herself in danger to save a life! She already said it herself before the operation! You promised her not to let the child die!"

Dottore was quick to shut up, looking over at the little figure bundled up in the blankets. Thoughts filled with 'what if's' as he looked back at your figure on the examining bed.

What if he chose to save you instead of his child? Would you even be happy towards him if you knew about his plans?

A soft coo was heard as Iota looked down at the baby before carefully handing her over to Dottore. The doctor was hesitant at first but he took the chance to hold his own child in his arms. The baby let out little babbles and gargles as her hands reach out to the doctor and tried to grab at his hair.

Dottore observed her actions, looking over her features and letting out a bitter laugh at how his own daughter had most of your features. It's like the gods are being cruel and making his own heart hurt more than it already is.

"From now on, your name will be ■■■■. (Y/N) thought of that name for you."

"Papa? Wake up!"

Dottore slowly opened his eyes and noticed he had fallen asleep on the grass. Finally remembering that he was joining his daughter in the forests of Sumeru to look for some flowers. He was assigned on a mission to take the dendro, along with the electro gnosis back as soon as possible but his daughter wanted to explore a bit and take a break.

Dottore glanced up and squinted his eyes as he stared up at the figure leaning over him. Eyes widening in surprise as he stared at you, the light shining brightly from behind you made you look so angelic and beautiful. He continued to stare at you, tears pricking the corner of his eyes, your face so full of life and a grin plastered on your face as you looked back at him.

He tried to reach his hand out to you but you quickly vanished the moment he blinked and was now staring at his four year old daughter.

"Are you okay papa? Why are you crying?"

Dottore was quick to wipe the tears away from his eyes as he sat up and looked over his child. Oh how he misses you so. Everytime he looks and talks to his child it felt like it was him talking to you instead. Your looks, the way you talk, even your attitude was passed onto your daughter.

He could only laugh at the idea that if you were still with them, he would be having two of the most sassiest women in Teyvat in his life. He got up on his feet and ruffled his daughter's hair.

"Have you gotten what you needed, little one?"

"Mhm! I finally got these flowers! Iota told me all about them and I wanted to take some home myself."

She held up a bouquet of padisarah flowers, the doctor could only stare in surprise at how she even got them, moreso why did Iota even told her about it.

"Iota told me how they were mama's favorite flowers and showed me pictures of her holding them. He told me how you would always gift her a bouquet of these whenever you came back from Sumeru and I wanted to give these to mama too... can I give these to her? Will mama like it?"

"...she would love them a lot, my child. Now come on, once I finished my mission then we can visit your mother and give her these gifts. She would be happy to receive these flowers from you."

[heresan]

At the sound of your soft wince as you sustain a paper cut from flipping through the pages of your book, Wriothesley is immediately on you. The scratching of his pen comes to a stop, paperwork soon forgotten, his chair grinding backwards and he approaches your comfortable form lounging on the couch. He's bending down on one knee before you as he gently brings the small wound in question into his view.

"Sweetheart, you need to be more careful. Let me see it." You can make out the anxious furrow in his brows, as he firmly yet gently takes your wrist and unfurls your fingers to examine the damage. You tell him it's really not a huge deal and you're fine but he asserts that he wouldn't tolerate you receiving even the tiniest scratch on his watch. After a moment, he sighs softly and a relieved smile appears on his face. "Well, it's not as bad as I feared. Just hang on tight while I go grab a medical kit."

Wriothesley quickly head towards his desk and shuffles through the drawers to retrieve the first aid that he keeps on hand for times he doesn't want Sigewinne making a fuss and lecturing him. He returns back to your side and gets to work, cleaning the new wound with a cotton wool and an antiseptic solution before applying a topical ointment and bandaging your finger. You could feel him gently patting your hand before he smiles warmly at you, "There, that's better."

"Thank you, my love. You really didn't have to do that. But I suppose it's only fair I accept your help in treating my paper cut after all those times I'd walk into your office to a new injury on your face or body." You say with a teasing lilt in your voice, your eyes darting from your treated finger to your lover with the corners of your mouth upturned.

"I'm only fulfilling my duties as your boyfriend to take care of you, sweetheart." He then chuckles, recalling back to those memories where he'd brush off your worries and reassures you it's nothing serious, and he just had a little "chat" with one of those prisoners who got a little too uppity. But he allows you to tend to him anyway because he secretly loves the attention. "I could never forget about how concerned you were over a simple bruise I once had."

At this feeling of tenderness, Wriothesley interlace your fingers together and press a kiss to your knuckles. His thumb caressing your skin in a sweet gesture of affection. "We both just care about each other a little too much, don't we?"

You want to respond with something clever but soften in the same breath as you do. "I'd argue it's a reasonable and perfectly normal amount of caring... But yeah, I suppose we do."

[mangoshorthand]

Hii I'm a real sucker for your smuts and I was wondering if you could do a five one where he walks in on reader riding their pillow and thinking about him while doing it (and they haven't had intercourse in a long while because of apocalypse stuff and all that) and the aftermath where you can do anything with it after but I'd really like it if five was being gentle to the reader :<

Sorry this is a long req I hope you write it and it's okay if you dont wanna, thankiee 🫶

Your welkiee! Hope you enjoy. 😊 Lucky Fucking Pillow | Five Hargreeves/ F Reader 3k words, Rated E

It had been four weeks: four fearful, lonely, miserable weeks. You felt stupid, irritated with him. You hated the fact you were waiting at home for him like the sweetheart of a world war two vet, living on the letters he sent from the front lines. 

