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#and i know she’s just shocked and wants to help
kendyzzlewp · 2 days
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Long Ass Break
art donaldson drabble
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pairing: art donaldson x fem!reader
tags: fluff, domestic, married life, husband!art donaldson, tennisplayer!reader, tournament, coach!patrick
word count: 629
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Art was worried.
He watched as you ran off the court, your hand over your mouth as you tried for the life of you not to puke all over the clay court. Your opponent stood there frustrated, arms crossed over her chest, a scowl evident on her face.
Minutes passed and the murmuring of the crown began to get louder due to your absence. Art looked around, his left hand scratching his head, a gold wedding band reflecting in the sun. No sign of you yet.
He was worried. He warned you about this happening, the pros and cons about playing in the tournament. You were stubborn, determined to power through because you’ve encountered worse. This was a piece of cake. Being your husband, he supported you but mostly, he just wanted to avoid your bad side.
Art glanced at the door you disappeared behind, his leg shaking in anticipation. You still hadn’t returned. The umpire was about to call the game. You were going to lose by default after being close to winning the whole goddamned tournament.
Fuck it, he thought and stood up to go through that fucking door. His heart racing as he pushed people from your team, muttering excuse me and thank you or whatever the fuck they needed to hear.
He reached the closed bathroom door, leaning closer to hear your retching as your stomach rebelled against you. His knuckles knocked on the bathroom door, as a courtesy and then pushed the door open.
Inside the bathroom, you were hunched over the toilet, clearly in distress. Art's heart clenched at the sight. He quickly kneeled down beside you, placing a gentle hand on your back.
"Hey sweetheart," he said softly, trying to offer some comfort. "Are you okay? What's going on?"
You looked up, tears in your eyes, and managed to croak out, "You were right,” you admitted. “I need a break.”
Art's heart sank as he saw you so distressed and vulnerable. He wrapped his arms around you, pulling you into his comforting embrace. You felt a little better, the nausea still lingered around your throat but the urge was gone.
“You need to rest,” he whispered into your hair, sound muffled. “It’s starting to take a toll on you.
You sighed, tired, sweaty and defeated. “I know. Just take me home.”
Patrick burst through the door, concern and disappointment etched all over his place. “What the fuck is going on? Why aren’t you playing?”
You rolled your eyes as Art helped you stand up on your shaky legs. “I need a break Pat,” you said, leaning on your husband for support. “I need a long ass break.”
“A break?” He asked, crossing his arms in disbelief. “When have you ever taken a break?”
“Fuck off, Patrick,” Art grumbled at his best friend, turned your coach. “She needs a fucking break.”
Patrick scoffed, the sound making Art’s grip tighten around you. “How long is this break supposed to be?”
“9 months.”
Patrick's eyes widened in shock as the weight of your words sank in. He looked from you to Art, realization dawned on him. You shifted uncomfortably, wanting to just go home and sleep for the rest of the year.
"You're pregnant?" he exclaimed, his voice filled with a mixture of surprise and understanding.
You nodded, leaning more heavily on Art for support. "Yes, I am."
Patrick's expression softened, his initial frustration melting away as he realized the gravity of the situation. "I... I had no idea.”
“Now you do,” Art rolled his eyes, his own concern for you evident but the annoyance toward Patrick even more prominent. "I just need to take her home before she throws up all over you.”
Patrick stepped aside, offering you a supportive smile. "Congratulations, you fuckers. Take all the time you need. We'll handle the tournament."
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baby-yongbok · 3 days
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𝖣 𝖨 𝖲 𝖯 𝖠 𝖳 𝖢 𝖧
Husband!911 Operator!Bang Chan 𝗑 Afab!Reader
♡ Genre - Angst ♡ Word Count - 1.3k ♡ Summary - Chan has heard a lot of calls being a 911 operator but this is one that he never wanted to experience. ♡ Warnings - Themes of home invasion, Mention of guns [Please read responsibly. This is an emotional fic.] ♡ a/n - I wrote this after watching an episode of S.W.A.T 😭This fic is not proof read.
✧ Masterlist ✧
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He hasn’t been on the night shift since your daughter was born. He liked to spend the nights with Nara when she was first born. He liked to come home to her drooling smiles and gleeful giggles after answering calls all day. He never knew what he’d get when he answered the phone. It could be something small like a cat being stuck in a tree but it rarely ever was. He was on a never ending loop of talking people down during one of their most anxious moments. Something that he hoped he would never have to do. 
“Ma’am, please try to stay calm. Can you repeat your address please?” Chan was laughing with Changbin, dimples on full display until he heard his co-worker repeat the address she was given. He dropped the water bottle in his hand, immediately turning on his heels and making his way behind her to look at the screen.
“Is there anyone else in the home?” It’s his address on the screen. You on the phone. There’s someone in the house with you and his daughter. Changbin comes up behind Chan, peering at the screen with curious eyes that widen quickly. “Is your daughter with you?”
“Chan.” His friend lays a hand on his shoulder in an attempt to pull him out of his shock but it’s no use. He’s too busy trying to hear your voice over the noisy office. Too busy trying to find out if you’re okay. 
“There are officers on the way ma’am just stay put okay?” Chan is tapping his co-worker before he can even process the action. She looks back at him with furrowed brows but her features soften once she realizes who it is. She knows that address, she knows it’s his.
“Give me the headset.” His voice betrays him as it wavers towards the end of the final word but the woman in front of him knew better than to question his request. She hands it over quickly and Chan puts it on with shaky hands. “Ma’am? My name is Chan and I’m going to stay with you through this, okay?”
“Chan?” He can hear the fear in your voice, the timbre shakes like glass windows in a storm and he swears that in that moment he could shatter. “Baby, please tell me it’s you. Please.”
“It���s me. I’m here.” Changbin takes it upon himself to coordinate with the call operator to track the units. He sprints through the office to his desk in hopes that his inquiry will speed up the process. In hopes that it’ll help save you. “Where’s Nara?”
“She’s in her hiding spot.” You mumble through tears, hushed sobs puffing past your trembling lips. “He has a gun, Channie.”
Chan’s eyes squeeze shut, brows furrowed as he tries his best to keep his cool. He wants to run to you, he wants to kill the guy who had the gall to break into his house. He wants to hold you and Nara and tell you that it’ll all be okay. “So do you.”
“His is bigger.” You quip, hopelessness tingeing the corners of your words. “How long until someone gets -” You’re cut off by the sound of heavy footsteps creaking against the hardwood of the main hallway. 
“Baby, please talk to me. I need to know that you’re okay.” He’s squeezing the edge of the desk as he waits for you to reply but all he hears are the shallow breaths that you’re desperately trying to hold. “Eta?” He asks over to his co-worker sitting below him.
“Three.” Chan’s eyes scan the screen with the call transcript, he’s staring. Waiting for your words to pop up. 
“Is he in the room with you?” His jaw is clenched and his tongue feels heavy with every word but the silence on your end speaks louder than any words that could come out of your mouth. “Baby, listen to me. I need you to stay as still as possible, okay? Don’t move unless you have to.”
You’re quiet, heaving breaths are the only sign that you haven’t been disconnected. The only sign that you’re alive. Chan runs a hand through his hair as his next sentence weighs on the heavy muscle in his mouth. “I love you, okay? I love you and I love Nara with -” 
His voice cracks as tears threaten to fall. He breathes them back, standing up straighter and trying his best to not let the damn behind his eyes break. “I love both of you with every ounce of my being. You’re going to be okay, the police are right around the corner but I need you to put down the phone.”
A sob catches in your throat and the heavy boots roaming your bedroom stop for a second. You watch the shadow from under the closet door with wide eyes. “I need you to hold the gun with two hands, just like I taught you okay? I need you to be ready in case -”
He’s interrupted by a sudden thud followed by frantic rustling. “Hello?” He can hear you, he can hear you breathing. He can hear your frantic movements then he can hear your screaming, your struggling.
“Y/n?” He’s panicking, shattering into a million pieces as he listens in on the other line. “Where the fuck are they?” Changbin runs up behind Chan, his hand returns to its earlier spot as he reports what he knows. 
“They’re outside, they’re there.” Chan’s gaze falls back to the screen, the green glowing transcript is unmoving on your part. It’s empty apart from the sound of your screaming. 
“Baby, I need you to fucking fight.” Tears are falling from his eyes, he’s redder than hot iron and his heart is shaking like a leaf in his chest. 
“Chan!” You’re screaming. Screaming his name, begging him for help and he’s not there. Your sobs are loud, rippling through the receiver accompanied by more rustling. He can hear the grunts of the assailant as he fights you but they’re easily drowned out by the sound of police sirens echoing through the air. 
“Fight, do you hear me?” He’s practically yelling into the headset. Eyes shut tight as he focuses on every single sound until he hears the one that he was dreading. It echoes louder than any scream he’s ever heard. He’s cold as soon as he registers the gun fire, his eyes fly open as he’s swallowed by the silence on the other line. It’s loud, once again louder than any words could be.
“Y/n?” His mind is running wild. His thoughts are swallowing him whole, wrapping him up in a darkness that he never knew could exist. Who fired that shot? “Baby?” His shaky voice is nearly a whisper, a desperate whisper with a hidden plea that you’ll answer him. 
Everything is still around him, time seems to evaporate as he counts the seconds without hearing your voice. Selfishly, he finds himself missing the screams. At least then he was sure that you’re alive, at least then he -
“Channie.” Your trembling voice rings through the receiver and Chan straightens up like a flower towards sunlight. “He’s dead.” 
Chan unravels in an instant. Tears run down his blushed cheeks like a free flowing river and the shards of his heart decorating his insides glisten in the hope of being put back together. “I fought for you.” His hands form fists in his hair as Changbin soothes his friend that best that he can. 
“You did great, baby.” He chokes out through sobs, trying his best to sound strong for you. Trying to be as strong as you’re being now. He listens as your daughter runs to you with tear stained cheeks and quivering lips that you kiss over and over again as you hold her close to your shaking frame. 
“Chan.” You mumble. “Please come home.”
He does his best to collect himself. He wipes his tears and tries to breathe normally. He blinks away the heartache lingering in his stomach and the anger multiplying in his chest. He fights it all away for you. He fights it all away just so you can hear him say this.
 “I’m coming to you, right now. I'm coming.” 
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Thank you for reading! I hope that you enjoyed!
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dixons-sunshine · 3 days
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The Importance Of Secret Keeping | Daryl Dixon x Fem! Reader
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Summary: When Rick brought in the former Woodbury residents, Daryl tried to stay away from them. However, a little girl had made him her unofficial best friend, and she revealed some pretty interesting things to him about you.
Genre: Fluff.
Era: Prison, pre season 4.
Warnings: Swearing.
Word count: 1.3k.
A/n: This isn't the best because I couldn't really focus while writing this, but I wanted to get this done. I hope you like this nonetheless!
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“Daryl, are you a tree?” Hazel asked innocently, skipping alongside the archer who had just returned from his run.
Daryl raised his eyebrows in surprise at the six year old's question. He sent a nod in Rick's direction, before extending his hand to the little girl to help her bound up the stairs that lead to the cell blocks.
“No, I ain't a tree,” Daryl replied to Hazel's question, pushing open the door that lead into the cell blocks.
“I didn't think so,” Hazel responded instantly, using her hand that held Daryl's to swing their arms in a childlike manner.
Daryl's lips twitched up into a small smile at the girl's antics, allowing her to swing his arm as they walked. “Then why'd ya ask, kiddo?”
“Because Mama said you have arms like tree trunks,” Hazel replied, before giggling and shaking her head. “Silly Mama. She thinks you're a tree. You should tell her you're not.”
Daryl's eyes widened in shock at Hazel's confession. He stopped in his tracks and withdrew his hand from the small girl's grip, making her turn around and look at Daryl in confusion.
“Daryl?”
“Yer mama really said tha'?” the archer questioned in surprise.
“Yeah! Mama says a lot of things about you. She talks about you with Michonne all the time,” Hazel happily told him. “Her thinking you're a tree is silly, though.”
Daryl hummed in acknowledgement, willing the blush spreading across his face to go away. He started walking again and Hazel bounded next to him. “Wha' else does yer mama say 'bout me?”
“She says you have a cute butt,” Hazel began, before making an over exaggerated disgusted face. “Butts are gross.”
“Yeah, butts are gross,” Daryl chuckled, leading the six year old into the cellblock and up into his own cell. “Dun' know why yer mama would think mine s'cute.” He allowed Hazel to rush into his cell, her attention instantly going to the boardgame they had been playing the day before.
“Are you going to be my new daddy, Daryl?” Hazel asked suddenly, eliciting a confused scoff from the man.
“Why ya askin' tha'?” he inquired, sitting down on his bed. He toed off his boots and grabbed some jerky he had made, before flopping down onto his back, the thin mattress offering some form of relief for the tired archer. He began chewing on the dry meat, turning his attention back to the young girl.
Hazel climbed onto the bed, making herself comfortable by his feet. “Because Mama said that you have daddy vibes.”
That caught Daryl off guard. He choked on the jerky, his airway cut off. He sat up and hit himself against his chest, soon successfully ridding his airway of the thing that almost killed him. He looked at Hazel in shock, the little girl looking back at him in confusion.
Catching his breath, Daryl shook his head at Hazel. “Nah, I ain't gon' be yer new daddy. Yer mama must've been talkin' 'bout someone else.”
Hazel shook her head in disagreement. “No, Mama was talking about you, Daryl. She said your name when she said that.”
Daryl looked at Hazel in shock and slowly nodded. He had a hard time believing that you, the no-nonsense lady who was one of the very few Woodbury residents who actually knew how to handle herself against the dead, had taken an interest like that in him. There was no way that the woman he had taken an unexpected liking to, a liking that had soon morphed into something that wasn't platonic, liked him like that. He just couldn't believe it.
“Mama also said she'd look better in your shirt,” Hazel said, interrupting his train of thought.
Daryl inhaled sharply. He thought about her words for a moment before nodding to himself, picturing you in his shirt. “Yeah, she would,” he mumbled to himself.
“What?” Hazel asked, tilting her head in confusion.
Daryl quickly shook his head. “Nothin'. S'nothin'.”
As if appearing out of thin air, you showed up at his cell, quietly knocking on the doorframe. Hazel's attention shifted towards the door and she quickly clambered off the bed. She excitedly sprinted towards you and you caught her in a big hug, placing a small kiss on top of her head.
“Hey, Baby,” you greeted her, looking up at Daryl and sending him a shy smile. “Hey, Daryl.”
Daryl, now cursed with knowledge about what you thought of him, could feel his cheeks heating up. He sent you a small nod. “Hey.”
You looked down at your daughter again, about to usher her out of the cell with you, but she saw someone walking outside, and she wiggled herself out of your arms to run to that person. “Michonne!”
“Hazel!” you called out to her, peeping out of the cell just in time to see Michonne embrace the girl in a hug.
Michonne looked up at you and waved you off. “I got her. I'll get her settled down for the night. You say goodnight to your crush.”
You ducked your head in embarrassment and sent her a crude gesture with your middle finger, eliciting a laugh from her. “Fuck you, Michonne,” you mouthed to her, watching her leave with Hazel.
Shaking your head, you turned back around and almost ran into the archer. Daryl steadied you, and you could feel the heat seeping from his hands to your arms.
“Ya alrigh'?” he asked you, his blue eyes gazing deeply into yours.
You nodded, your breath leaving you due to the close proximity you had with the man. “I'm good,” you whispered in confirmation, your heart speeding up.
Daryl, overcome by a rare sense of confidence, hummed and smirked slightly. “Ya sure? My tree trunk arms didn't chaffe yer shirt or anythin'?”
Your eyes widened in surprise, and you took a step back. “What?”
“Ya need my shirt instead? I bet ya will look better in it than any of yer own shirts.”
Realization dawned on you. “Hazel—”
“Yeah,” Daryl cut you off, smiling slightly at the way your eyes widened. “Said ya think my butt looks real cute, too. She said other things too, but m'not gon' embarrass ya any more.”
“God, she really exposed me, huh?” you laughed shyly, ducking your head to avoid the archer's eyes.
Daryl moved forward and cupped your chin, lifting your head to look at him. The air between the two of you shifted, an unexplainable electricity forming. His eyes flickered between your eyes and your lips, silently asking for permission.
However, before anything could happen, Hazel came bounding into Daryl's cell again, Michonne hot on her tail. Daryl quickly pulled away and took a step back, and you straightened yourself.
Michonne looked between you and Daryl with a knowing smirk. Daryl blushed and ducked his head, while you pursed your lips and sent her a warning glare. “Don't even think about it,” you mouthed to her, moving away from Daryl to pick up your daughter. “What are you doing here, Baby? I thought auntie Michonne was putting you to bed.”
“I want you to do it, Mama,” Hazel explained, lowering her head to rest on your shoulder. She waved at Daryl, giggling into your shoulder. “Goodnight, Daryl.”
“Nigh',” Daryl greeted her, sharing a shy nod with you. “I'll, uh, see ya tomorrow, righ'?”
“Yeah,” you nodded, casting your eyes away from him. “Goodnight, Daryl.”
With that, you turned and walked out of the cell with Michonne, leaving Daryl alone in his cell. The archer, confused by everything that happened, sat himself down on the bed. However, he chuckled to himself when he heard your voice from down the hall.
“Hazel, how about for tonight's bedtime story, I teach you about the importance of keeping secrets?”
Yeah, Daryl thought, Hazel definitely wasn't lying. And he took that as an invitation to finally confess to you.
Which he did, that very next day, while you were on watch duty.
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bangchansgirlsblog · 2 days
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my dear! I'm your fan, I love your writing. Thank you for taking us out of our reality and allowing us to enter a world of our own! Could I make a request for a crazy idea I had? An anguished Y/N and Chan fight and he tells her to leave and leave him alone. When Y/N leaves in a daze he doesn't see the car and is run over. In the end I trust you. =) If it doesn't bother you and you can fulfill my request, I would be very happy!
Can we turn back time?
Warnings: blood, tragic, angst, accident.
Summary: ^^ Requested
A/N: hey baby :) not the best :/ butttt I hope you like it. Sorry for any grammar mistakes.
**
Her heart was beating at a fast pace. Why was he not understanding what she was trying to say?
“You always come home late Chan! I thought I could have this one night. This one night to ourselves but you chose to go drinking instead?!” She poured her heart out as she stared at her idol boyfriend.