You held it together until just before he left, duffel bag over his shoulder.

“The situation’s dangerous; unpredictable. I don’t know when I’ll be back.”

On the floors below you, you could hear a bustle of activity as his siblings made similar preparations to leave.

“Why is this your responsibility?”

He looked at you, disbelievingly, the hand not supporting the bag went directly into his pocket.

“This is the world. Am I supposed to sit at home and wait to be subsumed by another apocalypse?”

You shook your head, bringing your knees up to your chest, not able to articulate what you were feeling.

“Let me come with you then.”

He let out an exasperated sigh, picked up the last of his morning coffee and knocked it back, shaking his head. 

“I’m not having this discussion again. I’d want you beside me in anything else, but not in this. If anything happened to you, I’d never forgive myself. Your best chance of survival is staying well away.”

“What if you die? What am I supposed to do?”

From slight irritation, he softened further. Bending from the waist, he kissed your forehead.

“I love you, okay.”

He crossed to the door, but a strangled sob made him turn back. Your face was suddenly red, tear-streaked. When you spoke, the words tore themselves from a tight throat. 

“Don’t go!” 

He closed his eyes, hand still on the door handle. He let out a breath and dropped the duffel bag, turning back around, crossing the room in two strides and holding you close, your head against his chest.

“I have to, angel. I’m so sorry.”

Since then, your days had been spent scouring the horizon for impending doom and following the news incessantly for any hints of what was going on. Your nights had been spent sleepless, remembering Five’s caresses and trying to get your head around the fact that you and everyone else could die at any moment.

You at least knew he wasn’t dead. He got messages to you sporadically; short dispatches from the field. They appeared mostly via an ancient telegraph machine stowed in Reginald’s old office. The most recent of these hadn’t been very encouraging:

We’ve got a plan, but it’s tenuous. If it doesn’t work, we’ll really be fucked. If that’s the case, then I hope to see you on the other side, -F x

smut below cut

They were four sexless weeks too. You quickly discovered that it takes more than the threat of imminent death to crush the human capacity for horniness. Before that month, you would have thought it would be a deluge of cold water on your libido, but that was far from the case. 

On the contrary, knowing that time could be short, all you could think about was having Five in your arms again: running your hands all over his body, the feeling of his lips on yours and the sensations of his lovemaking. 

As you lay in bed, his phantom was a heavy, intoxicating presence. Your need for him was strong tonight. You rolled to look at his empty side of the bed and imagined his head on the pillow. His eyes (that fickle forest green that masqueraded as blue in some lights and brown in others), you imagined them shaded by his hair. You saw his raised eyebrow, his smile, soft and suggestive, with the dimple that only appeared on one side of his face, recessing two large freckles by his mouth.

You pulled his pillow to you and buried your face in it. It smelled of him. You inhaled it deeply: his aftershave, his antiperspirant, his shampoo, a hint of coffee and something more  indefinable: a more fundamental scent that was all him.

It was this last smell that made your stomach flip, that made you breathe in the scent of the pillow again. It awakened something primal in you: ripples from your center outwards; flutters down each of your limbs. 

Before you knew it, you were stripping off your panties and kneeling up in bed. One hand held his pillow to your face and the other held your own pillow between your legs. When you started to grind, it was him beneath you. In imagination, he was teasing you: not allowing you to get on his dick until you came from humping his leg.

It wasn’t enough friction, so you sped up your hips, snapping them back and forth desperately. There was a whisper of something, a tingle from your neglected pussy, so you chased it, sinking deeper into the fantasy and imagining his hands squeezing your hips, guiding you as you rode him.

“Oh, Five,” you whispered, feeling your body begin to respond, wetness gathering between your labia, “Five, fuck.”

You threw your head back and closed your eyes.

“Hm,” said an approving voice from the doorway, “that lucky fucking pillow.”

You gave a violent start, dropped his pillow and turned around. There he was, framed in the open doorway. You gave a grateful, ecstatic cry.

“Five!” 

In nothing but your t-shirt, you were across the room in a leap and bound and throwing yourself against him, holding him to you with sudden, tight urgency.

He immediately stiffened and let out a sharp groan of pain. You loosened your grip

“Oh my god, what happened? You’re hurt! Are you okay? Is it over? Is everyone okay? Is the world okay?”

He was holding himself stiffly, but now his pain had faded, his face was amused. He leaned forward and kissed your lips. On your side, the kiss was desperate, joy-filled; on his, more passionate. His tongue flicked between your lips before he broke away.

“How about this? l answer each of your questions if, each time, you answer me one in return?” he said, smirking. 

“I’ve missed you.”

“I’ve missed you too,” he said, smiling gently, “but that wasn’t a question.”

You were too happy to see him to have space to be irritated by this game.

“Fine. What happened to you?”

He moved as if to put his bag down on the chair. Seeing his wince, you took it off him and placed it there yourself.

“Thanks. It’s just a wound. There was an explosion. I was hit by a piece of flying steel.”

“Shit,” you whispered, looking down at his chest and the bandages that must be underneath his shirt, “oh my god, are you okay?”

“Hey,” he admonished, “it’s your turn to answer a question now. What were you doing when I came in?”

You looked at him with annoyance.

“You know what I was doing.”

“Yes,” he smirked, “I want to hear you describe it.”

“I was masturbating.”

“How were you masturbating?” he pushed.

“It’s my turn to ask a question now,” you said, using his own tactic against him, “How long will it take to heal? Are you seriously hurt?”

“That was two questions,” he said, stepping towards you, “but I’m feeling generous: I’m not seriously hurt. It’s a flesh wound. It’ll heal nicely.”

You looked at him with concern and he shook his head with a smile. 

“Now it’s my turn: what exactly were you thinking about when you were humping that pillow?”

“You,” you mumbled, “I missed you.”

“What exactly? You didn’t answer properly.”

You feel your face flush.

“I was thinking about fucking you. On top. Riding you.”

Five’s smirk grew, biting his lip and raising his eyebrows suggestively. You hurried on.

“Is the family okay?”

“All present and correct.” he said, moving even closer to you and stroking your hip in gentle circles.

It was a long, long month without you. There was barely time to think, let alone have the privacy for any ‘self care’ sessions of his own. Now that it was all over, his dick was complaining rather vocally about this neglect; insisting that if it didn’t get inside something warm and tight within the next five minutes, it would be most seriously displeased with the rest of him. 

As if to punctuate the point, it was now requisitioning rather a lot of blood from his brain, leaving him rock hard and almost lightheaded with the rush. 

“You’re so horny for me, aren’t you? Humping your pillow like a dirty little girl?”

“Was that a question?”

“Yes.”

You sighed as his hand snaked around to your ass. He stroked one of your buttocks up and down slowly, palm cupping the curve of your skin.

“Then yes: I’m horny for you.”

“How horny?” he said, immediately, squeezing you gently.

“Did you save the world?”

“Are you wet for me?” he said, huskily.

The fingertips of his other hand came to rest on your thigh. His eyes, dark in the low light of the bedroom, captured yours and held them firmly, authoritatively.

“If you’re not going to answer my question, I’ll have to find out for myself.” 

You looked back at him and his lips twitched. Slowly, he walked his middle and index fingers between your legs and parted your labia. He let out a low ‘oh’ as he felt the sopping folds waiting for him.

A jolt twitched down the boner now pressing insistently against the crotch of his pants. 

“How about you ditch the pillow and have a piece of the real thing?”

His fingers slipped slickly up and down your slit and you nodded, trying not to let your knees go weak. Your hands came to the hem of your shirt, pulled it over your head and discarded it so that you were standing naked before him. 

As your breasts bounced free, his befuddled mind could only think how much he’d missed them. He bent forward eagerly to try and take a nipple into his mouth, but froze mid-stoop with a wince and harsh intake of breath.

“Ow. Shit.”

He straightened up slowly, stiffly and leaned against the door, experimentally stretching out his limbs.

“You okay?” you said, worried. 

“I’m fine.” he muttered, hand over his injury, “Got a bad case of hornybrain. Made me forget I was impaled by a steel bar for a hot second there.”

You winced in sympathy and rubbed his clothed stomach in circles. When the pain had abated and he was again looking at you with lust behind his eyes, you leaned in and whispered to him.

“Looks like you’re going to have to stay still and let me do all the work.”

His lips parted but no words came out, for once unable to think of anything cocky to say. You could see the glisten of saliva on his tongue. You smirked and lowered yourself so that you were kneeling in front of him.

He laid his head against the door and exhaled as you deftly freed him of his pants and let them fall to his ankles. He squeezed his eyes closed, thoroughly undone by the mere suggestion of being sucked. He was even hornier than he realized. 

He groaned in a strange mix of satisfaction and need as you licked him through his underwear, using one hand to pull the fabric taught around the thick five and a half inches imprinted there in harsh relief. The stretch and your saliva made the white material semi transparent and you felt a pleasant twist in your stomach as the hint of soft, flushed skin beneath. You lost yourself, aware of nothing but the perfect outline of his glans beneath your tongue and the heady, pheromonal smell of him. 

He made another tight, needy sound as you put your lips around his still-clothed head.

“Please.”

How could you refuse him? Pulling at the elastic and reaching in, you pulled him out to twitch in the open air. It looked painfully hard, as always curving slightly to your left but otherwise sticking straight out like an exclamation point to his arousal.

Slowly, still inhaling that intoxicating scent, you took him into your mouth, slowly sucking him. You hummed appreciatively at his solid, hot skin between your lips. You were in heaven there, happy to keep sucking him as long as he’d let you.

“You don’t know how much I need this,” he said, weakly, knees buckling as you built to a steady rhythm. You paid close attention to his head, enjoying the little pop it made as it left the tight seal of your lips.

He looked down at you with hazy eyes, watching the way your lips pouted as you slid your lips up his length. When you caught his eyes, the pupils suddenly widened and he immediately looked away, head snapping straight back to look up at the ceiling.

“I can’t look at you right now,” he breathed, by way of explanation, “You’re too perfect; I’ll come too fast.”

You flushed, glowing with his praise. Though Five was a loving partner, his compliments were usually hidden beneath layers of self-consciousness and sarcasm. Him saying this now was evidence of how overwhelmed he was: inhibitions swept away in the rush of reunion. 

Slowly, you withdrew and laid your head against his stomach so that his cock rested on your cheek. You looked up at him adoringly, simultaneously enjoying the intensity of his arousal and giving him time to calm down.

“I love you Five.”

“I love you too, baby.” he said, voice breathy and hoarse, “Now, please god, take me to bed and treat me like that pillow.”