“Please Y/n now now okay? I get you wanna talk but can I please just go to bed? We can talk about it tomorrow,” he pleaded as he put down his black leather jacket on the couch.
His curls sat neatly on his head and his black shirt fitting him perfectly and his jeans neatly ironed.
“Chan it feels like you don’t love me anymore!”
“Well maybe I don’t, okay?!” He got up and yelled. His anger was now full on visible as he aggressively slammed his hands on the table.
She stood there looking at him shocked. Tears pricking through her eyes. What was this mess?
His eyes softened as looked her scared figure. “I- I didn’t mean too,”
“Save it Chan.” She sobbed. Her hand was fiddling with her promise ring that Chan has gifted her on their 2 year anniversary. It was the most beautiful ring that she has laid her eyes on but as time went on she realized it was just a ring it was a stress reliever because anytime she was sad, frustrated, mad or confused she would play with the ring on her finger.
“Why can’t you see the things you keep doing hurt me Chan?” She sobbed and looked up at him. Praying that somehow she can find answers.
“I-“ he took a deep breathe trying to keep his own tears in, “I’m failing okay? Can you just leave me alone? Please?” He took a shaky breath before taking a step back and grabbing his jacket.
“Am I a burden now?” Her chest tightened. Chan couldn’t look at her. He had no courage, no strength.
“I’m going upstairs,” he simply said and walked past her.
She wanted to stop him, beg him to hold her, beg him to be there for her but the pain in her chest told her otherwise. She looked so silly, like a kicked puppy.
She wiped her tears and walked over to grab her shoes before leaving her house totally forgetting her phone and keys.
**
It was dark and cold. The sun had officially set and people were either out having dinner or rushing home from work.
Y/n couldn’t help but feel bad as she watched the couples sitting outside restaurants talking and laughing.
She felt empty, she felt deceived. Chan was the perfect boyfriend. He made sure of it but when they started becoming a hit he started slowly pushing her to the side leaving her at home and going out to drink and party or he would be locked up in the studio trying to make new songs.
She was lost without him. She had created her whole routine off of him and now she would wakeup every morning feelings lost not knowing what to do.
Her mind was runnning so fast that she couldn’t keep up. The tears in her eyes were were blurring her vision as she took quick steps to the park.
It wasn’t far. That was always her safe space. Everytime she would get overwhelmed or exhausted she would run away and hide behind the big old oak tree down by the river next to the park.
It was a little foggy, she couldn’t see anything but Chan’s loud voice kept playing in her head until she heard a loud screech. She looked to the side but it was too late. A painful scream left her body as she watched the car crash into her body.
She didn’t feel pain all she could hear was a ringing sound then a few sirens before everything went quiet.
**
“199 what is your emergency?”
“I-I crashed into someone, help! Please! I don’t know what to do-“
“Okay sir is she breathing? I need you to calm down and tell me what happened,”
“Y-yes she’s still breathing, I- I was driving and she just stepped infront of the car, I don’t know! It wasn’t my fault,” he sobbed as panic was filling his chest.
He looked down at the frail body, blood was everywhere and yet he still didn’t pass out. He tried to put pressure on the area that was bleeding the most but it wasn’t working. Blood was still gushing out of her.
She looked familiar tho, he thought.
“Sir, I’ve sent an ambulance. I just need you to keep breathing and tell me if she stops breathing. Keep your hand on the wound,” the dispatcher kept telling him over and over again.
“Oh God this is a lot of blood. Please God, please don’t let her die,” he whispered as he looked up at the car that was parked by them.
It felt like hours until he felt like who could breathe. He heard the sirens. They were here. The paramedics were finally here.
**
“C’mon Y/n please pick up,” Chan cursed at himself as he walked back and forth in the living room.
He was now in sweatpants and a hoodie. His hair wet from the shower.
When he had come downstairs he saw no sight of Y/n and at first he thought that maybe she had gone for a breather so he decided to do some work knowing that she wouldn’t pick up his phone even if he had tried to call so he just chose to distract himself.
He felt guilty for the fight they had. It was chewing him alive but he knew it was his fault and he needed to make it up. As time kept passing by; 30 minutes turned into 2 hours.
He started to feel uneasy so he decided to try her phone but she wasn’t picking. He called all the boys at the dorm asking if she was with them but they said they hadn’t seen her then he called her bestfriend and she too hadn’t seen her. That’s when the panic started to set in.
He called her phone over and over again while making sure to text her too. He rushed upstairs to grab his crocs and that’s when he saw her phone on the night stand table.
“Shit, Y/n,” he groaned and rubbed his eyes before grabbing his car keys.
He put on his crocs and rundown the stairs and that’s when he got a call from his manager.
“What is it Soon-hoo, I can’t really-“
“Chan we need to get to the hospital now,” he said in a panic. Chan’s blood went cold as he could hear shuffling in the background.
“W-what is it? What happened?!” He managed to say.
“It’s Y/n Chan,” Chan’s senses came to a hold. Everyhting around him felt like it was moving in slow motion, “she got run over Chan, I’m coming to pick you up,” their manager said as he started the car.
All Chan could hear was a ringing sound as he stared at the blank floor. Tears running down his cheeks as his heart was beating faster.
______
Don’t forget to reblog😋
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jihyoruri · 1 day
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❚ ❚ ❚ ❚ ❚ ❚ ❚ ❚ 𓍢 YES OR YES yu jimin x reader
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↳ warnings jimin is down bad, yn is a dancer, slight swearing
jimin found herself in a situation. 
she was completely smitten with the cute backup dancer who had been rehearsing with them for their upcoming comeback.
there was just one problem.
jimin had no idea how to approach her. although yn seemed like a complete ray of sunshine, there was something undeniably intimidating about her when she danced.
she also didn’t know if she was into girls.
“there’s no way she’s straight,” aeri said to jimin as they sat on the dance room floor, watching the backup dancers interact. “just look at how she’s dressed today. there’s a no way she didn’t wake up this morning thinking, ‘I want to attract women.’”
yn was a feminine girl, but when she wanted to switch it up, she switches it up and it always got jimin flustered, like that one time yn walked into practice dressed like that for the first.
“oh my gosh.” jimin said out loud as she stood behind yn in shock, is her face red? it feels like it’s on fire.
“huh?” yn turned to look at the leader who looked like she was two shades away from looking like a fire truck.
“nothing.” the she responded quickly before rushing over to stand with minjeong.
she bit her lip softly as she listened to aeri’s reassurance, she watched as yn playfully pushed her fellow dancer’s hair behind her earn and pulling the girl closer to her causing the girl to laugh flustered.
“yeah there’s no way she’s straight.” jimin agreed watching the scene, “how do I talk to her?” she turned her head to look at aeri who tilted her head to think.
“ask her for help on a dance move,” aeri said before laughing at jimin’s offended face, “put your ego aside, she’s the best dancer in the room, do you want her or not?”
“I do.” jimin responded immediately.
“okay then get ur butt up and ask her.” 
“right now?”
"yes!" aeri shouted, grabbing jimin’s arm and pulling her to her feet. both girls stood, and jimin looked at aeri helplessly. with an exasperated eye roll, aeri gave jimin a gentle push towards yn.
jimin felt like her stomach was gonna drop to her ass, she slowly walked to the attractive dancer who was talking animatedly to her friends.
as she made her way to yn, jimin glanced back at aeri, who gave her an encouraging nod. taking a deep breath, jimin tapped yn’s on the shoulder.
the dancers quieted down as yn turned to look at jimin, a smile immediately lighting up her face and making jimin want to melt.
“hey, I was wondering if you could help me with this one move. you seem to do it the best,” jimin asked smoothly, mentally giving herself a high five.
please say yes.
yn nodded immediately. “of course!” she said, subconsciously placing her hand on jimin’s back to guide her toward the mirrors, making jimin’s heart flutter. “let’s go over here.”
jimin glanced back at aeri, who gave her a big thumbs up, before turning her attention back to yn.
jimin couldn't help but notice how yn adjusted the baseball cap on her head, finding it oddly attractive. she then turned to jimin , her smile still big.
“so, what move do you need help with?" she asked warmly.
jimin stared for a second before thinking quick, “you know the one, before the song finishes I can’t seem to get it right.” she lies.
yn tilts her head confused because that was an awfully easy move but smiles nevertheless and nods.
as yn began to demonstrate the move, her hands lightly guiding jimin’s posture, jimin couldn't help but feel a rush of heat to her cheeks. 
yn’s touch was gentle yet firm, sending shivers down jimin’s spine and making her heart race. Trying to maintain her composure, jimin focused on mimicking yn’s movements, but every brush of yn’s fingers against her skin sent a jolt of electricity through her body, leaving her utterly flustered.
“are you getting it?” yn asked looking at jimin, who nodded rapidly, “good.” she said smoothly, “I honestly thought you had it from the beginning, it’s a pretty easy move.” she laughed making jimin laugh nervously.
“oh.. yeah no I was really struggling.” she says to yn who laughed quietly to herself, “you’re a really good teacher though and dancer.”
a smile immediately makes its way to yn’s face, “thank you, you should come to the studio I’m at sometimes to really see me.” she suggests making jimin want to giggle and kick her feet.
“just jerk right?” jimin says surprised at how chill she sounds.
“yup.”
“yn!”
they both turned to see one of yn’s fellow dancers calling her over. yn turned to Jimin, her smile apologetic yet genuine.
"I should see what they want," she said, "but it was fun helping you though. I better see you at the studio!" with that, she walked over to her friends, leaving jimin feeling a mix of disappointment and anticipation for their next encounter.
should I go?
she went.
jimin stood in shock as she watched yn dance in front of the camera she had four other men dancing with her but for some reason was dancing more masculine than them.
she was just too good, at fitting whatever vibe that was asked of her, another thing that jimin admired about her.
once the song was done, she saw yn turn to her and flash her infamous bright smile towards her.
she had to keep her giggle down when yn made her way over to her, “you actually came!” 
“I wanted to see you in serious action.” jimin said smiling at yn who wrapped her arms around her in a hug, she has to thank aeri for this. 
"so... what did you think?" yn asked after releasing the aespa member, stepping close to jimin. "I wasn’t even supposed to do this dance, but I was called in last minute."
"It was good! really good," jimin replied, flustered by how close yn was standing to her, “I’m definitely gonna come more.”
“you lost definitely should,” yn said before looking at the exit door to the dance room, “wanna come with me to get water?”
“sure.” jimin said immediately following behind yn who made her way to the exit.
she watched as yn put money in the vending machine and took out her water, “so have any plans this weekend?” yn asks her as she leans against the wall and takes a sip out this water.
“not really just practicing.” jimin responds as she watches yn wipe her sweat with the bottom of her shirt, “you?”
“just shopping, I want to get this cute pink dress I saw the other day, it has a bow on the back and everything, the model looked so hot in it.”
“I’ll definitely show it to you later when I get my phone.”
she liked how comfortable yn made the setting she just knew how to keep the conversation going, maybe this would be a good time to ask her to hang out and not a normal hang out like hang out.
please say yes
aeri would just tell her to bite the bullet and ask.
she let out a deep breath, “yn?”
“mmh?”
“my eye has been on you for a while… I was just wondering if you would like to hang out?”
“hang out? sure.”
“like hang out hang out.”
“oh…”
yn get up from the wall and turned to face jimin fully, “jimin I would love to hang out, but not in the way you want to too, sorry to break it to you but I’m straight.”
um, yn straight? this has to be a prank.
“oh…”
she’s gonna kill aeri.
399 notes · View notes
ashwhowrites · 21 hours
Note
hi!! can I request stevie boy loving to suck on the readers boobs while they make up? 🫣🤭
You definitely can. My brain went in three directions with this because I couldn't tell if you meant makeup as in a fight, makeup as in doing makeup, or a type and meant wake up. So I went with the first one. It's a short blurb.
I hope this is what you wanted and you enjoy it. Thank you for requesting🫶🏻
Sucker
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"Steve, I'm sorry," Y/N said, but the boy still cried as he kept his head down. "Come here," she cooed, he crawled into her arms and allowed her to hug him. The couple sat on the bed as they embraced.
"I'm sorry for crying. I know I'm sensitive." Steve apologized against her chest.
"Shh, you don't have to be sorry. I'm sorry for being insensitive and hurting your feelings. "What can I do to make you feel better?" She asked
Steve felt his cheeks burn as he thought about it. He was embarrassed to ask, but he had something in mind. And it had been in his mind since their first date.
Steve was a boob guy and he will be one until the day he dies. To him, they had so much purpose and looked great in everything.
He liked to use them as a pillow when they cuddled. He melted into her with the way she played through his hair.
He liked to feel them against his chest as they hugged.
He loved seeing them in her outfits, hidden or out on display.
He loved the way they bounced in his face as she rode him.
He loved feeling them in his hands when he ate her out. He loved how sensitive her nipples were to his touch. He sucked on them slightly during sex and played with them with his teeth.
But he hasn't done what he's been craving to do
"Steve?" she asked, leaning back as she looked at him
"I don't know...I'm scared to ask," he admitted
Y/N sighed and pulled back. She let go of his body but grabbed his hand. "It's okay. Just tell me. I'm your girlfriend, I'd never judge you."
Steve took a deep breath and looked into her eyes, then down to her chest. She wore a loose shirt and he could see her hard nipples looking back at him. He looked back at her face and blushed.
"I um...I think I know what will help me feel better," he said shyly, "can you take your shirt off?"
She bit back a laugh, "You wanna see my boobs?" A small chuckle escaped as she took off her shirt. He beamed with happiness when they came into his view. His hands already reaching forward to cup them.
"I love your boobs," he complimented, squeezing the flesh. "Can I...maybe suck on them?"He shyly looked at her, his hands still massaging her breasts.
Y/N was silent for a minute. She wasn't sure what to say, the question went in a direction she didn't expect. But she'd do anything to make her boy happy.
"Of course, do you want me to like lie down?" She asked
Steve looked at her shocked. The way she just agreed and asked how he wanted to do it made his heart melt.
"Um yeah, maybe like the way we cuddle? Where you play with my hair?" He whispered as he grew more shy under her watchful eyes.
"Yes, pretty boy," she said, she leaned over and pecked his lips, his hand moved away from her chest as he cupped her face and kissed her back.
She pulled back with a smile. She moved down on the bed and rested her back against the mattress. Steve took off his shirt, joining hers on the floor.
He crawled on top of her and placed his head on her chest, his legs tangled with hers. He lazily wrapped his lips around her left nipple, swirling it with his tongue before he began to softly suck.
He moaned in delight as her hands ran through his hair. He sucked gently and it made Y/N more relaxed than she thought it would.
His eyes were closed as he felt himself calming down. He popped off her left nipple with a pop. Then he wrapped his lips around her right one and began to suck.
He switched back and forth until his eyes grew heavy. Her fingers were in his hair as his sucking slowly came to a stop, but his lips were still wrapped around her.
She smiled to herself as he fell asleep. She continued to play with his hair as she closed her eyes. Time ticked until she fell asleep beside him.
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171 notes · View notes
44st4rs · 2 days
Text
YOU GOTTA DRESS THE PART!
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✫ ˚♡ ⋆。 ❀ synopsis: Your new boy toy made himself at home with just the clothes on his back. When asked where all his stuff's gone, all Toji can do is point to the same clothes he appeared to you with. If he's gonna play the role, might as well spoil him too!
✫ ˚♡ ⋆。 ❀ pairings: widow!fem!reader x toji fushiguro
✫ ˚♡ ⋆。 ❀ cw: 10k + words, pwp, dubcon, talks/mentions of death, use of petnames, use of an oc, vouyerism, exhibitionism, mirror sex, couch sex, oral(m. receiving), cûm eating, reader gets a little shy, fingering, clït slapping, brat tamer!toji, unprotected sex, panty stealing 
✫ ˚♡ ⋆。 ❀ words from chris: part two is here and i don't know how it got...longer! oh well, it's nasty...and that's exactly how i love my fics to be, xoxo!
part 1! • the man for hire m.list
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ONE NEW MESSAGE FROM: XXX-XXX-XXXX
PAYMENT: + ¥ 40,000
Forty thousand yen stare Toji back in his awe-struck face. His thumb's back to swiping again, refreshing the screen as if he's expecting the amount to disappear magically.
But they're not, the five bolded digits simply return each time he dismisses them. 
So he blinks. His eyebrow arches, his eyes squint, and he blinks at his phone blankly until something like a smile crosses Toji's features. In a single night, Toji finds himself dancing in Lady Luck's palm. He's got a roof over his head, a nice gig, and a pretty lady at his side—and all he really asked for was a few bucks for food.
He wants to mull over the second thoughts that arise—what if it's just a dream? What if it's too good to be true? 
But the numbers on his phone don't lie and the wafting heat of the skillet he's working over isn't a dream. 
"She didn't even tell me what she wanted..." Toji mutters as he places his phone down on the granite countertop. He teases the browning edges of the omelette with the spatula he kept in hand.
He doesn't usually take people's requests to heart, but for you—something about you makes him hang up his old ways. It's not like you were kind about it, demanding breakfast right before dozing off in his arms.
When he woke up a few hours earlier, Toji faced your sleeping form. He remembers how he captured you under his fawning gaze. He drank in the shallow breaths flooding your lungs, the supple pout pushed out onto your lips, and the way you wore sleep perfectly.
He didn't know how he ended up cradling you in his arms, but for some reason, Toji was willing to ignore the thought in place of the reality before him. You got comfortable with him fast—or just the presence of having someone else in bed with you once again.
That's when he remembers the notion sweeping over to leave your side with a kiss. A tender peck right on the corner of your mouth to let you know someway and somehow that he wasn't going too far. 
Even after hours have passed and daylight's entered the room, he still can't put together why he did that—but regret isn't one of those sentiments. 
But now he's here, dressed in nothing but the jeans he came to you with cooking you that desired breakfast. Between each flip of the omelette, Toji's eyes scan about your kitchen—gawking at how every countertop is a thick chiseled slab of red granite, gold accents for the handles of all the drawers, cabinets, and the refrigerator. 
A vast island stands right underneath yet another chandelier, catching the peeking rays of sun from the windows. Barstools outline the outer wall along the kitchen's rim, making it the perfect penthouse kitchen.