You smiled, rose to your feet and led him to the bed, helping him out of the pants around his ankles. Standing by his side of the bed, you kissed his lips gently, enjoying the way his dick stabbed and pressed periodically at your thighs. When you broke apart, you looked into his eyes, at his soft look with his thick eyelashes shading his eyes. 

Aware of his injury, you supported him as he lay down, helping him to ease onto the mattress with the bare minimum of pain. His solid presence in your arms as he let you assist him was bliss.

Though you were being careful not to place any weight where it would hurt him, he pulled you into his arms. 

“Please,” he whispered, “I want you to fuck me. Ride me. Just use me to get off. Use me like a goddamn dildo. I don’t care.  I need you.”

You smirked at this.

“Who are you and what have you done with Five?”

“Please.”

More begging. You didn’t have it in you to tease him, not when you too were desperate to feel his body against yours, to feel him inside you, to mingle your sighs and your pleasure with his.

You slipped him inside you and gasped. The resumption of this perfect coupling alone told you just how much you needed it. You knew you missed it, but now he was inside you again, you realized that it made you whole. His small keen as he slid home was enough to send a fluttering shudder from your center outwards.

“Let me take care of you,” you whispered, leaning close to him.

He nodded, biting his lower lip and caressing your hips.

Slowly, you began to grind against him, rolling your hips with him inside you, moving on top of him just as you did the pillow. This time, it really was Five beneath you, his cock twitching inside you, hitting and charging that sweet spot inside you until it felt like you were buzzing with his electricity.

“Oh fuck,” you moaned, “Five!”

“I-don’t-deserve you,” he panted, “So perfect. Perfect. Beautiful girl…so goddamn sexy. I love you. I-fucking- Ah!”

He always got more talkative yet less coherent the closer he got. He was watching your swinging breasts, hanging a few inches above his face. You leaned forwards immediately, keen to give him what he couldn’t take for himself a few minutes before.

He took the hint eagerly, taking your nipple into his mouth and groaning along with you at the change of angle. He suckled enthusiastically, hungrily; hand leaving your hip to rub your breast with his palm. 

His groans now sent miniature, warm vibrations onto your nipple, creating a new center for charge to build upon. As it crackled down your limbs, stoking the heat in your stomach and groin, you moaned, wanting to ride him hard- ride him like a bike - but you were reluctant to let loose in case you hurt him. 

Instead, you rolled your hips upon him desperately. Judging by the sudden shout from him and the ache from your pussy, this motion was to both of your liking. You were on the edge now, teetering.

“Gonna come. Gonna come.” he whispered, urgently, removing his mouth from your titty with a wet sound.

He meant this to warn you but, instead, his desperate voice gave you the final push.

As you came, your pussy clenched, squeezing him suddenly. His eyes shot open and he all-but squealed at the unexpected stimulation. His hips surged upwards, the pain from his chest eclipsed for the moment by this maddening, raging orgasm. It felt like your pussy was milking it from him, pulling his rapid shots of come up into itself. 

At last, you came to a stop. 

“Is the world safe?” you asked, after a warm breathless minute or two.

“Yes,” he said weakly, “the world’s all okay.”

You carefully climbed off him, laid beside him and held him. There was the fresh smell of his shampoo and antiperspirant. The smell of home if ever there was one.  After a minute or two becoming heavier in your arms, he spoke again.

“Well, the world’s certainly all okay now.”

He stroked your stomach as if you were made of paper-thin glass, inclining his head towards yours as he spoke again.

"I meant what I said: you are perfect, you know."

Request masterlist >> HERE

NOTE:

I take Five requests, I'm fairly versatile in what I write (fluff, smut, angst, psychological character study- I'll try it all) but I will consider them on a case by case basis. See masterlist for request status and more.

[teatreeoilll]

|| Movie Night (Gojo Satoru X Reader) ||

(Reposted from my old blog which I don't have access to anymore (thanks Tumblr), if you liked it reblogs or likes would be appreciated to get me back on track since I've lost all my followers and half my work :(

Gojo Satoru swears that watching movies is the best training method, and that's all it is, just training, really. Fluff with slight innuendos.

W/C - 1.3 K

"You think we're what?" Nanami's eyebrow cocked up as soon as you spoke. He shot a helpless look at Haibara who was standing over him, leaning his weight on the hand he placed on the desk, entranced by the praise hidden in your request.

The few months since you've started attending Jujutsu High have passed in the blink of an eye. The curves of the hallways became more familiar as you found your way through the maze with ease, a day-to-day routine carefully forming when you began to befriend your classmates, the solemn-looking Nanami Kento and his enthusiastic friend Haibara Yu, awed by their rapidly increasing strength.

The two of them, together with your upper-classmen whom you've only briefly encountered, always looked like they had noble reasons for being in the Jujutsu world - and although it always felt too rude to ask what they were, your reasons for attending the school had paled in comparison to the things you've imagined.

"I think you're strong," you smile awkwardly, "and I was wondering if you have any advice - to - you know, help me get stronger too."

"I don't think I'm the right person to ask," Nanami shied away from the request, tugging on his uniform to distract himself.

"Don't worry!" Haibara cut into the conversation, the smile plastered on his face melting the awkwardness you felt, "You should talk to our upper-classmen, I heard one of them is the strongest sorcerer they've seen in hundreds of years. I'm sure he'll have something useful to say!"

Hibara's expression changes as soon as you walk out of the classroom with a newly found determination to find the strongest.

"Wait," he furrowed his brows at Nanami, placing his thumb on his chin, "D'you think she thinks I think she's weak?"