When he first stumbled into your kitchen, he could only stare. And he still is, but the shock ebbs away with each dish he turns his attention to. 
He's ending his working shift with the final plate for breakfast, the small salad joining the ranks of miso soup, steamed rice and rolled omlettes. While Toji's hoping you eat it all, he can't help but entertain the thought of how trusting you are of him.
Maybe it's because of his background and the world he hails from, but to ask a stranger to cook breakfast? What if he's malicious enough to poison you and rob you right in front of your dying eyes? Nothing's stopping him either, but he has his reasons. And then again, he's the one who initiated the verbal contract out of thin air.
You two were made for each other. 
The soft creaks of bed springs pull Toji out of his mind and his eyes down the hallway again, piquing his attention. 
He's graced by the sight of you, clutching that damned robe as you saunter down the hallway. The lazy steps of your stroll lead you beneath the sun's rays, kissing your skin with its gentle glow.   
"Good...morning..." he fumbles over, his blown hues fixed on you. 
You catch Toji's gawking stare, a grin teetering on your lips.
"G'morning, Toji. Thank you for cooking," you hum, slipping into a barstool across from Toji's workstation. 
"You look real pretty this morning, Princess," Toji purrs as a dopey smile grows across his lips. 
"You keep calling me that...why?" you quiz, stretching your arms along the smooth countertop.
"Cause...you're basically living in a castle—hm, more like a tower. And it looks like a castle in here. Feel like Princess is the only thing that comes to mind whenever I look at you."
You lean into Toji's ardor, cradling your chin within your soft palm."That would make you my knight in shining armor, no?"
Toji snickers as he looks down, his hand coming to rub the hairs at the back of his neck. "No, I'm just some guy trying to make a living. Thanks for the honor though, I'll do my best."
Your eyes roam over Toji and the display of his bare chest. It's a broad canvas of muscle, stretched beneath skin, scars, and the ripples of veins. Maybe there's another plus in this little arrangement if you get to wake up to this view every morning. You shamelessly let yourself wander over him, tracing each crest of his abs and the faint streak of hair beneath his navel.
Until you find yourself clinging to a familiar sight. 
"Toji," you begin, "Isn't it uncomfortable to wear jeans this early?"
"Eh, it's whatever. Don't got nothing else."
"Nothing else? What do you mean?"
Toji leans over the counter, his features softening as he closes the distance between you both. He could laugh at your naïveté, but he knows you understand him—he didn't stutter. But he'll give in just to watch your face fix itself into some new cute expression, shocked by the state you found him in. 
"What you met me in is all I got. 'Cept for the extra brush I found in your bathroom. By the way, who keeps sex toys under the sink?"
A look of utter shock breaks across your face—your eyes shot apart and your jaw slack. "No wonder there was a new brush next to mine! You went through my stuff?!"
Again Toji feigns innocence, hands waving defensively. "Calm down! I like to keep clean. I didn't mean to but I didn't wanna wake you up when I have common sense. Took a shower, brushed my teeth, and now here we are."
"Toji...fine. But after we eat, we're going out."
"Where are we going?" He asks, reaching for two plates from the nearest cabinet. 
"Ginza, we gotta get you some clothes, some shoes...eh, guess a little bit of everything."
"Ginza? Isn't there some malls 'round here we could go to instead?"
"Course there is, but I'm taking you to a place I know...personally."
"You're really spoiling me now. Turning into a sugar mommy—Oh! Should I just call you—"
"Keep talking and it's coming out of your paycheck."
Toji brings two plates with him as he settles into a stool beside you, placing the fragile dish in front of you. It's a collection of his labors–a small bowl of miso soup, rolled omelet slices, white rice, and a side salad made of tomato and cucumbers. 
Toji shoots you one last smirk before turning into his own meal, "Hope you like it."
"Wow," you marvel, grinning at the colorful display, "I haven't eaten like this in a while."
"Huh? You've got all these ingredients and the space to cook. If you don't do that, then what do you eat?"
"Just some fruit, tea, some sandwiches. I rarely cook for myself these days, but it's getting better."
"Hm, is that right?"
Toji places an outstretched digit beneath the contours of your chin, tilting your head towards him. He's giving you a soft stare, his blue hues fanning over your stuffed cheeks. 
"Don't worry about it. Way back when, I used to cook a lot, so I remember some recipes. But 'm not doing it alone, deal?"
You nod at Toji as he swipes along the plump curves of your visage, " 'Kay."
For a man you just hired, he's too kind to you. Since last night, he's been nothing but careful with you. He acts as if he's handling something so precious
"Toji, why are you so nice to me?" You ask between a bite of the fluffy steamed rice.
"Dunno," he shrugs, "This is the only way I know how to treat women. My last wives brought this side out of me. And as for you, it just feels natural. Why...want me to be an asshole to you?"
"No...it was just a thought," you mumble softly. 
Then again, that's a passive answer Toji put together on the spot. How could he tell you about the sadness that lingers behind your eyes?  It's not apparent to most, but there's a dark haze that blends itself into the color of the iris., dimming the soul's light beneath grief. Toji knows those eyes better than anyone else, especially when he himself dons the same look from time to time. 
You cover it up behind a snarky attitude, but he knows that's not who you really are. Something tells him you're actually the complete opposite—a free-spirited soul who makes her own rules in life, a woman who leads with passion before anything else. Someone who opens up as they get comfortable, something he's noticing rather quickly. 
And a woman just met one of the world's seven wonders too soon. He even said it to himself as he watched you snuggle up against his chest last night; for however long he ended up staying with you, he wanted to get to know you...the real you. 
He can't stop thinking about it, how your bodies fell prey to one another within minutes last night. Your body fitting perfectly in his hands, responding to his every beck and call. Even now he's staring at your lips, swearing that just one more kiss could heal him from the inside out. 
That's not something he's experienced before, even with his tattered love history. A whim brought him to your doorstep and this whim is what's leading you both down some new path together. 
So if he had to wake up to make breakfast, accompany you on some one-sided outings, and give in to your fancies to see the real you, he'd do it all. 
With his last bite, Toji places his chopsticks onto his clear plate. He glances over to you, your plate mirroring his own. 
"C'mon," he announces as he stands from his seat. " We gotta get going, right?" I'll clean up here, go shower. Oh and Princess?"
"Yeah?" 
Toji catches your eye with a stern squint. "Don't. Take. Long. Twenty minutes. Two. Zero."
"Fine," you scoff, standing on the tile floor at last. 
Toji watches as you walk off, your hips bearing a salacious sway with each step. 
"Fucking minx," he mumbles to himself as he tends to the cleaning.
Twenty minutes later, Toji strolls over to the couch with a much-needed break on his mind. He grabs his shirt from the couch, slipping the gray top over his shoulder and down his chest before settling into the couch's plush chocolate leather. He's back on his phone, scrolling endlessly through his emails and past texts to pass what seems to be an eternity. His eyes fall onto the time displayed on his screen: 11:24. 
You're four minutes over the limit. Should he knock on the door? What if he finds you naked? Now that he thinks about it,  that wouldn't bother him much, but his point still stands. 
"Y/N! It's not twenty minutes anymore! Hurry up pl-"
"...Toji! I'm ready," you call out, breaking him out of his thoughts. 
The soft clicks echoing along the floor breaks Toji's train of thought. As he sits up, his eyes fall on you wearing a sage-green silk dress with a pair of strappy white heels. Your handbag matches your shoes, a detail that Toji finds himself appreciating with a mindless grin. 
He stands to greet you, sheepishly slipping his hands into his pockets, "Wow, got me feeling a little underdressed now."
You meet Toji's gaze, arching an eyebrow at his words. "Well, don't. If you're gonna be living with me, we've gotta have you dressed the part. But I mean...if you want that. I'm not trying to force you or anything, I just have a feeling that you might want some options."
Toji joins your side, his hand eagerly resting along your lower back. He's wearing a dumb smirk on his face, watching you click the elevator doors open. 
"Aww, trying to be considerate, aren't you?"
"Shut up. Let's get going."
Toji follows behind you, stepping into the small chamber. The scene of the living room closes out before him and he's left with you to muse over. You and that pretty outfit that he's obsessing over. His hand has yet to move from you, not that he has the intention to. He doesn't care if it's shameless or outright wrong, Toji just can't help but stare at you. It's barely been a full day and just your beauty has Toji willingly tied around your finger. 
You could ask anything of him and he'd be ready to oblige. In truth, he's brimming with half the nerve to tug that dress up your waist and take you on right here and now. But that's too brash and he knows that. Instead, he's hoping you'll leave him something for the chase of imagination.
"Y/N? Look at me for a sec," Toji hums as his fingers tap against the fabric of your dress. 
At Toji's demand, your eyes trace up to his own, the azure hues blown wide. The hand he keeps at your back takes on a new path, sinking along the contour of your hip. He's pulling you dangerously close, the fading scent of the cologne on his shirt filling your nose. You aren't even aware of how quickly you give into his advance, your hand sinking into the shielded profile of his chest. 
"Give me a kiss."
"...No."
"Why not?" 
"Because," you shrug, "I said so."
Toji's pout is a cute one. His bottom lip bears all the jutting weight, his eyes widen with each mindless blink, and the huff that breaks into the air almost makes you want to take back your cold response. It takes all of your strength from laughing at his ebbing resolve, your teeth biting down at the innards of your cheeks.
"Because...you said so?" Toji repeats as he points a finger towards you. 
"Yup. 'Cause I said so."
The soft ding of the opening elevator doors pulls you and Toji from the growing heat of the conversation, revealing the building's lobby. 
The softly dimmed space draws you and Toji out of the elevator. You've seen it a million times but it's a sight that claims you with ease. The lobby relies on the power of natural lighting, but with its ambient lighting, it's nothing short of welcoming. The polished cream walls wear tile and the green vines of outgrown plants. The only piece of furniture to exist on the waxy hardwood floor is the front desk, occupied by a certain someone.
"Oh, good morning, Y/N! Out for the day?" a voice greets, earning you and Toji to find the source. 
The voice stems from the doorman, Daisuke. He's sixty-five, tall with a softened physique of muscle. Only a handful of wrinkles line his fair skin—the typical crow's feet and smile lines. His eyes are of a deep chocolate, but so soft on whoever they land on. His salt and pepper hair stops just shy of his ears, barely hiding his array of piercings. 
Daisuke always works the day shift, with his younger counterpart claiming the night. From conversations you've had over the years, Daisuke was a delinquent back in his younger days but mellowed out once he settled down with his current wife. 
You and Toji find yourselves journeying toward Daisuke, you both resting along the rim of the shiny wooden surface.
Daisuke sets his attention on you, smiling as he awaits a response. 
"Yup! Going down to Ami's for the day!" your words paired with a grin. 
"Good, Good...good..." Daisuke trails off. His sights fall over Toji, scanning every bit of Toji's face. Daisuke's sights fall over Toji, his brown hues narrowing down over Toji.
His disapproval is sketched out with a frown, his upper lip arched with disgust. Daisuke isn't one to hide his opinion, especially towards the man trying to court you. He simply stares at Toji until he's ready to speak, his tone honoring his distaste. 
"Who might this be, Miss?"
"Oh! Um...this is Toji...he's uh—"
"An old friend," Toji quickly interrupts. "I'm always traveling for work and finally caught a long enough break to visit Y/N."
"E-Exactly! An old friend..." you nervously fumble out, attaching a weary smile to settle your case.
"Mhm...well, I'm not gonna stop you any longer. Have fun you two!" Daisuke sensing your unease. He waves goodbye to you and Toji as you both walk away towards the doors. 
Your digits reach for the golden handle of the door, only for Toji to take the lead. With a heavy push, he opens the door for you to pass. But he's waiting for you to get close, so close that he's right behind you, pressing his chest flush against your back.
He leans in, the heat of his breath brushing past the shell of your ear. "Allow me...friend."
You peer back at Toji, rolling your eyes at his comment. "You called yourself my friend, don't get mad at me...friend."
"Fine, what were you going to call me then?"
The question plagues you into a moment of silence, an audible gasp escaping from your lips. All you can do is blink at him, your fluffy lashes batting themselves until you can finally utter something back to Toji's waiting ears. 
"You...you talk too much. Let's just get down to Ginza, alright?"
"Yeah, alright," he sighs, walking beside you once more. 
But there's some truth between the lines of Toji's sassy remarks. 
Despite Toji's hand slipping into your own as you begin your trek, you can't bring yourself to deny him. His presence carries an ease that calms your heart. It's so calming that you can't begin to pinpoint what he is to you. A stranger? To an extent, but in time that title is going to fade away. If he's a friend, then he shouldn't be this kind with you. A lover, no, but the tendencies aren't so far off. 
So....who is Toji Fushiguro to you?
─── ・ 。゚☆: *.☽ .* :☆゚. ───
A six-minute train ride and an additional ten-minute walk carry you and Toji face to face with a small building at the end of the block. To the unfamiliar eye,  nothing about the store stands out. Not the white brick, not the pink awning, not the vintage door with a grand gold door knob.
And with an unfamiliar eye like the one Toji has, he's scanning over the building. You've brought him to a tailor but that's the opposite of what he needs. He quickly glances over his appearance, there wasn't a hole that he could spot but maybe you have better eyes than he did. He's confused but that doesn't stop him from opening the door for you.
"A tailor? My clothes don't need fixing, Princess," Toji notes as he reaches for the door handle.
"I know, Toji. We're getting you custom-made clothes, silly," you giggle, slipping past the opened door. 
The soft scent of clean linen pulls you inside the quaint shop, Toji coming to stand by your side. Your eyes rave about the open floor, not a clothing rack, display table, or mannequin is in sight. Thick palettes of cloth hang from the wall, replacing the initial white-painted walls in splashes of color. 
There's cotton, silk, wool, chiffon, and denim just from what you can name. A few doors line the right wall, and the kanji for fitting rooms are inscribed into the wood.  Your eyes fall onto another door, placed alone and along the furthest wall of the shop labeled with a name that's too far to read. 
Roaming steps lead you deeper inside, the presence of the service desk landing in view. Your curious gaze hinges on the figure of a woman. She's busied herself with something in a notebook, her pen furiously translating her thoughts. Long thick locks of gray shroud her face as she's bent over along the desk's surface, but with the smile stretching across your face, you knew who the woman was all too well.  
"Ami!" you squeal, waltzing towards her with open arms. 
Ami breaks away from her work to meet you, her cheeks pulled taunt by a full-bodied smile. As she steps away from the counter, you glance over Ami giddily. From the last time you visited her, she hasn't changed. 
She dons a veil of gray with grace these days, not a  strand of her rich black hair left. She's still wearing that soft expression—her doe eyes wide and brown, her brows eased and plucked thin, her skin fair and gentle, and her lips wear a forever smile. 
"Oh, my sweet Y/N!" Ami beams as she pulls you into her arms, the sleeves of her blue sweater pushing along your skin.
"You're glowing, my dear. And you're wearing the dress, it looks so—well, who might this be?" She cuts off, directing her sights to Toji.
You step back from Ami to join Toji's side, giving him a kind yet warning stare. You can't control what he's planning to say, but from what you've gathered so far, he's a blunt man. A blunt man who calls the situation exactly how he sees fit—without shame. 
"Hi, I'm Toji," he waves. " Y/N here is my mistr—"
"Friend! He's going to say friend!" You blurt out, welcoming an awkward silence. 
You don't have to look at Toji, the heat of a grim squint tells you everything you need to know. You're back to using that damned word, but what else fits? As much as you want to calm him, selling this story to someone as keen as Ami is taking all your focus and energy not to crack beneath the pressure.
Your heart's running on nervous fumes, an echoing pang clogging your ears. All you can do is suffer beneath Ami's careful observation, her big brown doe eyes thinning into a stern squint. She's standing there with her arms folded to her chest, darting her sights from you and Toji. 
You're wearing a smile but it's a shaky one, the corners of your mouth quivering with each passing second. You don't know what sort of smile she sees and that's the fact that scares you. You can't tell if she's buying it, but she isn't prying at you for an honest reply. 
"Well...it's nice to meet you, Toji! So, what can I do for my favorite customer?"
A sigh of relief pours from your chest, as you lean into Toji's hold, your head resting against his shoulder. His hand quickly laces around your waist, instantly ruining all of your hard work. 
So much for being a friend. 
"It's him, I wanna get him some custom clothing. Whatever he wants."
"Great! Then I'll leave the hard work to you! Do you mind measuring him?"
"Measure me? Isn't a large enough for me?" Toji asks, turning to you with knitted brows.
"Well, yes a large is enough for you, but it doesn't complement you. Here, I'll show you."
Taking his hand into your own, you lead Toji before a mirror, the glass pane slotted between two fitting room doors. In the reflection, you stand beside Toji, your hand running along the front of his shirt.
"Your proportions aren't something an average man like you has, which means that there's always gonna be spots where there's too much or too little fabric. Like here..."
The tips of your fingers pinch at the hem of Toji's gray thermal, tugging at the loose fabric surrounding his waist. "You've got a small waist but wide shoulders. This shirt looks decent on you, but it's literally just sitting on your body. Let's see if a top made with a bit more for your shape works better."
"Oh, I don't care about that," Toji begins, his stare falling onto you. "As long as I got something on my body. But since you're going out your way for me...I'll try anything once."
You give Toji a faint smirk, his charm's enough to make any woman fall for him. 
"Ami," you announced. "We'll be in the fitting room. I'll be done with his measurements in a bit!" 
You guide Toji to the lone door at the back of the shop, your hand reaching for the sliver handle–until Toji catches a particular detail. 
"Huh...who's name is that on the door?" 
"Oh, that's mine. It's a private fitting room made just for my late husband and I," your digits tracing the engraved characters.
"How'd you land that—"
"Oh, Toji!" Ami calls out before you both disappear into the room. "Do you have any fabric preferences? I wanna pick some out while I wait for the measurement."
"Nope, just use your judgment, ma'am," his words inducing a smile along Ami's features.
"Great! There's measuring tape in the room already. So go get measured and I'll pick out some colors and fabric for you!"
You give Ami a nod before sinking past the doorframe with Toji. The door opens up into a dimly lit circular room, welcoming you back with the soft scent of vanilla.
"Just how we left it..."you whisper to yourself, looking around the room. 