"I think you should stop thinking so much."

-

"Weak? Yeah, I can see that." Gojo's careless words earn him an elbow to his ribs from his friend Geto, who smiled sheepishly at you while mumbling; quit teasing the juniors, Satoru.

"He doesn't mean it like that," Geto assures you, but the confidence you felt first approaching them on their break between classes vanished just as fast as it came. You manage to let out a bashful chuckle, suddenly aware of the afternoon sun burning mercilessly at your back.

"But I do," the white-haired sorcerer grumbles back at his friend, pulling off his shades to wipe them on the side of his uniform, "She's weak - but at least she wants to do something about it."

You find yourself so remarkably fixated on the light blue color of his eyes peaking through his pale eyelashes that the next words catch you off guard.

"I'd ask Yaga if I were you," Geto ignores his friend's remarks.

"I wanted to," you admit, "I just - I don't want him to think I'm unsatisfied with his teaching methods."

"It's a shame," Gojo puts his sunglasses back on, adjusting them lightly on the bridge of his nose, "If you're unsatisfied you should just say so - don't you think, Suguru?"

Geto sighs.

"But I'll help," a smile creeps slowly on Gojo's face, "What kind of senior would I be if I turn down a desperate plea for help from my junior?"

You open your mouth to defend yourself - trying to retain a neutral expression after being so brazenly called desperate, but fearing Gojo would take back his newly offered assistance, you only utter a quick thank you before agreeing to meet when classes are over.

Geto watches you walk into the building, and just as the hem of your fluttering skirt disappears into the doorway, he turns to his friend.

"That's very kind of you."

"Don't look so surprised, Suguru." Gojo scoffs dramatically, "I would never turn down a junior in need."

Geto rolled his eyes, to which Gojo finished his sentence, "Especially when they have such pretty eyes."

"And a short skirt," Geto laughs.

"A very short skirt." Gojo agrees.

-

"You didn't have to change," Gojo inspects you through his sunglasses. He isn't disappointed about the way the gym clothes hug your body - but the skirt you wore before already held a special place in his heart.

"Why? Aren't we going to train?" You inquire.

"It's a different kind of training," he states nonchalantly, to which you only stare at him, awaiting the specifics, "We're going to watch a movie."

"A .. movie?"

"So you don't want to train with the strongest.." he pauses, turning around as if to walk away.

"N-no!" You exclaim a little too loud, feeling like a wild animal whose leg got captured in a bear trap, "Let's train."

-

You sit down on the edge of Gojo's bed, gluing the palms of your hands to your knees as you watch him insert a CD into the laptop he put on a chair in front of you. He fiddles with the laptop for a while before turning the movie on, letting the opening credits play while he speaks.

"Now, all you have to do is keep a steady flow of cursed energy while you watch."

"What happens if I don't?" You inquire.

"I'll be here to keep you in check," he crosses his arms, directing his attention to the screen, triggering you to do the same.

The open credits pass to reveal the title, The Green Mile. Oh god, that movie's heartbreaking.

Gojo began to feel as though his mission was failing. He hoped you wouldn't be able to stay in control for long - imagining himself putting a hand on your thigh while guiding you confidently, saying things like Don't worry, I'll show you how it's done. Maybe you'll even call him Senpai. But the steady flow of energy in the room hadn't wavered in the past two and a half hours.

The pressure in the room drops as soon as the film attains its climax. A soft smirk grazes Gojo's lips when he starts to speak, turning to face you, "Don't worry, I'll -"

You feel a tear rolling down your face, distracting your focus. As you wipe your face with your sleeve and regain composure, you notice him staring at you with a glimmer of regret, stretching out a long arm to engulf your shoulders.

"T'was good, for your first training session, that is." He talks through the gut-wrenching music of the ending credits.

"Yeah, a training session.." you roll your eyes, still painfully aware of the arm he hadn't moved off your shoulders, why do they always think they're so smooth?

-

12 years later

You look through the doorway into the TV room, watching Gojo picking out DVDs for Yuji, his new student, to watch.

"You're not really going to make him watch films, are you?" You sit next to him, moving the pile of DVD cases scattered across the floor.

"It's training," Gojo focuses on reading the film titles on the paper sleeves, "You should know that."

"Oh please! You were just trying to get in my pants."

"Me?" Gojo chuckles, "You were the one trying to get in my pants - you're so strong Gojo, please train me Gojo!" He imitates you poorly, but you've gotten used to it throughout the years, "You were so desperate I thought you might cry if I refused."

"Oh then, please remind me who was trying to kiss me after finishing The Notebook."

"I did that for you! You were looking so depraved going on and on about how handsome the guy is, I felt sorry for you."

"Sure you did," you mused.

"He's not your type anyway," Gojo shrugs.

"Oh, what's my type then?" You flash a cocky smile at him as he pushes through the pile of DVDs to get closer to you.

"I don't know, I'd say tall, blue eyes," he pushes his blindfold down to rest on his neck, "handsome," he presses closer to you, his lips brushing against yours as he speaks, "strong," he bites down on your bottom lip softly.

"Gojo-Sensei," a voice cuts through the room, "What are we doing for training today - oh," you push yourself away from Gojo, feeling your face grow red as you watch a blushing pink-haired boy rush away from the TV room, "I'll go train with Fushiguro today!" Yuji exclaims from the hallway.