It's not a huge room, but it's comfortable for two people. Panes of glass line the walls, looping around the curved walls. In the center of the room stands a toffee leather divan bolted to the ground, accompanied by a small glass table with magazines, a candle, and a roll of measuring tape. 
"Wow...so this is all yours?" Toji gawks as he strolls around the room. Everywhere he turns, his reflection is everywhere—along with your own. He's stuck on studying your agile steps to the small coffee table, taking the measuring tape in hand. You're twirling it in the palm of your hand as a smile crowds your visage. 
"Yeah. Years back, my husband and I were in the neighborhood and came across this place. At the time we needed some clothes for an event coming up and Ami was willing to make them just for us. When we got the order and saw how nicely they fit us, we were sold. My husband and I invested in this place and had it renovated. As a gift, Ami wanted us to build a room just for us and that's exactly what we're standing in."
"So...long ago," you muse. The memory isn't that old but it feels like an eternity has passed since that fateful day. The room that was made as a gift was merely nothing more than a memoir of memories made with you and your late husband. 
Until your drifting sights latch on to Toji. He's standing a few feet from you with his hands in his pockets. His head's fallen into a tilt, concern weaving into his features.
"Never mind that, it's in the past now. Ami also works with socialites, doctors, lawyers, governors, anyone really," you brush off swiftly, spinning around to face Toji. 
"Mhm..." he mumbles. "So what do you need from me?"
"Could you take your shirt off and stand in front of me? And just relax."
Your instructions are followed down to the letter, Toji presenting himself before you. He tugs his shirt over his head and tosses it onto the divan's cushion. He keeps his arms at his sides, waiting for your next instructions. 
"Good...now just let me..." you mutter, pressing the white strip of leather to Toji's skin.
Silence falls over the room, but the tension between you and Toji grows with no bounds. You're gentle when you touch him, placing the marked leather along the curves of Toji's body—his broad shoulders, thick biceps, and sculpted forearms. You save his chest for last, carefully placing the measuring tape along the hull of his rippling pecs.
All Toji can do is watch you hard at work. He's picked up on a quirk of yours, how you bite your lip whenever you're focused. He's touched honestly with how much effort you're putting into him, all this effort put for him. 
"I still need an answer, y'know." Your words pulling Toji from his thoughts.
"For?" 
You roll the tape back into a small ball, finally setting your attention on Toji. You stare at him with kind eyes, letting your touch explain all he needs to know. The pads of your digits trace the burly hull of his chest, languidly following the rigid print of his faded scars. 
"These. How'd you end up with 'em?"
A chuckle rings from his lungs, Toji's chest rippling beneath your wandering touch. He's looking at you, his stare flickering at every inch of your face. Underneath his dim lighting, he's intrigued by the glow behind your eyes. It's a blur of curiosity with the hues of tease. It's a deadly mix—the same deadly mix that rushes through Toji's veins every single day.
"Would you believe me if I said I'm not the best guy? I get into fights for a living and these are simply my reminders of what I do."
"That's fine."
You're...unfazed. He has to blink a few times to register it all—but you simply present him with the same look. He just told you he's no good. Maybe it's too subtle of a warning.
So...He tries again. 
"And what if I said my hands are dirty? I'm a selfish man who only lives for himself and the money I make. What would you say about that?"
"That's fine, too."
"God, you're so—"
"Stupid? Crazy?" you interrupt. "If you wanted to hurt me, I gave you all the chances to...and I'm still here. Paint yourself to be the bad guy if you want, try to scare me away...but I don't care. We have a deal remember? And breaking a deal is just bad business."
A smirk cracks along Toji's lips, "Oh, I'm gonna like you."
"Come on, I need to measure you more. Take your pants off too," you huff, stepping back from Toji.
Toji's hand rustles with the metal clasp of his belt, yanking the leather strap loose around his hips, yanking his belt loose. His pants follow the same pattern, the unclasped button granting him the freedom of space. The denim falls from his waist, revealing a black pair of briefs sitting snugly around him. 
"I thought you didn't have extra clothes," you ponder aloud as you drop to your knees. 
"I always keep an extra pair of underwear."
"Is that right? Well, just stand still and we'll be done soon," your focus already shifting to the small red numbers lacing around his thighs. 
And it's a simple task asked of him, but nothing's ever simple with Toji. He's doing his best to behave but innocence isn't and has never been his forte. It's because of you he's struggling beneath a pesky heat that's running amok over his body. He's just too wary of how close you were to him. 
He's catching your hot breaths with the front of his briefs, bringing a flurry of twitches to strum through his cock. He has to stand there and ignore how your soft hands travel along his thighs, working so hard to get an accurate number. 
Why oh why do you have to look so cute on your knees for him? 
Toji's so drawn by his racing imagination, that he nearly misses your question. 
"How do you like pants to fit?"
"Oh...some days tight. Some days loose." 
"C'mon," you scoff, peering up at Toji. "I need a real answer."
All he can offer you is a coy smile, hiding all his intentions behind the gesture. "Sorry, Princess, I just can't focus right now. Ask me the question again."
"And...what are you doing that you can't focus?" your lips pushing out a pout. 
"Don't do that—you know why. I mean, you look so pretty on your knees, doing all this work for me. Can't blame me for these thoughts, they just...come in, y'know?"
You shake your head, "Toji, focus. Let's be pro—"
"Don't shut me down like that. It's always been a fantasy of mine, a quickie in a fitting room."
Toji's hand breaks away from his side to tease you. His thick digits curl beneath your chin, tilting your head to bear the searing heat of his gaze.  
"Can't tell me you haven't thought of it too, Princess."
A sigh breaks from your lungs as you drop the roll of measuring tape on the floor. Your hands are eager to be filled, stretched around something thick. It's no wonder that your digits choose Toji's thighs for the job. He fits perfectly in your palm, but he's just so big that your two hands alone can't form a proper grip around him. Your only resort is to tease him, dragging your nails to paint his skin red.
"...And maybe I have. Doesn't mean I should give into it."
Your nails trail up his sides, down the developed curves of his abs, and slowly hang right under his navel. He's playing it off well, but the chills that lick Toji's nerves tell you all you need to know. Antipcipation's making him sensitive from this point on, a ploy that's set to work in your favor. You dress his skin with a single line, the faint flare of crimson mapping your path down to his pelvis.
"Toji?"
"Yeah, Princess?"
"So, it's fine for me to do such a dirty job now?"
Toji's thumb swipes along your bottom lip, "Shhh, just for today, it's okay. I know that greedy mouth wants to taste me."
Toji allows himself to fall into lust by settling into the comfort of the divan, the cushions dipping beneath his weight. He isn't wasting any time to have your pretty lips wrapped around his cock. He already went back on his word—and might as well follow through with his lustful agenda for the moment. He makes quick work of his briefs, tugging the black cotton down his legs. The concealed bulge of his breaks free from its stifling confines, his dribbling cock slapping against his stomach. 
All you grant him is a grin of approval as you crawl between his legs, your hands surfacing atop his thighs. But that grin you wear so proudly fades away with the first peck you place along his tanned length. Your lips are met by the quivers of spry veins rising beneath Toji's skin, a testament to the growing pit in his tummy.
Your eyes don't dare to part from his, basking beneath the ravenous glare he's cast upon you. All Toji can do is watch—watch as your playful kisses paint his cock in the pinky hues of your lipgloss. 
He's cracking right before you, his lungs barely grasping the thickening air. He's hard, painfully hard at that. All his thoughts rush straight to the crown of his cock, sending an aching headache to rile the swelling tip. He's falling back into the nasty habit of impatience thanks to the mess of pearly tears trailing down his girth, leaving you to catch every drop. 
Your lips curve along the juicy tip, suckling at the thick vein that flushes out the underside of his cock. You're so gentle with him that he's flinching, his hips bucking into the air. He's whimpering at your tender display, but that's not all you're pulling from him. Creamy beads drip from Toji's slit, dyeing your skin in his shade of white. 
"Mhm, stop teasing me, Princess. Making my cock all pretty with your kisses. Want me you cum just like too, don't—Shit!"
Your puckering pout stretches along the head of Toji's cock, pulling him into your mouth inch by inch. The hot, salty tears of his precum greet you first, the instant reminder flooding your dumbed brain. His essence is something to relish, that deep musk sinking past your senses. Just the taste of him stirs up your mind, prying at some hidden carnal urge.
You're hungry for him, that hidden urge turned into the sin of gluttony. You're hungry for every drop of him, to have his flavor simmer on your tongue for as long as possible. 
That newfound urge of yours, your mouth eagerly swallows Toji down to the last inch, your nose cutting into the dark bushel of hairs. But he's so big that you can't keep this up forever. It's a last resort but all you can do is form a loose fist at the base of his cock, softly squeezing at his girth.
"Thaaaat's it, take it all down your throat," Toji cheers, his palm cupping your cheek gently. 
It's such a dirty display that Toji can't help but stare—your lips split around his girth. You're leaving him to gawk stupidly at you. There's spit carelessly spilling from the corners of your mouth, whimpers singing from your housed throat and pretty tears staining your skin. You've barely started and you're already driving yourself into a mess on his behalf.
Just his type of woman—so shy, so reserved, but so fucking nasty that not even a picture would be enough proof. 
As you find a cadence to strum along to, you suck your cheeks in around Toji. It's a gentle cocoon, wrapping his cock's wrapped in a heaven of velvety bliss. You even enlist your hand to help with your salacious endeavors, the balled fist dragging up and down Toji's sticky length. Now, you're really spoiling him, pitting him to bear the silky fat writhing around his plump cock. 
He can't help it, lifting his hips to meet your worked mouth. His hands race to brace the back of your head, his palms smothered over your ears. With the brash snap of his hips, you've driven yourself numb to everything that wasn't Toji.
You've even become numb to your surroundings, nearly dismissing the soft knock on the room's door. 
"Y/N! I'm gonna get started on some samples. What are the measurements, darling?"Ami's voice filters through the stained air.
"Better hurry up 'nd tell her. Can't have poor Ami watching her favorite client make a mess of herself," Toji taunts, his hand coming to replace your grip over his cock.
"Oh, yes! His height is 188 cm, waist 72.6 cm, chest 110cm, upper arm 42.5 cm, wrist 19 cm, and collar 38cm! W-We'll come back for the pants another day!"
"Wonderful! I'll get right to work then!" Ami hums. Her shadow beneath the door's crack disappears, taking along that plunging throb in your tummy.
"Toji! That was too—"
The tip of Toji's cock taps at your lips, halting any words to fall from your busy mouth. "Shhhh, I can't wait any more! Finish what you started...or...should I?"
Before you can get a word out, Toji's stuffing his cock back into your mouth, selfishly launching himself back into that drunken bliss with a feverish drive. 
With each buck of his hips, Toji's shamelessly engraving himself into you—every vein, every curve, every detail of him engrained to the inner plush of your cheeks. He's addicted to it—to you. Your mouth's just so warm, so soft, so tender. He's losing himself to you without the hope of ever pulling back.
"Oh, that's fuckin—Shiiiit, please....please, y're gonna make me cum!" He chokes out.
Through the budding mist of your lashes, you peer up at Toji, studying his battered form. His teeth are gritted, his fists balled up and with the curse of twitches riddling his cock tells you one thing—he's ready to cum. Toji tosses his head back, the devastation crashing through his body. You're bringing him so close to the edge, but it's teetering on a line he can't cross without you. 
"Awww, you like this dick, filling up your pretty little mouth like that?"
A sloppy nod is all you can conjure as the tip of Toji's cock nudges at the back of your throat.  His greed's bringing about tears to your eyes, fat tears rolling down your puffy cheeks.
He's chuckling at you for the moment until a crippling heat lays seize to his nursed cock. That pit in his stomach is meeting its limit, forcing Toji to sob out slurred curses of his timely demise.
"Fuck! 'm cumming, 'm cumm-"
Toji drags his twitching cock against your tongue for the last time, pulling away from your gaping mouth. His hand rushes to grip the base of his cock, squeezing every drop of him to rush to the mushroomed head. He smears the tip along your tongue, forcing the slick muscle to dip beneath its weight. 
"There's your fucking mess, Princess. Don't waste a drop, 'kay?"
His scent swells within the caverns of your mouth, the thick ropes of white sputtering from the fat juicy crown. A grin spreads itself thin over your lips as Toji ruins your mouth with his scent, drinking down the forbidden fruits of your labor. 
"Oh...fuuucck," the words mindlessly falling from Toji's broken lips. 
It's such an honor for him, bearing witness to your puffy lips nuzzling along his twitching cock. He's made a real mess of himself but you're here, using that tongue of yours to melt away his sins from white to clear. And you do the job well, all evidence of his high sitting along your tongue.
Such a good girl he's got on his hands.
"C'mere," Toji groans, his hands racing to your own. With his hands for balance, you quickly recover onto your feet. It's a team effort—you pull the dress over your head and he's busy with yanking your panties down your legs. 
"Turn around–yup, come sit, I wanna show you something." 
He drags you down to his level, seating you on his lap with his hands clipping to your hips. Toji's chest defines the arch that befalls your spine, his skin flush against you.
Toji cups at your jaw, his digits sinking into your cheeks. He's got your full, undivided attention, his hold directing your sights to your reflections. 
You're dumbly gawking at the lewd display, your nude form melding into Toji's. You couldn't try to separate where your body begins and where his ends, that's just how close Toji kept you. You look so small in his hold, your hands desperately clinging to his biceps. 
His presence is commandeering, even with you as the painting's main subject. Not to mention that just between your legs, his cock's hidden away behind the wall of your smothered thighs, hidden from sight but twitching with anticipation. It's just so...so—
"Spread your legs, Princess. 'M not done with you."
You're hesitant to oblige but your legs still creak apart, all the same, granting for Toji's hand to tend to your cunt. 
The thick pads of Toji's digits nestle along the puffy lips of your pussy, spreading the sticky mess apart with a grin. 
"Fuck, she's so pretty," he marvels at the reflection. He's lost in the picture your pussy paints in the mirror for him, his digits melding into the precious pink hues hidden between your folds. 
It's a sticky mess, but he couldn't care less. He's using such care with you as he traces the fragile curve of your folds, gawking at how your hips buck into his touch. 
"Look Princess, god, your pussy's so cute. Wonder what'll happen if I do...this..."
His fingers sink past your folds, the delicate petals glued to his touch. He's rubbing out languid strips to ease those woes of yours, his digit slinking through the sticky channel of essence. 
That same finger comes to tease your clit, nudging the glossy pearl spry beneath his touch. And you can't hide it, that sprawling heat growing between your legs. Your clit's overtaken by that heat, the nerves answering Toji's call. 
Toji's too gentle for his own good, knowing exactly how to get a rise out of you. And he's winning, thanks to the thickening veil of your honey staining his lithe fingers.
"C'mon look, Princess," he urges, his eyes hinging over the lewd display. "It's too pretty for just me to see."
"N-No, Toji. It's too much!" you squirm, but the hold he has over your jaw doesn't budge not even an inch.
His lips press at the curve of your shoulder, his greedy tongue slipping past to lick a lazy trail along your skin as he takes to the shell of your ear. 
"'Nd why's it too much for you, Baby? Too much to see how cute your pussy is? You just gotta, but...I guess I can tell you since you don't wanna see..."
"No, Toji, wait!—"
"Shhh, did you hear that?" His fingers gently drumming at your gasping slit. "Oh, you're so fucking wet."
"Mm, 'm not gonna look Toji."
"Why not?"
"I just don't want to! D-Do I have to look, it's feels so good—"
"You don't wanna look? Ha! that's real cute, Princess. Something a brat like you would...Hm...don't tell me you're a brat, mommy...I like those."
"Mm, No, Toji. I can't—" you sob, screwing your eyes shut.
"So that's how it is?" Toji sneers. His voice carries a cold annoyance with you. You know he's planning something to combat your arrogance, something made just for you. 
Toji's fingers fan across the sloppy mess of your folds, his thick digits landing a firm slap over the twitching bud of your clit. 
Your breathy gasp falls on his ears, but without a care to be found, he's merely ignoring you. His stare turns cold as he scans your splayed rest against his chest. You aren't even making an attempt to free yourself with a response–just keeping your eyes screwed shut and your head whipped away from the mirror's grand reflection. 
"Well...are you?" Toji pries sternly. " 'M not gonna stop til you say something. Not when I'm liking this cute lil' pussy."
And not a lie falls from Toji's barred tongue. The lewd crashes of his slicked fingers against your pitiful cunt rings around the room. He's playing with your clit as if he's forgotten that you could cum at any given moment, forgoing composure for the time being. You're just so wet, dripping with the same essence that drives him near mad. He wants a taste so bad, his mouth watering at how your pussy squelches beneath his touch. 
Yet all those wishes and desires bubbling at the forefront of Toji's mind didn't stop his fingers from finding the cute bulb, the weeping throbs melding into the tips of his punishing digits. 
Your rambling sobs threaten to drown the sweet symphony, Toji simply grins. Your cries are nothing when his blows can carry just a little more weight. His hand winds back this time, cutting through the air to deliver a stinging jolt to trace through your hips.
"Fuck, Toji, okay, okay!" you whine at last, " 'M not a brat!"
Toji halts his wrist for the moment. Finally, you're giving up, another land of his slaps and he's sure you would've soaked his pants. He moves to soothe your throbbing clit with a rewarding slew of laggardly drawn circles. 
"Then, tell me... what are you?"
"A...A...princess."
Toji grins as he presses a kiss along your puckering pout. "Good girl! That attitude isn't for you, too pretty for that. 'Nd I like hearing manners from that mouth of yours."
Toji groans as he pulls you further along his lap. His cock's nuzzled right between the curve of your ass and that spout of friction sends his dormant nerves buzzing yet again. 
It doesn't help that he's been catching your slick from his lesson of discipline a thick stream of gloss dripping down his cock. Blood rushes to cram into every inch of his cock. Toji can't even try to hide it, not when his cock's growing so heavy that it's bearing that familiar upright curve again. 
"Oh shit...'m getting–"
Your hand reaches down between your legs to lace around his girth, the pads of your digits drifting around the blushing tip. 
Your hands are so soft that Toji's flinching, his hips jerking as your fist encircles the mushroomed tip. "Sorry, Dollface. Should've grabbed some condoms before coming here.
"I don't mind if we don't use one."
"A-Are you sure? Really, I can wait for when we–"
Toji's long-winded pleas fall short on your ears, your lithe hands swiftly aligning him with your hole. 
"Toji," you coo.
"Yes?"
"Hurry up and fuck me already...please."
A part of Toji wishes you wouldn't use such a word—fucking. He isn't fucking you and hasn't been since last night. Not when he wants to see your cute expression, trying to guess how deep he's ended up. He isn't fucking you when he wants to hold you just like this, keeping your body wrapped up in his arms. 
He's too interested in finding ways to ruin you just to be fucking you.
He hasn't found a word to describe what exactly he's doing the moment his cock sinks into you, but it surely isn't anywhere near something as heartless and crude as "fucking". 
The head of his cock paints your slit in sloppy kisses before his girth robs you of composure. He's watching the swelled mounds of your folds split at his length, painting the throbbing veins in your essence. You feel so good around him, enveloping his cock in your heat. 
But it's something he shouldn't even have the honor of bearing witness to, especially when you're back to hiding in the crook of his neck.
"C'mon, let's watch together," he purrs, cupping your jaw firmly once more within his broad digits. He's directing your sights to the pane of glass before you both, your flaring eyes gawking at the scene.
"We can see everything, baby. Get to finally see how greedy this pussy is too–fuck. Taking every inch of me...just...like...that."
He's back to stretching you again, his pudgy girth bullying your pussy to accept him. But his face tells you a different story, his skin flushed in bliss's shade of rouge. He's squirming beneath you, desperately trying to stop himself from getting ahead. He's filling your ear with rambles, mumbling off some mantra of being patient.
Toji's patience's warranted when he huffs out a groan, tossing his head back when he buries himself to the hilt at last. The hairs decorating the base of his cock brush against you as he grinds his hips against your ass, the bush of onyx tickling the bare skin of your cunt.
"See?" he groans breathlessly, "Did such a good job, Baby! N-Now, lemme...lemme make this pussy all mine."
The languid drop of Toji's hips pulls you from his lips, a weak keen escaping your lips.  He buys himself an inch or two before flooding your senses again, the thich crown of his cock pecking at your core.  
Toji's noticing how you ease up each time he meets your sweet spot with a kiss. 
He brings his hips to an angle when his hips drop this time. He's praying that the thick curve of his underside works in his favor to hit all your sweet spots in a single stride. His hands reach to cup at the back of your knees, pinning your limp body to his own.
"Ohmy–fuuuuck, Toji!"
The crashing barrage of waves his hips carry rip through your pert ass, trailing all the way to the underside of your thighs. Suddenly, he's reaching so much deeper than before, his eyes bearing witness to his cock stretching with ease. His excitement's getting the better of him, coaxing Toji to feed your poor cunt with relentless strides. 
"That's it, Princess, take that fucking dick!"
Your lips unwind at his praise, his name rolling off your lolling tongue. In the heat of your bliss, you steal a glance at your silhouettes in the mirror, eyes falling right on the sinful fixture of where you and Toji meld. It's a dizzying sight to swallow, your hazy stare watching your own cunt swallow down Toji for every inch he has. It's so lewd but...so...so mesmerizing!
It's wrong but you can't look away from the swell of your lips splitting around the fat of his cock. It's like he belongs there with the way his hips snap riveting strokes to flush your pussy raw. He's pulling everything out of you, rousing the overwhelming swell of heat to rile your nerves. 
He's harboring a resilient drive now, earning the badge of a thick white ring wrapped around the base of his cock. But he isn't working this hard for nothing. He's trying to drown out the facts of just how good you feel around him. 
Your fluttering walls coddle his shaft with pecks, the suckling heat gnawing at his ebbing resistance, the way you're peering at him with those eyes—those blown hues begging for just an inch of relief. You've got Toji's body running hot, thriving off nothing but carnal lust. 
He knows you're close, but he wants to cum with you even more. He's more than aware of the fact that if he hits your core just one more time, that would be your undoing. 
But you just can't cum yet...you can't. 
Toji graces your visage with a kiss, pity souring his thoughts. You're ruined by him; tear-stained cheeks, spit-ridden lips, and the dumb rambles falling from your mouth prove his theory to be true. 
"You wanna cum, don't you, Princess?"
"Y-Yes...p-please, Toji!" you sniffle, nodding frantically at his inquiry.
"T-Then cum with me!" he sobs, his forehead dipping into the crook of your neck. 
Your bodies catch the seizing hold of anticipation, the promise of bliss breaking over you.  "Mmm, Tojiiii!" you hysterically bawl. 
It's selfish to seek out his aid but the pit in your tummy's too much for you alone to handle this time. It's a sweeping spasm, capturing your body whole. Hot white steaks lick across your skin as you arrive at your high. It takes every ounce of your being to sustain, your back bearing a harsh arch. Just as it came, your high quickly ebbs away from you, rendering you into a panting mess. 
Toji does all he can to free himself from your silky walls, his hips dropping from your own. He's pitted his cock to relish the final moments alone before the compelling surge of white explodes from the fat head, your inner thigh lathered rich in his scent.
"Fuckfuckfuck, I c-can't stop—hnn!" Toji blubbers, his stomach caving in against your back. He tosses his head back along the divan's frame, writhing beneath the weight of his high pins upon him.
Your blurry vision falls onto Toji, basking in what his own orgasm had planned for him. He's gritting his teeth. You want to help him, but just as your own, this is something Toji has to bear on his own. 
All you have for him is a kiss, your lips simmering at the corner of his mouth. It isn't even a minute before your kind gesture is returned by Toji. It's soft kiss, his lips barely sinking into yours. He lazily pulls away, wearing a weak smile to greet you.
"T-Thank you, Princess."
"C'mon, let's get out of here. I'm sure Ami is waiting out there," Toji croaks, pressing one last peck to your cheek. 
You nod weakly, planting yourself on the plush carpet. Toji follows right behind you with his hand too fond of your lower back. He helps you first, slipping the sage dress down your body before tending to himself. 
"Oh," he calls out, reaching for your panties. "You don't need this right?"
"And what are you going to do with them?"
Toji stuffs the lacy material into his back pocket, tugging away any evidence of his perverted ways. 
"Told you I'm no good. I steal too."
"Go ahead...but it's just because I'm too tired to argue right now," you hint as you wait for him by the door.
You and Toji quickly slip past the private fitting room's door, walking into an empty lobby. 
"Huh, guess we beat her—"
"Okay guys! I just finished the samples, sorry to keep you guys waiting. Come back next week and I'll have the full order of tops done. We can get his bottom done as well!" Ami announced.
You and Toji watch the woman with dumb, gaping eyes, right until she stands before you both. You sheepishly accept the bag in her hand, Toji reaching out to take it from you.
Guess luck is still on your side.
"Okay," you mutter slowly. I'm gonna use the bathroom. I'll be right back."
Toji offers you a nod, watching you disappear behind the service desk.
"Wow, it's so good to see her back to her old self," Ami shares, her comment piquing Toji's interest.
"Why? Oh! Because her husband passed right?"
"Yes, she's been so sad for the past four years. So seeing her out and about again brings me such ease."
"Wait, four years? Her husband died three years ago..."
"Yes, that's still right," Ami avows, "But he was diagnosed a year before his death. They tried so many treatments, and hospitals—all that money couldn't get him a reasonable recovery. Then, one day he simply called off all treatment and wanted to spend his final days at home with his wife. So even before his initial death, she was already filled with grief."
"Is that so..." Toji hums, his attention called back as you return to the sales floor.
"Okay, sorry about that. Ready to do Toji?"
"Yeah...thank you again, Ami," he waves at Ami, his quick steps bringing him to join your side. 
"Bye Ami! See you next week!" you grin.
With the chime of the door's bell, you and Toji are transported back outside onto the streets of Ginza.
The sun's setting tendrils blaze through the orange sky, hues of purple, rose, and yellow casting themselves across the horizon. The buildings nearby bask beneath the gentle glow of dusk as night teases its way in. 
"You wanna get on the train again?" Toji hums as he faces you. He's wearing that dumb look again, gawking at how your afterglow drinks in the day's final rays. 
"No, it's nice out. Let's walk back home," you suggest, earning a nod from Toji.
You both begin on your trek home, slipping your hand into his. 
He's too busy racking his brain to notice the gesture but he welcomes it all the more. You were vague with the details of your husband's death, but to know how much grief you've endured in recent years pulls at Toji's heartstrings. 
He knows he's no replacement—hell, you're the one spoiling him. But he knows he can still give you something of his—his time and effort.
In the long run, his time and effort might not amount to much. But somehow and someway, he's hellbent on making his own mission to cheer you up. And no, you didn't ask for a savior, and he's far from being called on.
But call it compassion from the resident wanderer.
"Hey...Princess?"
"Yeah?"
"Can I call you my lady?"
You stop dead in your tracks, forcing Toji to come to his own stop.
"What?"
"How about I call you...my lady? It doesn't need to have any romance behind it and it kinda sums up what you are to me."
"And what are you to me? Not a friend since you get all pissy."
"I don't get pissy, thank you very much," Toji scoffs. He places himself in front of you, wanting to read your reactions as he urgently tries to explain himself.
"I mean, you hired me to be your boy toy. Now, I have no issue saying that, but I can see where that might not sound too pleasing to others. So...you're my lady...my mistress even. How does that sound?"
"I'll take lady, mistress is no better than boy toy."
"Great!" Toji smiles. You playfully roll your eyes, attempting to step away from Toji—but he isn't done with you yet.
No, how could he be?
His hand's swift to grace the dip of your back, pushing you flush against his chest. A mischievous grin curls onto his lips as he scours that bombshell look on your face. It's been a day and you still aren't used to his brash advances—something you know you'll adjust to in time. 
But Toji's playing coy, blowing you a teasing kiss. He just has one more thing to say, and he hopes you're ready to agree.
"Can we kiss on it?"
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TAGS: @pixelsanji @sleepy3 @slaughterakira @woahhajime @champagnej @shuxjodie @just-yer-average-key @bontensbabygirl @tojitsukaisen @serenareiss  @omniuravity @sweeneyblue1 @yukihime-mikeys-girl @kazusugar @jjjangsta @10-jiku @missyasma @a3trogirl @chaoticevilbakugo @luvrdrop @yourmommy52726 @widepipepaladiknight @tojishugetiddies @nekoriots @ladyackermann @tonaken @holychocopie @dukina @kensgff @humantrashcan2000 @batmanslittlelover @23victoria @sisnot @insideboburnham @shima707 @patchi-chi @brokenheartshards @akiko0-0 @mx-luvzz @whore02 @lilystarknette @hannas16 @girlwith-kalei-do-scope-eyes @your-favorite-god @missakward123 @ssetsuka @alwaysfreakingout @httpstoyosi
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Any girls of your choice having their S.o come back home and the first thing they say is "If I asked you to kill someone no questions asked could you do it?"
(Genshin Impact/GFL) Getting asked if they would kill someone for S/O
Genshin: Arlecchino, Jean, Chiori, Eula, Dehya, Lynette, Shenhe, Noelle, Rosaria, Xinyan, Girls Frontline: M4A1, M16A1, M4 SOPMOD II, HK416, AK-15, AN-94,
In the words of our glorious Steve Harvey: KILL!
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Arlecchino is a little amused by S/O's question, but more curious than anything. Who could they possibly need her to kill?
And that was pretty bold of them to ask, considering who she is, and the fact she had not even been home for all of ten seconds.
Not that it exactly bothers her.
(Arlecchino) "An interesting propsal to walk in on. If I asked the same for you, S/O, would you?"
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Jean felt the wind (HA) knocked out of her with that question.
After a long day of dealing with shenanigans at the Knights' Headquarters, this is what she gets?
Initial shock wearing off, she frowns at S/O, not thinking that this joke was funny.
(Jean) "No, I would not S/O. Who would even say yes to that question as soon as they came home?"
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(Chiori) "Probably, if they were a particularly nasty customer."
Chiori answered as soon as she opened the door to her home and not even batting an eye.
There was many a day she would if it was legal.
But alas, throwing trash out her door and windows would have to suffice.
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Eula raises an eyebrow at the question, closing the door behind her.
Honestly? She's a little offended at the question.
(Eula) "Do you take me for a barbarian? Absolutely not, I'm not like the rest of the Lawrence Clan!"
This is not what she wants to talk about before she even gets to sit down.
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(Dehya) "Woah, someone got you super pissed off today?"
Dehya can't help but laugh and also think someone got her S/O in a bad mood.
Otherwise, why would you ever ask a merc if they would kill someone?
But if they were particularly nasty, she wouldn't even need payment to, but otherwise no.
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Lynette rolls her eyes at the question.
(Lynette) "I can't magic someone away permanently, S/O."
That was a lie, she technically could, but that was reserved for orders from the House.
And anyone that tried to constantly interrupt her resting mode.
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Shenhe doesn't flinch at the question, instead answering immediately.
(Shenhe) "Yes."
Pray that S/O doesn't ask that question when her ropes are off.
Because then they actually will get a body.
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Noelle gasps audibly.
(Noelle) "What?! Of course not! I'm a maid, not an assassin!"
Noelle is absolutely flabbergasted that S/O would even ask a thing!
She proceeds to give them a lecture that violence is not the answer, regardless if it was a joke or not.
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Rosaria first thinks in her mind:
Oh, now you tell me this after I come home from my work.
(Rosaria) "Hello to you too."
If S/O really did know what she did at night, then this was the strangest way to confront that.
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Xinyan takes a second to process S/O's question as she moves her guitar before it bumps into the door.
...Say what?!
(Xinyan) "The heck are ya talking about, S/O!? And what makes ya think I would do that either?!"
Absolutely not! She's a musician, not a hitman!
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M4A1 glares at S/O, not amused in the slightest.
(M4A1) "Last I recall, you're not my Commander, S/O."
After coming back to base, and given Griffin's status, the question isn't really that lighthearted to her.
Especially after an operation where she's constantly fighting to survive.
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M16 chuckles, crossing her arms.
(M16A1) "We're T-Dolls, not drones. Buuuut, why do you need me to do it?"
She knows they're (hopefully) joking, and doubts its anyone at Griffin that she needs to knock the head off.
If it was Sangvis, then let her at 'em!
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VIOLENCE
(M4 SOPMOD II) "Who needs killing?!"
SOPMOD is always happy to fight, and she just needs only the slightest reason to start blasting.
And it seemed S/O was giving her one!
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HK416 scoffs at S/O.
What kind of question was that for someone who just came home?
(HK416) "You aren't the one paying me. So, no."
Unless her S/O became the client for 404's operations, then they could talk about proper killing.
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15 sighs at their question, moving to put her equipment up.
(AK-15) "No."
She wasn't really in the mood to entertain these kinds of questions from S/O.
Besides, Angelia was the one who gave those kinds of orders anyway.
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AN-94 shakes her head no.
(AN-94) "Only if Angelia or AK-12 gave the order, S/O."
She takes that as a genuine question, and gives S/O a genuine answer.
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kenzlovesyou · 2 days
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reporter!y/n and wbbstar!caitlin would be fun...
hi i’m so sorry this took so long 😕 i hope you enjoy this!
plot: short fluff you’re an intern reporter about to do a post game interview for the very first time! you’re super nervous about it and caitlin helps you practice before the real thing.
Reporting Live
➖➖➖➖➖➖➖➖➖➖➖➖➖➖➖➖
“Okay, Y/n. Just chill.” You said to yourself in the bathroom mirror. You’d just arrived at Gainbridge Fieldhouse to cover your very first professional basketball game and ask questions at the post-game interview. The game you were covering would be the Indiana Fever against the New York Liberty team. You were trying to hype yourself up for the game, but you were extremely nervous. The Fever had been getting serious media attention ever since Caitlin Clark had recently been drafted to the team, so you knew many people would be tuning in.
You stare at yourself and repeat the mantra you’ve been telling yourself since this morning. “You are brave. You are smart. You are super cool and you are totally ready for this!”
“Ready for what?” You jump in shock and turn around to see Caitlin Clark right behind you. The Caitlin Clark. You stare at her for a second not quite processing how Caitlin Clark is currently standing behind right behind you and asking YOU the INTERVIEWER a question. “Sorry um what did you say?”
Caitlin shrugs, turning on the bathroom faucet and rinsing her hands in the sink. “What’s got you so nervous?” She looked you up and down and smiled, “hey, that’s the reporter lanyard. Are you one of the interviewers?” You nodded shyly and giggled.
“Can you tell it’s my first day?” Caitlin laughed at you and shone her head. “Nope, definitely not. You look totally professional.” You couldn’t tell if she was being sarcastic or serious but you hoped it was the latter.
Caitlin’s words were kind, but you knew they were just that. She didn’t know you, she didn’t know your performance capabilities. There was no real way for her to tell you you’d be any good. You looked at ground and rocked back and forth on your feet slightly. Caitlin noticed this and frowned. Perhaps she could do something to cheer you up? She knew what it was like to be nervous at a new job, as her first WNBA game had just been a week prior.
“Do you wanna maybe, I don’t know, practice interviewing me?” You looked up at her quizzically. “You know,” she continued, “so you aren’t as nervous when it comes to the real thing!” Your cheeks flushed. Not only was she a great player, she also had a great personality.
“We could try that!” Caitlin nodded and signaled for you to start. “Wait. I can’t I don’t have a microphone.” Caitlin rolled her eyes at you and passed her half drank water bottle to you. “Perfect. Okay. Caitlin Clark. What do you think made you want to go pro in basketball? You’ve been amazing ever since you were younger, but what made you want to do this as a career?”
You held the water bottle ‘mic’ in front of Caitlin as she prepared an answer. She took a beat to think about her answer and smiled to herself. “I mean I think I just want kids to have someone to look up to, y’know? I just want them to know that, like, if they have dreams they should pursue them because it might end up paying off.” You nodded your head in response.
“That’s amazing. It’s good to know that besides having a remarkable talent you have such a good heart as well!” Now it was Caitlin’s turn to blush. Her cheeks turned rosy and she lowered her eyes to her shoes.
Caitlin cleared her throat. “Well, y’know, maybe since you asked me a question I can ask you one too.” You looked back at her quizzically.
“Aren’t I the reporter? What question could you possibly have for me?”
Caitlin stood up and walked closer to you, her eyes staring at you seriously. “Can I get your number?” You paused. Was the Caitlin Clark asking you out?