[ask-maxie-boy]

Goonion's Ghoul (Part 3) [dp x dc]

(A/N we switching the official name of the goonion to The First Universal Henchmans' Union. Just makes sense, thank y'all for the advice)

(Parts 1 & 2: here) (Part 4: here)

"Before we begin, I'd just like to clarify a few things. Mainly, can I ask for your preferred name?"

"Is that a joke?"

"Well, I figured it would professional to come out and call you Mr. Cobblepot, but seeing as we're talking about a... certain aspect of your enterprises, I wasn't sure you wanted your legal name in the records. The Union takes confidentiality very seriously."

Oswald Cobblepot looked down at the scrawny boy in front of him. This was the guy that had Eddie shaking in his boots? He tapped the ashes off his cigarette into the ashtray, and scoffed. "Doesn't matter to me, as long as you remember who you're talking to before you open your mouth."

"Of course! As you wish, Mr. Penguin."

There it was. That smile just a bit too wide, just like Riddler had said. Oswald Cobblepot wasn't an amateur, he wouldn't let something like that throw him off balance. "Alright, kid, lets cut to the chase. Whats this all about a Union?"

"Oh, Mr. Penguin, I had thought you heard! The First Universal Henchmans' Union is a recently formed collective of working class freelance goons, henchmen, and grunts of all different colors."

"Hweh! And what do I care if a bunch of simpletons wanna have a party together?"

The kid's head tilted, a sickening crack! ringing through the room. Just for a second, its eyes seemed to glow.

When you deal with bats for so long, little things like that don't sway you.

"If they're so little to you in your mind, then surely anything they might ask of you shouldn't be that hard to swallow?"

The temperature in the room seemed to drop, as the thing's face tried to imitate inquisitiveness.

Good. The Penguin likes it cold.

"You can toss away the whole intimidation shtick, boy. I didn't get to be where I was by bending over to every ignoramus who thinks they can get me to do what they want."

When you deal with Bats for so long, you start to pay more attention to little expressions. The way the shadows suddenly fall onto the boy's blue-eyed, black haired face as he tilts his head downward makes The Penguin's flinch, just for a moment.

"I promise you sir, the Goonion is a very real, and very serious organization."

Cobblepot sneers, cigarette holder angling upward, as he taps his umbrella on the ground. "I pay my people well. My lounge is up to code, too. You don't have a damn thing on me, and here you are trying to pull the wool over my eyes. Well listen here, boy, you don't run an operation like this in Gotham without knowing fear. Fear is watching every shadow, looking for the pin pricks of light. Fear is the cracking of bones in the room over as you know the jig's up. Fear is watching Gotham's shadow spawn appear from the darkness, promising the only thing he wont do is kill you. You're way out of your league if you think I'll bend to such a cheap trick."

When you deal with Bats for so long, you learn to keep your eyes open. You keep track of exits, you look for little disturbances, keep your ears ready for even the softest sound.

You pay attention to that little voice that says you're being watched.

"Mr Penguin, do I need to remind you just who these 'simpletons' are? They're the men who carry your goods to and from your lounge. They're the ones who rig up the Riddler's bombs, traffic weapons in and out of the city. What happens when deals go south, when plans are canceled partway though?"

When you deal with Bats for so long, you watch the shadows. They practically live in them, entering and exiting like they're made from the stuff. Anything that might give away their position.

The shadows are dancing. Pulsing with something even darker than Gotham. He swears he can hear the sound of a bat gently hitting someone's hand. Distant laughter, not natural, almost forced.

"You know, Mr. Penguin, The Joker is easily one of our worst offenders. One of his more interesting complaints is the lack of security in regards to chemicals. See, he doesn't really care much if there's missing inventory, or what happens after his plan, as long as there's enough for what he needs." A vial flutters between its fingers, eyes almost bored as a forked tongue slides between sharpened teeth. "I wonder, where does it all go?

Eyes, green as emerald and as bright as the sun burn into Ozwald's. A grin stretches wider, wider, quite literally from one ear to the next filled with jagged teeth. "Do you want to find out?"

...~☆~...

"...My... smoking habits."

"Yeah, honestly. Its like you said. Most of your stuff is up to board, and your workers are fairly happy. Its mainly just an issue for henches with asthma, though secondhand smoke isn't something most people enjoy."

"You did all that over my cigarettes?!"

"its fairly understood that the Iceberg Lounge is not a smoke-free area, so you can do as you please there, but when it comes to abandoned warehouses or other places of business, we ask you please refrain from smoking."

"I can't believe this."

"For what its worth, the goons understand its part of your whole outfit, and are willing to compromise. We have a list of alternatives that visibly resemble a lit cigarette, and will fit in your holder, but wont actually release any smoke..."

@akikkobara @thegatorsgoose @addie-lover-of-stories @apointlessbox @screamingtofillthevoid @semiprofessionaldumbass @sailor-goddess @malice-of-the-sunrise @savaton @spikedlynx @emergentpanda-blog @starlightcat04

[kenmakodz]

CANDID LOVE ˙✧˖📷

06. brain food ☆

writing in-between cuts!

a quiet knock on the door catches your attention, which was previously focused on scrolling through random shows on Netflix. a weird feeling, you get. an emotion that seems to be the love-child of excitement and nervousness. there's no time to run away from these feelings, though, so you get up and open the door for the poor boy who's been hauling 3 bags of food.

"my god" he sighs, setting the bags down on the coffee table. "i think my stomach has eyes. there's no way we're finishing all this in one night." you laugh, noticing how he's holding his arm out of pain. "i've definitely done the same, more times than i'd like to admit-- here, sit down for a bit." gesturing to the couch, you sit down and pat a spot relatively close to you. he takes this offer with open arms, considering he'd walked pretty far. "sorry i took a while, hopefully i didn't keep you waiting too long?" his hands fidget together as he takes in your room. it's the size of a triple, but you have it to yourself. it's quite surprising how nice the school treats transfer students, considering how main students are usually shoved into a tiny room with 2-3 other people. you place your hand upon his; a ballsy move, but you know how it feels to be anxious about things. you don't want him to be anxious with you. "it's fine, really. i don't mind waiting for you." you smile, moving your hand back to it's previous position. embarrassment clearly runs through his body, but to you he just looked starstruck. after a moment of pushing these feelings back, he returns your smile. "i'm glad, then. um, can we eat? i fear my stomach is going to wrinkle up if we don't." "yes yuuta, we can eat."

"okay, okay. this seems good for now, i think?" he sits back from the laptop you two have been sharing, taking a second to re-read the outline. your eyes scan the page as well; it's a very.. rough outline. you start laughing at the last few lines, where he'd begun to give up on being professional. after all, only you two will see this draft. "why are you laughing?" he pouts, thinking you're making fun of the ideas laid out. "oh relax," you lean back with him, realizing he's gotten much closer than before. "i can just tell that you were rushing writing the final scene." his head whips to you and a hand clutches his chest, feigning shock; a sarcastic gasp falls from his lips. "how could you! we worked very hard on this!" your hand pushes his away from his chest, the both of them landing on his lap. "oh, shut up. i'm just teasing." he huffs anyways, a facade you've become accustomed to. after all, one of your best friends is nobara kugisaki.

reaching to a stuffed dog to your side, you hand it to him. "here, will an emotional support dog help?" he sighs, wrapping it in his arms. "i suppose." laughing again, you sit up and grab the laptop once more. "you're so dumb." he grips the toy more, you don't realize it, but he likes the way it smells of lavender just like you do. "what are you doing now, don't you think its enough for tonight?" you stop to think, after sending the draft to your phone. "well, we'll need to send casting calls to the neighboring schools sometime soon.. but i guess we can be done for now." he closes the laptop for you and places it on the table once again, looking back. "good, we can do that another time-" his sentence is cut off due to his phone practically blowing up in the room over. "sorry," he starts, getting up and handing the stuffed dog back to you. "let me go check on that."

"hey, sorry again. my friends were blowing up my phone for some reason." he comes back into the room where you two were sitting before, unsure if he should sit back down. he can't read your face, and you can't read his either, despite you both feeling the same way. "it's okay. you can sit back down if you want to stay a bit longer..?" you look down for a split second, anticipating the rejection he was about to give you. "i was looking for shows before you got here, but i couldn't find a good one." you try to convey what you say as a question, but it almost comes out as a plea. he doesn't say anything immediately, and you almost get upset? looking back up, you realize he's already getting ready to sit back down with you. "i'd love to stay. i also have an amazing suggestion for a show." your eyes light up, and it feels like the room filled with more air the way you both sighed with relief. "oh really?" you tease him, as he takes back the toy he'd left with you. "lay it on me then."

fun facts -> TWO PEOPLE PINING FOR EACHOTHER BUT NEITHER KNOW IT!!!! a classic trope. chefs kiss. yuuta offered to go get snacks not only because he was starving, but he also needed time to calm himself down before going to y/n's dorm. he was scared. scared that he'd say something stupid, give her the ick, embarrass himself. you know, the works. once he got there though, it felt like he never wanted to go home again.

-> GOD I LOVE THEM SO MUCh. screams. kicking my feet like a little girl writing this chapter.

previous, masterlist, next [07. i hate men (except you two)]

taglist is open! @just-a-girlblogger @moryymor @swissy23 @hvnyacoded @sereniteav @k4romis @jayathelostdragon  @h3rmess @olivandeee @lysaray @ari3000dontcare @raechu11 @marifujioka @nyxlai @sonicsolos @saltypuffin1040 @r0ckst4rjk @h8ani @lmaolmaolmao @maya-maya-56 @mittensdun @adrenova @pnkblueberry @morgyyyyyyy @chososwh0r3 @lunecqm @r4veeen @arivsx @levlucs-kiru @mellozhi

if you are in bold, i am unable to tag you :( and if i forgot to add you, PLEASE YELL AT ME

⤷ © kenmakodz

[marleyybluu]

Truth or Drink

Pedro Pascal x fem!reader

WC: 1k

A lil quick one

Warnings: alcohol (drink responsibly), age gap (reader is like 30 we’ll say), fluff and flirting.

Look at this cutie

You sat across from him, nothing but smiles on both faces as you stared into each other's souls intensely. His sweet brown eyes wandered your face, fresh out of the makeup chair and looking stunning as always. You let out a small giggle, you looked down to shuffle your cards of questions. Today was going to be interesting.

The two of you had starred in a romantic comedy that had come out last week and the reviews it was getting had been great so far. The real buzz was the chemistry you two had, tabloids often twisting your innocent hangouts as something more. Pedro wasn't a difficult person to get along with, the vibes had been there since day one. You two clicked almost instantly, it was almost impossible to shoot one scene without one of you breaking character.

You had to admit though, the feelings you had were no longer just platonic. The movie felt all too real and whenever the director yelled cut you were sucked back into reality. Oh, that man could kiss. Lips soft and sweet, gentle and careful with yours as if he was scared to hurt you. There'd been a few times it felt a bit too real, but you didn't mind.