“How do you know I swing that way, Clark?”
“I guess that’s my second question for you. Do you swing my way?” You rolled your eyes at her and made a grabbing gesture with your hand and pointed at her phone in her pocket. She took it out and went to add a new contact and passed it to you. You typed your number in and before you knew it Caitlin had to leave to go warm up. You wished her luck and off she went.
The game was close, but the Fever ended up losing. You could tell by Caitlin’s face she looked disappointed. Her frown seemed to fade away when you walked up to the Fever team to do a post game interview. You went along the line of women, asking each one significant questions correlating to their stats and achievements in the game, and what they thought would come next. You sighed a breath of relief when it was finally over. The interviews went seamlessly, but that didn’t mean you weren’t going to still find something to worry about. You walked out to your car and started your car up to drive home, alone with yourself and your thoughts. That was until you got a ping on your phone.
unknown number:
great job on your first day! you didn’t look nervous at all, i guess the practicing helped? hopefully?
maybe getting dinner sometime could calm your nerves for next game :)
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littleprinces · 19 hours
Text
Father's Desires in the Bathroom ft Haneul KIOF
T. Incest, Happy Haneul Day
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Tonight is a summer night, and I was alone in the house, tidying up some things in the bathroom when I heard a faint knock on the door. I opened it to find Haneul, my beautiful daughter standing there with a shy smile on her face.
"Sorry to bother you, Dad" she said, her eyes cast downward. "I hope I'm not disturbing you."
I couldn't help but notice how stunning she looked, with her long, silky black hair framing her delicate, porcelain-like face.
"Not at all, Baby. You're welcome to use the bathroom. And if you need any help, just let me know," I said with a smirk.
She blushed and giggled nervously, her eyes meeting mine for a brief moment before she quickly looked away. I could tell she was intrigued by my flirtatiousness, and I decided to take things a step further.
"Actually, Baby, I could really use some help in the bathroom. Would you mind giving me a hand?" I asked, raising an eyebrow teasingly.
She hesitated for a moment, clearly unsure about what to do. But the curiosity in her eyes was too strong to resist, and she eventually nodded her head in agreement.
Once inside the bathroom, I turned on the tap in the sink and started washing my hands, making sure to splash some water on my face to create a genuine need for assistance.
"Oh no, I seem to have splashed some water on my shirt. Could you please help me dry it off?" I asked, turning around to face her.
Haneul's eyes widened in surprise, but she didn't back away. She cautiously stepped forward and reached out to dab at the wet fabric on my chest. Our eyes met, and I could see the desire building up in her.
I took her hand and pressed it against my growing erection, making it clear that I wanted her. She gasped in shock, her eyes wide with lust.
"Even if I am your daddy, you still want me, my daughter?" I asked in a husky voice, slowly unbuttoning her shirt to reveal her small and perky breasts.
She nodded, her voice barely audible. "Yes, I do, Dad"
I pulled her close and began kissing her passionately, our tongues exploring each other's mouths in an intense French kiss. I could feel her body trembling with anticipation as I continued to undress her, eager to feel her warm, soft skin against mine.
Once she was completely naked, I laid her down on the bathroom floor and spread her legs wide open. I could see her glistening pussy, a stark contrast to her smooth, pale skin.
"You're so wet for me, Baby" I whispered in her ear as I began to lick her clit, teasing her with soft, gentle strokes.
She moaned in pleasure, her hands running through my hair as I continued to pleasure her. I could feel her getting closer to the edge, her body tensing up with each passing second.
"Please, I can't take it anymore," she breathed, her voice barely audible.
I smiled, knowing that she was ready for what was to come. I slid my fingers inside her tight pussy, preparing her for my throbbing cock. She gasped in pleasure, her eyes rolling back in pure ecstasy.
"I'm going to fuck you so hard, Baby. You're going to feel it for days," I growled, positioning myself behind her.
She looked over her shoulder, her eyes pleading with me to take her. I grabbed her hips and slowly eased my cock into her wet, inviting pussy, savoring every inch of her tight warmth.
"Oh, yes, Haneul. You feel so fucking good," I groaned, starting to thrust deeper and harder with each passing moment.
"Yes, fuck me, please daddy!" she cried out, her voice echoing through the bathroom.
I pounded her relentlessly, feeling my cock swell with each powerful thrust. She was moaning and panting, her body writhing beneath me as I brought her to the brink of ecstasy.
"I'm going to breed you, Haneul. I'm going to fill you up with my cum," I growled, feeling the tension build up inside me.
"Yes, do it, please dad! Feel your good girl with your cum!" she begged, her voice trembling with desire.
With one final thrust, I exploded inside her, filling her pussy with my hot cum. She cried out in pleasure, her pussy clenching around my cock as she experienced the most intense orgasm of her life with her own father.
We lay there, spent and breathless, our bodies intertwined in a passionate embrace. As I looked into her eyes, I knew that this was just the beginning of our secret, i love you my daughter, won haneul.
Happy birthday haneul!
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lunajay33 · 2 days
Text
Precious🩵
Summary: Reader gets separated from Daryl at the start and finds a farm with a wonderful family, she finds out she’s pregnant and one thing leads to another and a new group settles onto the farm
•Masterlist•
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I waited for Daryl at our little house in the small town we grew up in, I had been gone to the city for the day when everything happened, I was able to find a car and drive back home praying that Daryl would be there waiting for me but I knew it would be a long shot, I waited for a few days until the food ran out and decided if I was ever going to find him again then I’ll have to go find him myself
So I pack up my bag with essentials, clothes, water, snacks that were left over and weapons for Daryl’s hunting collection, I drove for what felt like forever no signs of human life only blood and rotting corpses who some how took over the earth
I came to the interstate seeing the cars upon cars piled up blocking my way so I turned around hoping to find a back road to get around when I spotted a sign “Greene’s Farm” if the farm was still standing maybe it could have some food or more water, as I pulled up the drive way to a large white farm house people filtered out, it felt surreal to see people, live people
I got out of the car as the came down the stairs, it was an older man a girl around my age and a younger blonde, then what seemed to be an older couple and a younger boy
“How’d you find this place?” The man with the white hair asked
“I’ve been on the road looking for my husband, I got turned around in the road and saw your farm sign, I just need some rest” I say as I run my hand down my belly
When I went to the city when everything happened I found out I was pregnant and I was over the moon about finally starting a family with Daryl but now I’m scared, scared about delivery, this baby never meeting their wonderful father
The man noticed my movement and his harsher demeanor changed to one of pity
“Come dear we’ll get something set up for you”
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They let me settle in the spare room after feeding me some eggs and fresh fruit, the house was cozy and they are lovely people but I can’t help that feeling in the pit of my stomach, the feeling I always got when Daryl would be gone too long, he always soothed me even if he didn’t talk much he showed me comfort with actions of love and care
Whenever he scrounged up enough money he’d buy me little gifts, he got me a silver necklace with a bow on it which I never take off, I never got a wedding ring because I refused and said we should keep the money for the future and that I don’t need some diamond to show my love for him
“Knock knock” I look up to the doorway and see Maggie standing there with a wide smile
“Daddy wanted me to check on you, well both of you”
“Oh yes I think we’re okay, I only found out about two weeks ago”
“That’s when you first had symptoms?” She asked as she sat next to me on the bed
“Yeah, the nausea and a little bump”
“I’d say you’re about two months pregnant then, signs only show up later, does the father know?” I shock my head feeling my heart clench in pain
“I never got the chance, I don’t even know where he is but somehow in my heart I believe we will find our ways back to each other” she ran a comforting hand up my back and smiled
“You’ll find him sweetheart you never know what might happen!” She said before she left the room giving me space to finally rest
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It’s been 2 months now on the farm and it was peaceful for some reason this farm has gone untouched from the world that’s filled with death, I haven’t stopped looking for Daryl, every other day I’d search farther and farther out but there was no sign, as I was walking back to the farm I saw two men and Otis running through the field, I got back to the house and Maggie told me of everything that was happening, Otis accidentally shot the boy who Hershel was working on now
I sat outside on the steps as the young boys father came out obviously in shock covered in blood, he sat next to me completely disheveled, I took a rag I had in my pocket and wiped some blood he smeared on his face
“Hershel is a good surgeon and a great man, your son is in good hands” my words seemed to calm him down and what he needed right now was a distraction it seems
“I remember when my wife found out she was pregnant with Carl, we were young but I was excited this little life was gonna be born, so how far along are you?”
“About 4 months now, I’m not sure if it’s a boy or girl, I got separated from the father when I found out but I’ve kept looking, I know he’s out there, he’s a stubborn man but god is he strong and pretty smart too”
“Yeah I know the type, got a man like that back in our group, we lost a little girl and he’s been looking for her day and night”
“Maggie should be back soon she must have found your group by now, it’ll be okay” almost as if she heard me I see her horse ride up the field with cars following, then I hear the rumble of a motorcycle and it brought back so many memories I had with Daryl, when he’d work on his bike I’d sit with him, when we’d go for a drive at night together, moments I kept dear to my heart, zoned out in nostalgic thought I didn’t notice the group coming to the steps
“Y/n?” The grumble to the voice that I fell in love with, I look up to see him standing there just as the day I last saw him still as handsome, I couldn’t stand up fast enough before I was pulled off the stairs and into his arms
“I can’t believe it’s you, I looked everywhere, I missed you so much Daryl” I cried into his shoulder as his group was most likely watching this moment unwind
“It’s me sunshine, I found ya” he pulled back and we just looked into each others eyes for some time before he looked me over stopping abruptly on my belly
He opened his mouth but he seemed to be at a lose for words
“It’s yours if that’s what you’re wondering?”
“My baby?” He asked placing his hands on either side of my bump
“Yeah our lil baby Dixon”
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After everything settled down and people set up tents I decided to stay with Daryl since they were using my room for Carl, I was sitting across from him on my sleeping bag and he couldn’t take his eyes off my bump
“Do you want to feel?” He thought for a moment before he nodded, I lifted my ivory dress just above my belly feeling his warm hands caress my bare skin
“How did this happen?”
“Well remember that night you came back from the bar with Merle and I was wearing my pink sundress you love” realization dawned as a blush crossed his face
“Yeah that’s how it happened” I laugh missing how easily it is to embarrass him
“Where have you been?” I asked as we laid next to each other
“Found a camp outside of Atlanta with Merle, idiot went and got himself stuck on a roof don’t know where he is now, then we went to the CDC and that was a bust then that leads to now finally some sanity with ya”
“I’m just glad you didn’t get bite, the farms been secure so I haven’t had any troubles”
“And ya never have to with me ‘round”
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It’s been 6 months and Daryl and I had a beautiful 1 month old baby girl, it was painful giving birth but with Daryl by my side it made it a bit easier, hopeful
She was a wonderful little thing, barely fussy, brown hair light blue eyes just like Daryl, and he was over the moon about her he praised me over and over for giving him such a gift he treasured
We were able to move into the house to make it more comfortable for the three of us, we named her Lily because Carl thought it suited her perfectly so we just went with it
I walked into the room seeing Daryl sat on the bed with her in his arms her little hands reaching to pull on his now grown out hair, I sat beside them curling up to Daryl’s side
“She loves you so much D”
“Not as much as I love her”
“You know I think she’s your favourite”
“Nah she loves us both sunshine, I love ya”
“I love you too Daryl, forever”
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ja3yun · 3 days
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THE TDH DRABBLE 😭😭😭❤️ my heart!! if u could do how heeseung and jay would react to the boys coming along with y/n or how soonyeol would react to knowing what heeseung offered her 👀
i got carried away with this and it might not be what you were looking for, however, this is how i saw it playing out in my mind! heelzebub lovers, this is for you!
wc: 1.8k
warnings: kissing, mentions of hell, blackmail, not-proofread, a follow on from this drabble
the doll house masterlist
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Sunghoon pounds on the door with fierce determination, his knuckles white and his jaw clenched. Despite the tremble in his soul, he knows he must confront Beelzebub head-on, aware that with a mere snap of his fingers, he could be imprisoned once again in the cell he fought so hard to escape.
“Heeseung, open this damn door this instant, or I swear-”
“God? Is that how the saying goes now? Bringing the Almighty into our little drama?” Heeseung's laughter rings out, dripping with wicked amusement, as he swings the heavy door open, barely sparing a glance at you and Jaeyun. It's evident he finds Sunghoon's frustration rather entertaining. 
"Did you coerce her into selling her soul?" Sunghoon exhales sharply, feeling his patience teetering on the edge.
"Coerce? Oh, come on now, Sunghoon. Let's not play innocent. Wasn't it your boredom that drove her to pity you, leading her to make that deal with me?" Heeseung's retort drips with disdain, his words laced with a mocking tone. “If anything this is your doing.”
You extend a hand towards Sunghoon's arm in an attempt to soothe him, but he jerks away, his silent warning clear: don't interfere. The tension radiating from him is palpable, his anger still raw from the silent journey up here. 
Soonyeol peeks around Heeseung's shoulder, her smile radiant with surprise. "Oh? I thought you weren’t coming up until next month?" She is blissfully ignorant and you silently hope to preserve that amidst the chaos unfolding between Sunghoon and Heeseung. However, with their heated exchange escalating, discretion seems increasingly unlikely.
Heeseung sighs, feeling Soonyeol's hand on his arm, a touch that manages to quell some of his agitation. "I invited Y/N up here to assist you with that dress you've been tirelessly sewing," he explains, his tone softening slightly. "You mentioned needing a better model after Jongseong adamantly refused to be poked and prodded any longer."
That’s why he wanted you up here? Not to kill someone but to be a model?
Soonyeol’s smile widens as she claps happily, “Oh, Y/N! Thank you so much for agreeing to help me.”
Sunghoon doesn't relent, charging past Heeseung and into the house. Whirling around to face them, he cuts straight to the heart of the matter. "Forget about that, she's not doing it willingly. Do you know why?" he demands, his frustration boiling over.
You shake your head, silently pleading with Sunghoon not to reveal anything. But it's too late to halt his words now.
"She sold her soul because of him," Sunghoon declares, his accusation hanging heavy in the air, "because he couldn't just let me go and be happy."
Soonyeol's eyes widen in shock as she takes a hesitant step back from her beloved doll. "Hee? Is that true?" she asks, her voice trembling with uncertainty and a hint of despair. 
Heeseung's expression remains impassive, devoid of any hint of remorse or guilt. He meets Soonyeol's gaze steadily, his demeanour unyielding. "What does it matter now?" he replies coolly, his voice devoid of emotion. "The deal's been made, and there's no turning back."
Soonyeol recoils, her eyes brimming with disbelief and hurt. "But... but you promised me," she whispers, her voice cracking with emotion. "You said you would never involve Y/N in any of this. And you said that the boys could leave whenever they wanted, that’s why I agreed to you summoning their souls."
“Yeah, not the only promise he threatened to break-”
Your words are cut off and before you can comprehend what's happening, the familiar flash of red engulfs your vision, much like the one that blinded you when you peeped through the keyhole. A sense of foreboding washes over you. Panic grips you as you feel yourself falling backwards, expecting the impact of the ground.
Instead, you find yourself colliding with something solid yet strangely warm - a hard chest. Confusion clouds your mind as you struggle to make sense of your surroundings. The entranceway you were just standing in has vanished, replaced by a swirling sea of fire and ominous red clouds. Screaming can be heard from all over the void, causing your skin to shiver and your lips to tremble.
This is hell. You know it.
Turning around timidly, you find yourself face to face with Heeseung, his presence looming over you like a sinister shadow. His eyes blaze a deep, unsettling shade of red, sending a shiver down your spine. An ungodly smirk twists his lips, oozing with malevolence and a hint of amusement at your obvious discomfort.
“If you utter a word about my offer, those screams you hear? You'll be singing lead in the choir, baby,” Heeseung's voice cuts through the stifling heat like a chilling whisper. His words carry a menacing weight, each syllable dripping with malice and a veiled threat that sends a wave of fear coursing through you. 
Your heart pounds in your chest, desperate pleas for escape echoing in your mind as you find yourself trapped in this horrifying situation. Every fibre of your being longs to flee from this nightmare, to be anywhere but here.
Grabbing your neck harshly, Heeseung lifts you up forcefully, compelling you to meet his gaze. "That mouth of yours could be put to far more important things than yapping about our private conversations," he sneers, his tongue sliding slowly over his lips as his eyes lock onto yours, a predatory hunger gleaming within them.
Your breath catches in your throat, a mixture of fear and desire coursing through you as you realise the depths of his intentions. The urge to scream, to fight back is strong, yet just as always, you find yourself so close to giving in to him.
“Would you like me to tell your precious puppy about how you fucked me to the point that I almost reached salvation,” his mouth is dangerously close to yours, lips teasing yours as you try to chase them but his grip stops you. The amusement in his eyes doubles as he notices how the only thing on your mind is being devoured by him.
You aren’t in the right frame of mind, your actions are being pushed as a product of your environment, the heat from the fire and lustful gaze from Heeseung only drives your desire to the forefront of your mind. There is no Jaeyun here, no one to save you.
Heeseung squeezes your neck, cutting your air off, “Fucking answer me, do you want me to tell him? Ruin the perfect little illusion that it was just him and Sunghoon you were slutting yourself out for? Maybe I should tell him how Jongseong fucked you too, how you made him sin.”
With what little strength you have left, you shake your head, your breathless "no" barely audible amidst the suffocating pressure of Heeseung's grip. The room spins around you, the lack of oxygen leaving you dizzy and disoriented, but a rush of adrenaline courses through your veins, heightening your senses and sharpening your focus.
As if satisfied with your response, Heeseung nods, easing his grip slightly but keeping you firmly within his grasp. His smirk widens, a predatory glint dancing in his eyes as he leans in closer, his lips hovering dangerously close to yours.
You nod in silent agreement, your gaze flickering between his piercing red eyes and his tempting lips, caught in the intoxicating spell he weaves around you. Despite the danger and uncertainty of the situation, there's a perverse thrill in the forbidden pact you're about to make.
His smirk widens as he senses your compliance, his eyes gleaming with wicked amusement. "I think we should seal it," he murmurs, his voice low and husky with desire.
Before you can respond, he closes the distance between you, his lips crashing against yours in a searing kiss that sets your senses ablaze. In that electrifying moment, all thoughts of consequence and regret are swept away, replaced by the overwhelming need to lose yourself in the firestorm of passion that consumes you both.
Heeseung's touch shifts from harsh restraint to gentle possession as his hand cups your face, drawing you closer with a firm yet tender grip. His lips meld with yours in a fiery embrace, his tongue slipping past the barrier of your lips with a hunger that matches your own.
You surrender to the intoxicating kiss, every fibre of your being consumed by the electric pulse of desire that courses between you. His lips move against yours with a skilful fervour, stealing your breath away and leaving you gasping for more.
But just as you are ready to lay yourself bare for him in the pits of hell, he pulls away, pecking your lips a few times before stepping away from you, marvelling at how your chest heaves and lips plump.
“Next time I call you, you come straight away, understand? And leave the Bratz behind.”
With that, you’re flashed back into the entranceway where you once stood with a white flash, everyone in their previous positions, and Heeseung staring at you with knowing. Except Soonyeol is repeating her words from earlier. 
"You said you would never involve Y/N in any of this. And you said that the boys could leave whenever they wanted, that’s why I agreed to you summoning their souls."
Heeseung extends a hand to you, to leave the choice up to you. After that ordeal, there’s only one option in your mind.
“I asked him because I wanted to, there was no coercion, no blackmail, nothing.” You take a deep breath, steeling yourself for what comes next. "I sold my soul, and I am content with my decision. Heeseung has assured me that he won't harm me or my loved ones, and I trust him to honour that." 
As the weight of your words settles over the room, you feel the collective gaze of everyone upon you. Jongseong's disappointed shake of the head cuts through you like a knife, his expression a mixture of sorrow and resignation. You can sense the weight of his silent judgment, knowing that as a guardian angel, he has witnessed the consequences of such choices countless times before. 
“I asked him to keep a secret because I wanted to do this on my own.” Lie. “So please let's just carry on. Nothing that happens between me and Heeseung will affect the rest of you or our relationships. Right, Heeseung?” You look to him pleadingly to back you up.
But what you don’t know is that you’ve just opened up a door for Heeseung to use you as he pleases. “Nothing that happens between me and Heeseung will affect our relationships.” That speaks to Heeseung as a confirmation that he can play with you, fuck you, ruin you, as much as he pleases, and you’re willing to keep it a secret from them.
Heeseung smirks mischievously as he sends a wink your way. “Right. I won’t hurt her unless she begs me for it.”
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vivwritesfics · 3 days
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Slow Down, You're Gonna Crash
Chapter Seven
Summary: Being a Verstappen means realising that you'll never be as good as her brother. She knew it. That was why she ran away to California. Of course, she's gonna fall for the older, naval aviator. And, of course, it pisses her family off.
Bradley Bradshaw x F1!Driver Reader
1.7K
Series Masterlist
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It wasn't usual that she and Bradley arrived at The Hard Deck at different times. The Squad had gotten so used to seeing the both of them walk in together, his arm around her shoulders as he laughed at something she'd said.
This time, he'd arrived before her. Walked in with the rest of the Squad (something that hadn't happened since that night he'd met her).
Part of Bradley couldn't help but wonder what she had to be doing in that moment. When he'd left she'd asked for access to his laptop, and he'd told her go for it. (She'd proceeded to ask for the password, but was it really a shock that Bradley's laptop didn't have one?) Was she still typing away, doing God knows what?
At some point in the conversation, he'd stopped listening. He hadn't meant to stop listening to whatever Jake and Natasha were arguing about, hadn't meant to pull out his phone and start texting her. But he was smiling down at it, laughing at whatever she'd sent him now (a meme she'd made herself, something that nobody but the two of them would understand. She'd used a picture from her karting days, one of her in the background of an interview, looking ready to murder the boy getting interviewed).
And suddenly Natasha was snapping her hands in front of his face, getting his attention. "What the hell is wrong with you, man?" She asked as she thrust the pool cue towards them. When the hell had they started playing pool? But then Natasha looked down at the phone in his hands, at the contact name at the top of the screen. "Oh."
He took the pool cue and dropped his phone onto the seat as he stood. He could go five minutes without texting her. Well, he'd try.
And he was doing a good job. He didn't notice when it started blowing up with so many texts that they started failing to come through, and then coming through all at once.
Bob noticed, though. Sat there with his cup of peanuts and his water, he noticed as Bradley's phone started going crazy. "Rooster!" He called as he picked it up. It was still vibrating as it sat in his hand, screen lighting up with texts of 999! EMERGENCY! ROOS COME BACK!
Bradley passed his pool cue back to Natasha. He rushed over, took the phone from Bob and immediately called her. Now, if he'd taken a minute to just read what she was saying, the poor man would have realised that he had no reason to call her in such panic.
"Are you okay? What's wrong?" He asked quickly as he searched for his keys in his pocket.
There was a pause before she spoke. "Do you wanna come to Miami with me?"
The panic immediately left Bradley's body. He could have killed her he was so mad. Well, not mad. No, he was never mad at her. But an exasperated breath left her lips. "That was your emergency?"
A giggle left her lips.
"When are we going?"
Before she could say more, the phone was wrestled out of Bradley's grip. "Hey!" He shouted as Jake took the phone from him.
"Hi, Verstapp," said Jake as he help the phone up to his own ear. "Why aren't you here with us?"
"I'm busy, Bagman," she said. At that moment she was sat on the bed, laptop in front of her and phone held between her shoulder and her ear. She tapped away at the laptop, sending emails to the Williams F1 Team.
"I'm putting you on speaker."
Jake did just that. He put the phone on speaker and placed it onto the table between all of them. "Hi!" Natasha and Bob both called.
"Hey guys!" She shouted back. "Yeah, so it's in a month. I was thinking about driving up two days before, be there for the practice sessions," she said.
A month. She hadn't watched any other races since that first one. Bradley didn't ask why she didn't want to watch any other races. No, he filled her Sundays with good things. Watching movies, sitting on the beach and eating dinner.
Her favourites were walks under the stars, tucked under Bradley's arm. It was a world away from Formula One, what she needed in those moments. Well, what she needed was Bradley.
But he froze, breath hitching.
"Where are you guys driving to?" Bob asked her.
"Miami. For the Grand Prix weekend."
It was Jake that started laughing. Actually, he was the only one to laugh. "Drive? To Miami? Are you kidding?" He asked and started laughing again. "Oh, Kid-" She hated it when Jake called her that. Only Bradley got to call her that and even that was a rarity. "You'd be better off flying."
She was quiet for a second. Longer than that, actually. Long enough that Bradley picked up the phone and held it to his ear. "Baby? You still there?"
"I forget that America is so big," she mumbled.
"Oh, baby," he said as a smile appeared beneath his moustache. It was a damn sweet one, and a damn shame that she couldn't see it. "I'm gonna get some dinner on my way home," he said as he pulled his keys from his pocket and made his way out of The Hard Deck.
The blow of 'I can't come with you' came easier when said over shared Chinese food on his couch with Rush playing in the background. He held her on his lap while she booked her flights to Miami and sat through her trying to convince him to come with.
But they had a month to kill before she left Miami. And, in that month, she made a rather big decision.
"Roo, I want you to teach me to cook."
He looked up at her, dressed in one of his shirts and a pair of tiny, grey shorts. It was a sight he saw so often, but one that would always have his breath catching in his throat and his eyes wandering.
But he recovered quickly. "You want me to teach you how to cook?"
Her bottom lip was pulled between his teeth as she nodded.
Bradley had never been this excited before. He wasn't the best cook, but his mother had taught him some stuff. He stood up and dragged her over to the kitchen.
Learning to cook with Bradley was incredibly fun. He taught her to make lasagne, which ended up with an incredibly messy counter. "My mom made the best lasagne," he said as he stood behind her, arms wrapped around her, instructing her on what to do. "She would have liked you."
She froze against him, always did when Bradley said relationship-y stuff like this. But she cleared her throat, pushed on and placed the lasagne tray into the oven.
"My mum used to make the best cookies, too," said Bradley as she shut the door. "Wanna make some?"
"Do you even have chocolate chips?"
"We can make it work."
Bradley started making the cookies. He read out the recipe as he worked, and she sat on the counter and watched. She could have watched him all day as he mixed the sugar and the butter together in his pink bowl.
As Bradley baked, she pulled her phone from her pocket and dialled the familiar number. As it rang she placed the phone onto the counter beside her and reached for Bradley.
"Hello?" Said her brother as Bradley held his spoon to her lips.
She licked the mixture of sugar and butter from the spoon. "Max!" She called and picked up her phone, holding it in front of her lips. "How is the season going? Have you won everything?"
"Kip," Max groaned from the other end of the phone. "Had an issue with the car in Australia, fucking Carlos won," he mumbled, and she laughed. "It's not funny, Kip! P was watching and she was so upset!"
As he looked at her, Bradley furrowed his brows. Kip? He mimed, and she held up her finger, telling him to wait.
"Well, Maximilian, I'm thinking of coming to Miami," she said quickly.
"You are?" He asked at the same time that she said, "Is dad gonna be there?"
"Huh?" Max voiced.
She rolled her eyes at him. "Don't interrupt this time," she said quickly, but it was just in jest. "Is dad gonna be in Miami for the Grand Prix?"
He mumbled something under his breath. "Miami? I don't think so. Are you definitely gonna be there?"
"Logan wants my support for his home race, so I'm gonna be there," she said.
Max released a cough from his lips. "Do I get to meet your boyfriend?" He asked quickly. She could practically see the smile he was definitely wearing.
Rolling her eyes, she held her finger over the red button. "Goodbye, Maximilian," She called and hung up.
The moment she put her phone down, Bradley was there. He parted her legs and stood between them, hands on her hips as he pulled her against him. "Kip?" He asked, his eyebrows furrowed as he frowned.
She tipped her head to the side as she looked at him, expression unamused. "It's Dutch for Chicken," she mumbled.
Bradley laughed, lips twitching up beneath his moustache. "Chicken, really?" But even her pissed off expression wasn't enough to stop him. "No, I see it. It's cute. They're small-" He gestured between the two of them, indicating the size difference, "-Kind of aggressive-" He pointed to his arm, where she'd left a bite mark that morning (which Rooster loved), "-But, most importantly, cute."
She wrapped her arms around his neck. "Good save, Rooster. You're not gonna start calling me Chicken, are you?"
For just a moment, Bradley thought about it. "You know what? I might. Rooster and Chicken."
She groaned, but her smile was undeniable. Rooster and Chicken. She loved it.
Taglist: @biancathecool
@not-nyasa
@boiohboii
@thehufflepuffavenger1
@sweate-r-weathe-r
@hiireadstuff
@spideybv28
@skepvids
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@marvelfangirl04
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@esquivelbianca
@thatgirlthatreadswattpad
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@fangirlvibez
@sol-emers
@callsignwidow
@elliotts1one
@woozarts
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starry-eyes-love · 2 days
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Part 2 of Too Young to Die Mini Series
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Main Masterlist | Joel Miller Masterlist
Too Young to Die- Mini Series Part 2 out of 3.
Pairing |  Massage Therapist Joel Miller x F!Reader with Autoimmune disease, no outbreak, AU.
Summary | Joel takes you on your first date, where you eat pizza and joke together. Quickly, Joel finds out what it looks like to deal with an unmanaged autoimmune disorder. Joel, never faltering, stays by your side the whole way. Fast-forward to three years later, and Joel still helps you deal with the complexities of your body as life changes forever.
Banner image by CAImages on Instagram, banners by @saradika-graphics
Word Count: 6.7K
Warnings | Series is: 18+, Smut, Minors DNI (but no smut in this part)
Language, joking, pizza eating with odd topping choices, hints of smut without any smut, kissing, illness, fainting, pregnancy, boyfriend! Joel, husband! Joel, age gap, no major descriptions of the reader except she is younger and has autoimmune disease.
A/N:  This took me way too long to finish writing this part.  I found that I kept adding more to the story.  I love these two goofballs, so strap in for some fun and relaxing banter, with a few surprises along the way :) 
“Darlin’, don’t you ever question if I fucking want you, ya hear me. Baby, I always want you, day or night; it doesn't matter. And for the record, it isn’t me who needs any prep time to get in the mood; it's you.”
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Your first date with Joel went exceptionally well. Conversation flowed easily amongst you where there weren't any awkward moments. Joel teased you for liking pineapple on your pizza, and you teased him for liking anchovies.
“Darlin’, you just ruin perfectly good pizza if y’do all that.”
“Well, at least I don’t put dead fish on my pizza, Joel.”
“Look here. I don’t want to hear any more sass from you, considering you put pineapple on your pizza and add marinara sauce.” 
Joel shook his head, clearly not thrilled with your pizza flavor choice. He also saw you dip your pizza into the ranch and then take a huge bite, humming to yourself at the flavor choice. Joel looked over at you, shocked like you were someone who had sprouted three heads.
“Darlin’, now you've gone and done it. Completely ruined the American way of eating pizza.” Joel was staring at you wide-eyed as you placed buffalo ranch sauce on top of your pizza. He was trying to figure out how a beautiful woman like yourself would have the oddest taste in food.
“Mr. Miller, I don't recall you being an expert at pizza toppings. If you were, the fact that you place anchovies on your pizza makes your entire argument invalid.” 
Joel laughed out loud at your attitude and shook his head. He loved the easy banter between you two. 
“You know, it's a good thing I find you cute, darlin', or I'd have to remind you just how much my argument has merit.”
“And what type of merit would that be, Mr. Miller, because there is none in this instance.”
“Well, baby, if you insist.” Joel sat up straight, placing his pizza slice down to continue. “Fish is healthy and nutritious; it gives you plenty of stamina for any extracurricular activities you want or need to do. Plus, it also makes certain things taste sweeter, too.” 
“It doesn't make things taste sweeter, Joel; that's a lie. Pineapple is the one that makes things taste sweeter.” 
“So, is that why you ordered pineapple on your pizza, darlin’? You wanted to make sure things tasted sweeter for me later?” Joel smirked at you, raising an eyebrow, knowing the offhanded sexual comment he had just made.
You sat in silence, feeling your cheeks flush a nice soft red. You had no idea that Joel was going to take it there, to a sexual place. You weren't mad at his flirtatious comment; you were just sexually flustered. It has been a long time since any man has given you any amount of attention. You found yourself shifting in your seat, trying to alleviate the slow throbbing that had started between your legs at the casual flirting and banter with Joel. When Joel saw this reaction, he knew that he had gotten under your skin, which was the purpose of his comment in the first place. 
“Why ya squirming, baby?”
You just looked at Joel with a soft blush on your cheeks.  You didn’t want to tell him that your stomach was in knots and that you were getting more and more turned on by him sitting in front of you. 
“Sorry, I’m just trying to get comfortable.”
Joel raised an eyebrow, wondering if your discomfort was caused by his teasing or if you truly were in pain. The longer he looked at you, the more concerned he became. He could see that you were worrying your lip, eyes cast downward like you were focusing on something.
“Darlin', are you still with me?” Joel asked, seeing that you didn't answer his question, the one he just asked if your discomfort was due to feeling ill. You never heard him because you weren't listening. You were too focused on your hands, twirling your napkin between your fingers and fidgeting, overthinking things again. Will Joel even want me that way, or will he leave just like all the others? 
“Hey, honey, I was just teasing about your pizza topping choice. Just joking, you can eat it any way you like, darlin’.” Joel touched your hand affectionately, trying to bring you back to the present.
“I know, it's just- what happens when all of this gets too hard?” You said, looking up at him with wide eyes. 
“What? What do you mean, too hard?” Joel was now sitting back and looking at you with a puzzled expression. He was trying to figure out why you suddenly changed your mood. Two seconds ago, Joel was teasing you about your pizza topping choice. You both were relaxed, enjoying each other's company, teasing each other back and forth. But now, the confident woman that Joel had seen just a few seconds ago was gone. He frowned at your sudden change, finding it difficult to remain optimistic about the night's events.
Joel didn't tell or show you he was nervous about tonight's date. He thought that you were beautiful, even though you were much younger. You were on a different path in life. You were 29, looking at living life and planning for your future, while Joel was 47, divorced, and looking towards retirement and potentially becoming a grandfather in the next ten years with two kids that were almost entirely grown up.
Joel has never attempted to date a woman 18 years younger than him; you were the first. Joel didn't know if you could relate to him or if he could relate to you. But the longer you interacted with him, the more he felt at ease. That was until he heard your comment about something being too complicated. It was unsettling to him, especially when his love life and family life were the true definition of what complicated meant.
“Joel, I mean, you, me, and all of this. What happens when all of this gets too complicated?” You were waving your arms around, motioning at the two of you and your surroundings.
“Oh, yeah, I see. Uh, I can understand how this can all be difficult for you or complicated.” Joel felt his heart sink in his chest; he needed to end this before it got any further and before you got any more embedded into his life to hurt him. If you weren't looking for a relationship, he should cut his losses and end it with you. If you didn't like complicated, then you wouldn't like him. His entire life was complicated. Joel had baggage and a lot of it. He didn't want to lead you on if you weren't looking for some type of commitment because he wasn’t looking for anything casual. 
“Look, darlin’, if you're not sure, then maybe we should just-” 
“I like you a lot, ok? I haven't dated in a while, but you make me feel safe. And no one has done that in a long time. No one ever wants the complications of me being sick, so I get it if you don't, but I want this to work. I don't want you to hurt me, though, when you find out I'm not enough.” You raced the words out, feeling embarrassed for getting this out in the open, but from your past experiences, you knew that, eventually, this conversation would come up. You figured now was the best time to discuss this topic, especially before Joel embedded himself into your life. You didn't think Joel would want a serious relationship with you, being an older man. He probably wasn't looking for commitment, marriage, or kids. Those were things that you knew you wanted. What you didn't want was a one-night stand or a casual hookup. You can't separate sex from love, and you weren't about to start now, no matter how sexy the man was in front of you. You have always liked older men but never had anyone even care to look at you until now.
Joel was amazed at your admission and the guts it took to tell someone that, especially on the first date. But he was also frustrated at you cutting yourself down, saying that you weren't enough when you were. While Joel didn't diminish your feelings, being sick didn't count as a difficulty to him. Could it be a slight hindrance at times? It could, but it wasn't a deal breaker for him. Joel was more of a homebody now anyway, not really into the whole party scene and going out all the time. He didn't care if plans changed. He wasn’t a 20-year-old boy. 