He made your heart race, even now, as he watched you across the table.

Today was another promo video for your movie. You two were doing Truth or Drink for Cut's YouTube channel. They wouldn't normally have well-known actors on their channel but they loved how you two interacted and insisted on a piece of the action. You had seen many of these videos and a lot of them were enjoyable so you were excited to do this, and also happy to get a few shots in. Though you two had some shots the night before.

"Alright, you guys ready?"

The both of you nodded and looked back at each other. The cameraman gave you two the thumbs up, and it didn't take long for you to let out a nervous giggle and quickly apologize for it. Pedro shook his head. "Hi, I'm Pedro Pascal, and this is my unprofessional co-star YN YLN." You sucked your teeth reaching over the small table to hit him in the arm with your cards.

"You can actually start with a shot if you guys would like." One of the producers informed. "Oh really?" Pedro asked, he looked back at you to see that you had already popped the top off of the bottle with tequila and poured it into his shot glass before pouring it into your own. There was juice in a slightly bigger glass as a chaser but you often didn't need it. "Salud." He winked. "Salud." You smiled before clinking and drinking. You sucked in your cheeks and squeezed your eyes as the drink burned your esophagus.

Pedro tapped his cards against the table catching your attention. "You want to go first?"

"Nah, you go." You leaned back in your chair interested to hear what he had written down. He looked down at his cards, a bit nervous about how this was going to go, he would try not to take too many shots for fear he might confess his true feelings on camera. "When they told you would be working with me, were you excited?"

You playfully rolled your eyes, a simple question but that shit-eating grin he had on his face meant it was a cocky question. "I already told you how I felt."

"Yeah but now you have to tell them."

"Yes, Pedro I was excited when they told me that I'd be working with you." You admitted on camera begrudgingly. Pedro's eyes disappeared as he smiled at the camera, your heart fluttered as his contagious emotion spread over to you. You quickly looked down at your cards. "Hm, who's a better acting partner? Me or Oscar Isaac?"

He shook his head repeating the word 'nope.' He was not about to get in trouble with his two friends, he reached over for the bottle and took a shot while you sat there dumbfounded with your mouth agape in amusement and utter shock. "You know what," You looked into the lens. "He only took that shot because he didn't want to hurt your feelings, Oscar."

Pedro snorted before throwing his head back, he quietly hissed as the alcohol burned his throat. You bounced your leg up and down as your eyes focused on the slender of his neck, the way his Adam's apple bobbed when he swallowed. You groaned internally. "Alright," He started. "Do we have to do boring questions?"

"You can ask anything you want." They reassured. He slowly nodded.

The back and forth continued, and a few more rounds of liquor entered both your systems— the both of you giggly and probably annoying the rest of the crew but you no longer cared. "Do you watch the TikTok edits that people make about you? And does it boost your ego?"

He closed his eyes in defeat. "Yes, I do watch them." He cringed. "Some of them are a little... you know..." Pedro wiggled his brows alluding to the fact that some videos were a little too thirsty. "But I love them all anyway. So thanks, guys."

It was his turn to ask, he cleared his throat and shuffled in his seat. You knew him like the back of your hand, he was nervous but what could he be nervous about? You were just asking each other goofy questions, nothing too weird. Right?

"Okay, am I the best kisser out of all your co-stars?" He asked. You tilted your head, eyes passing between him and the shot glass, wondering if you should say the truth or leave it to the imagination. You nodded your head keeping your lips sealed. "Am I really?"

He sounded almost shocked.

"Yeah, you are."

"No bullshit?"

"No bullshit Pascal."

He made a proud face. "How about out of all your little boyfriends?" Your eyes popped out of your head, he was getting a little too hasty. He watched as you slowly reached over to the bottles, it was quiet as you poured your drink of choice. You looked up at the ceiling and sighed. "Yes." You still took your shot pursing your lips and shaking your head as it went down.

He was taken aback, sure he asked the question but he expected you to take a shot instead of actually answering it. You shrugged putting your cards flat on the table. "Same question for you."

At this point the crew let them do what they want, the more natural it looked the better. Pedro shrugged. "Yeah, I'd say you're at the top of the list."

"Oooh, there's a list."

"Of course." He smugged. He tugged on his bottom lip, eyes scanning the entirety of your face. "Have you ever had a crush on a co-star?"

You covered your face, you were really laying everything on the table, in front of these strangers and soon for hundreds of thousands of people to see. "What are you getting at Pascal?"

"I'm just playing the game." He said with that not-so-innocent face. "Yes, I have a crush on a co-star?"

"I said had."

You smirked. "I know."

Now it was his turn to blush, he giggled nervously. "I have a crush on one of my co-stars too."

You turned your head away, you were nothing but a bundle of nerves. Pedro gently kicked you under the table and you returned the favour. Neither of you had any more questions... that could be asked on camera at least. "Well if you'll excuse us..." Pedro proceeded to stand up, he hooked his arm inviting you to wrap yours around it and you did not hesitate.

"We have some things to discuss. Make sure you guys check out our new movie. Byeeeee."

The producers stood there stunned at what just happened while you two skipped off. You could only imagine the response and chaos that this would cause.

I have to get these Pedro fics out of my system yall. I'm off tomorrow so hopefully ill post another one and then after that I'll update based on the poll (go vote if you'd like) if you liked this fic, feel free to like this fic. Comments and reblogs are appreciated. Peace and love