Joel reached across the table with a small smile and took your hand. He whispered, “Baby, that's never gonna happen,” as he gently kissed the top of your hand.
“No? How- how come?” You whispered. Your heart was beating fast in your chest as Joel slowly moved his fingertips lightly up and down the inside of your palm. The feather-light touches sent tingles down your spine, especially when he kissed and lightly nipped your wrist. 
Joel needed to calm your and his nerves. While he didn't want to have this conversation now, he knew it was better to get these feelings out in the open so both parties could decide how to move forward. That was one thing he learned from his previous marriage: to speak your mind when something bothers you. 
Joel stopped moving his hand and looked into your eyes. He could see a mixture of shyness, arousal, and what he thought was also fear; not fear of being with him, but fear of him leaving you. You both were broken inside from past relationships, wanting someone to see you for who you were. Joel didn't know how the future would evolve for the two of you; he just knew that his heart was beating fast in his chest, and butterflies were in his stomach because of the beautiful woman in front of him—someone he desperately wanted to get to know.
“You wanna know why I know that, honey?”
You gently nodded your head.
“It's because I like you a lot, too,” Joel confessed, intertwining his fingers with yours and gently stroking his thumb on your hand. “Honey, I know you're sick, but that won't stop me. We'll figure it out. I haven't felt like this in a long time with a woman, and I’d be a damn fool if I didn't continue seeing you because of it. I don't want casual honey; I want an honest-to-God, committed relationship.”
Joel slowly reached forward and tucked a strand of your hair that fell out of your ponytail behind your ear. He gently cupped your cheek, stroking it with his thumb. “So stop fussin', ok? We'll figure it out; it's just you and me, alright?”
You nodded your head, exhaling the breath that you were holding. Joel squeezed your hand once more as he got up to go and throw away both of your trash. As you watched Joel walk away, you knew that you made an excellent decision by agreeing to go on this date with him. You just hoped he was telling you the truth.
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After talking for the next hour, you decided to walk to a nearby park. As you slowly walked, Joel reached out and grabbed your hand, intertwining your fingers together. It felt so good to have him hold your hand. You could see that he was trying and wanted this to work as much as you did. It made your heart race and your head feel dizzy at the thought that someone actually and truly cared about you and wanted to be with you. 
The two of you talked about Joel's life before he became a massage therapist. He told you that he was a construction worker who owned his own business before he hurt his back. After a year of treatment, including painful back surgery to remove a few bulged disks, Joel had to leave that line of work and sell his business to Tommy, his younger brother, who still manages it today in Texas.
“How did you end up in Minnesota, then?” You had asked as you both sat on a bench, eating ice cream from the small ice cream truck nearby.
“Well, that’s kinda a funny story, really,” Joel commented as he stole a bite of your chocolate ice cream, and then you stole a bite from his plain vanilla one.  “My daughters, Sarah and Ellie, live in lower Michigan with their mother, my ex-wife.” He paused, seeing if this admission of being divorced and having kids would be an issue for you.  When you looked at him curiously, seeing that you wanted him to continue, he told you the rest of the story.  
“Well, Tess, my ex-wife, took a job in Michigan when I was 28 when we got divorced. At the time, she had completely signed custody of the girls over to me.  When I hurt my back when I was 32, she took me back to court and requested custody changes.”
“What kind of custody changes?” You slowly placed your spoon down from your ice cream. The cold was starting to give you a headache, and you began to feel sick again with your autoimmune.
“Well, she felt I couldn't care for the girls properly because I was injured and healing from back surgery. According to her, I wasn’t working, yet I still owned my business and received paychecks from it. But still, to her, I wasn’t a father who could provide well enough for our girls, which was untrue.”
When Joel looked up at you, he was immediately concerned. You were starting to look pale on your face, and you were beginning to sweat. “She felt she was a better-fit parent to raise our girls, and the court sided with her.”
“What? How?” You couldn't understand how a judge would find him unfit as a parent just because he had back surgery and was injured.
“Well, that’s where it gets interesting.  The man she was dating at the time, secretly dating, was the judge who ruled in her favor.” 
“Oh my God, Joel. That is- that’s fucking horrible.” You reached out and gently squeezed his hand. You were trying to stay focused, but you kept having moments of dizziness mixed with horrible pain in your back and joints. Your body was suddenly starting to give you a flare-up of your autoimmune symptoms. You always hated it when your body did this, but right now, you were embarrassed because this was not what you wanted on your first date with Joel.
Joel noticed that you were getting worse and more pale in the face. You had officially removed your sweater, and he could see that you were sweating profusely.
“Honey, are you ok? You're not looking good.”
“No, I'm fine. I just need some water, and then I'll be okay.”
Joel got up and bought two bottles of water from the ice cream stand where you two were sitting. When he returned, he handed you one of the bottles and told you to drink. You murmured, “Thanks,” and then asked him to continue his story.
He smiled slightly at you as you murmured you were feeling a little better to him. 
“Well, one thing led to another, and I sold my business and returned to school to get my massage therapist license. I wanted to help people with injuries or chronic diseases that make it difficult for them.  I had a few back surgeries again along the way, three to be exact, all here in Minnesota with a specialist.  I had to live here for an entire year after my last surgery.  Tess said that if I were willing to live here full time, she would be okay with letting the girls come every other weekend, during holiday breaks, and then stay with me every summer.  So that’s what I did; I moved here to see my girls.”
“Is Tess still seeing that judge, then?” You took your sweater and wiped your forehead. You were now getting horrible hot flashes. You knew that if your body didn't quit, you'd have to end your date sooner with Joel than you wanted.
“No, Tess found out that the judge was married, and he said that he wasn’t leaving his wife for her. Kind of a perfect ending to a shitty situation, if you ask me.” 
Joel knew something was wrong when he saw your face lose color and sweat dripping from your forehead. 
“Darlin', you don't look well.” Joel knew your autoimmune was unmanaged and that you’d report getting these horrible symptoms when it flared up. But he didn’t expect this to come on so suddenly like this, and it worried him.
This was life with your autoimmune disease. You lived with this disease every day, and sometimes days were good. Other days, like today, made living life very difficult. You had been hoping this flare-up of symptoms would pass, but something was wrong; you could feel it.
“Joel, I'm sorry, I-I don't feel very well. I think I need to go home. I'm so sorry I-”
“No, darlin', don't apologize, it's okay. Come on, I'll take ya home.”
“No, I drove. I can-”
“Darlin', I'm not letting you drive home looking as sick as you are. Now come on honey, I'll drive ya, and we can pick up your car later, okay?”
Joel stood up and walked around the other side of the picnic table, where you were seated. You were mad, hating that your body did this to you. You mumbled, “Great, you blew it again, woman. Finally, get a nice guy, and this crap happens; good luck getting him to go out again with you.”
Joel heard what you said, and it upset him to think that your getting sick would bother him. Yes, it did bother him that you were ill. But not because it messed up the date you two were having, but because of how you looked; he wasn't comfortable just leaving you alone. You were so pale in the face, and you were struggling to stand that Joel was more concerned that you may need to go to the emergency room before the night was over.
As soon as Joel was by your side, he helped you stand. He took in your features and saw how suddenly weak you had become. Your hands had visible tremors, and you kept wincing and grabbing your back.
“Hey, honey, can you look at me briefly.” Joel gently took your hand and was looking at you in the eyes. “First, I don’t care what other people have done before me, darlin’. I’m telling you that I want another date with you, alright?”
When you nodded your head, he continued. “But, more importantly, I'm uncomfortable just dropping you off at home. Is there someone I can call that can stay with you?”
Shaking your head, you mumbled, “No, Joel, I don't have any family around.” 
“What about friends? I'm sure you have some friends that care about you enough that they would come and sit with you tonight.”
When he watched you look down, lip trembling at his question, Joel knew that he had majorly fucked up. You, indeed, were alone. This illness took special people away from you at your age. You reminded Joel of a cancer patient going through treatment, especially with how fast the illness symptoms came on. He remembered his mom being like that before she died of cancer. It broke his heart to think that you were struggling through life with this illness and that no one in these moments cared enough about you. He knew you had friends, as you talked about them earlier. But apparently, those friends were only surface-level friends, and when difficult moments like this happened, they were nowhere around.
“Oh baby, c’mere.” 
Joel pulled you into his chest and held you for a moment. “How about this, darlin’, I’ll take you home and stay the night with you. Don't worry. I'll sleep on the couch or the floor if you don't have a couch.”
You just nodded, but as you turned to leave, something in the world must have happened because it felt like the Earth tilted on its axis. As soon as you took a step, your vision went blurry, your face hit the ground hard, and you didn’t remember anything after that. You had fainted.
As you turned to leave, Joel grabbed your water bottles and sweater. As soon as he turned back around, it was like slow motion happened for him. Joel watched you take two steps towards the exit, and then all color left your face as your eyes rolled back into your head. You fell to the ground like a ton of bricks.  As soon as he saw that you were collapsing, he mumbled “shit” under his breath and then was moving fast to get to your side.
“Baby, come on. Open your eyes for me. Come on, baby, can you open your eyes? Darlin', look at me.” Joel was kneeling on the ground, lightly tapping your cheek. He was trying to get you to wake up after your fainting episode.  As soon as you started to come back around, you began coughing horribly. Joel quickly turned you on your side, rubbing your back as you kept coughing.
“It’s okay, baby, it’s okay.  I’m right here, slow breaths, come on now.”  He was gently holding your head as you lay on your side, coughing and struggling to breathe after your fainting episode.
“Hey man- is she ok?” another man yelled, approaching the two of you.
“Yeah, maybe we need to call an ambulance,” a woman shouted as she quickly approached.
When he heard a third person add their two cents about the situation, Joel's patience had officially expired. 
“Yeah, I saw the whole thing happen. She just collapsed, and her father rushed to her side,” another man yelled approaching.
“STOP,” Joel yelled. Glancing down, he saw you wince at everyone’s statements and try to hide your face. This was the last thing you needed: a crowd of people telling you what to do.  
“I’m a medical professional, and I have it under control. I’m also her boyfriend, NOT her father, ok? She’s awake now, and she’s done coughing. She stated she didn’t feel well before she turned around. I was going to take her home, and then this happened.”
“Well, I still think she needs an ambulance called. I’m going to-”
“For the love of God, please leave me alone; I'm fine now,” you snapped, turning more on your side to cover your face. You were so embarrassed for fainting in front of Joel and for the crowd that was now gathering around you.
“We were just trying to help; no need to be rude,” one woman said, snapping at your comment. 
“Thank you for your concern and help,” Joel said, looking at the woman who snapped at you. “I honestly thought for a moment that I may have needed to call an ambulance for her.  But as you can see, she’s ok.  I’ll look after her and take her in tonight if she needs to be seen. Is that alright, honey?”
You gently nodded your head, looking up at him. Joel was holding you close to him, helping you feel safe. 
“Y’all go home now. We got it under control. Thanks for offerin’ to help.”
People were mumbling as they started to disperse. Joel and you never paid attention to what they were saying. 
“Do you think that we can get you to sit up without you passing out on me again?” 
Joel gently cupped your cheek, looking straight into your eyes with concern. He didn’t like seeing you sick like this. You gently nodded your head at him as you went to sit up.
“Easy. Nice and slow, sweetheart, don’t rush it.” When Joel saw your eyes start to cross again, he thought he should have let that lady call you an ambulance. 
“Woah there honey, come on now, look at me. Do I gotta call an ambulance for you after all, 'cause I will darlin’?” Joel placed his hand on your cheek, looking at you in the eyes.  He was shifting his eyes back and forth, looking to see how you were responding.
“I’m fine, Joel. Just give me a minute, ok. If I need an ambulance, I’ll call one myself.”
Joel shook his head, disagreeing with you. “Darlin’, I don’t think you’re qualified to make that determination and decision right now.”
You let out a long and exhausted sigh. To Joel's defense, he didn't know where you worked full-time when you were feeling ok.
“Joel, this is said with as much love and appreciation as I can right now, but fuck off, please. Believe it or not, I’m a Paramedic, and I know-”
“Paramedic or not, passing out and being dizzy doesn’t qualify you to treat yourself. You know this.” Joel hated reminding you of one of the biggest lessons in medicine: you don't treat yourself. He could see you were slightly annoyed and irritated with him and the other bystanders here. He decided that maybe a little humor might help lighten the tense mood.
“For the record, darlin’. I believe the proper term is ‘fuck me, please.’ And you say it when I’m doing just that.”
That made you smile and laugh at the ridiculous statement of telling off the one man still beside you. With a little bit of sass, you also added, “Yeah, and then when we’re finished, you'll moan; ah, fuck, my back.”
“Ah, there she is. There’s my sassy girl.” Joel was now laughing at your sassy attitude and statement that you just made. 
Joel looked down at you tenderly. Even though you were ill, you were still so beautiful. Joel cupped your cheek, slowly running his thumb up and down your skin. He watched you bite your lip, looking from his eyes to his lips. Tension started to fill between you both. The air was thick with it. Joel moved his hand to the back of your head, gently cradling it. He placed his forehead against yours, exhaling slowly, trying to control himself. He envisioned you underneath him but knew he couldn't tonight, not with you feeling under the weather. But soon, he'd take you in his bed and show you how a real man cared about a woman. But right now, he could give you something else. Joel slowly leaned in and gently pressed his lips to yours. The kiss was slow, soft, and passionate. 
When your lips parted slightly, he deepened the kiss, licking into your mouth and massaging his tongue against yours. When the kiss picked up in intensity, soon, you both were wrestling your tongues together, fighting to hold yourselves back. You let out a little whimper, moaning slightly into his mouth as your tongues continued to dance together. Eventually, when he pulled back, you found that you both were gasping for air.
“Baby, I'll take pain in my back any day if it means that I get to kiss you and hear you moan like that when I fuck you.”
“Joel, please-”
“Later baby, later. I promise when you're feeling better. Now, come on, let's get you home.”
You didn’t know how you lucked out and won the lottery with the man standing before you.  But goddamn, you were the richest girl in the world, especially when he kissed you like that. Joel wrapped his arm around your waist and helped you return to his truck to take you home. You didn't know then, but that would be the last first date you'd ever be on. 
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3 Years Later
Joel was sitting in his office, finishing up some much-overdue paperwork. He glanced up when he heard you enter, giving you a warm smile at seeing you. But when you didn't return it, he knew something was wrong. You looked exhausted, like you hadn't slept much, yet today was your day off.
“Are you ready to go, babe?” You were not trying to sound irritated, but you failed miserably. 
You were uncomfortable, 32 weeks pregnant with Joel's child, a daughter, and she had spent all day kicking you hard in your internal organs. You were tired and frustrated, really not in the mood for grocery shopping with your husband. So when you got up to Joel's desk, you leaned back against it, placing your hand on your swelling stomach. You were trying to ease some of your discomfort. But as you did, you felt your daughter pick up with the constant kicks again. Usually, her kicks would give you comfort and joy, but not today. Today, your feet were aching, your back was hurting, and you were exhausted. You just wanted to lay down and rest today, but every time you attempted to, your daughter would give you hard, steady kicks against your internal organs.
“I’m almost done, sweetheart, then we'll go.” Joel smiled, quickly finishing up with his final notes from today.  
Next week was Joel's 50th birthday, so this weekend, you wanted to throw him an outdoor barbeque with his closest friends and family to celebrate his birthday. You wanted to go shopping tonight for all the supplies for this weekend, and Joel agreed to go with you to help you pick out the items he wanted. He was looking forward to the barbeque, and you were too about three months ago when you first planned it. Now, you weren't too keen on the idea of hosting 30 people in your backyard when you were 32 weeks pregnant.
You let out another long sigh, feeling the weight of life once again kick the hell out of you. You reminded yourself that this is what you wanted, a baby to grow inside you. But right at this moment, you wanted to go back to the night Joel fucked you to conceive this little fire pistol and hit your husband right in the nuts. 
“You know there, little one, you can stop kicking Mama so damn hard for once, and just quiet down, please.” You slowly rubbed your belly where you were feeling a fluttering of kicks. When Joel heard your discomfort, he immediately put his pen down and sat back in his chair.
“Baby, come here.” 
You slowly shuffled over to your husband, standing between his widened legs, then gently leaned yourself back against his desk.  As soon as you took up your proper standing position, Joel immediately took his hands and gently held each side of your belly, feeling his daughter kick both of you.
“Shh there, baby girl, don’t be so hard on your mama.  Daddy missed you today.” Joel slowly leaned forward and kissed your belly several times while his daughter kicked.
You had a huge baby belly at 32 weeks pregnant and in your last trimester. If people looked at you from behind, they'd never know you were pregnant. But from the front, it looked like you swallowed a giant basketball. So, to put it mildly, you were exhausted.  
Joel and you had been married for almost two years when you popped positive on a pregnancy test.  You both weren’t trying for a baby. She came to you as a surprise, and you were so happy to have her.  You had stopped your birth control the night of your wedding, hoping to get pregnant.  But after two years and a lot of tests, you had given up on the ability to have kids.  The doctors said that your body wasn’t accepting pregnancy because of your autoimmune disease.  So you went on with life thinking that you couldn’t get pregnant at all.  Then, by some miracle, the first night that you and Joel spent in the new house that you had built, he fucked you on every available surface, knocking you up somewhere between the kitchen counter and the coffee table. But now, as you rapidly approached your due date, you found yourself struggling with horrible exhaustion with the simple things in life like walking.  You were lucky that your autoimmune disease had calmed down so much during pregnancy, a hidden fail-safe that most people didn’t know about.  The problem was delivery day was rapidly approaching, and you were scared about what would happen with your autoimmune after your daughter came out.  But today, you didn't concern yourself with those fears, as you were exhausted at the fact that she wouldn’t let you hardly sleep last night nor relax anytime today.
“Babe, what’s the matter?” Joel had stopped kissing your stomach and was now cautiously looking at his wife. You were breathing fast with your eyes closed. 
“Honey, are you ok?” Again, you did not respond. Joel called your name, but you never opened your eyes. Your eyes were closed as your breathing became erratic.
“Hey, come on, look at me. Baby, open your eyes and look at me.”
“Jesus Joel, what?”
Joel's heart was in his throat at your lack of responding to him for a moment. He still didn't like how you were breathing, but at least now you were looking at him. He could see that you were frustrated, so he ignored that you snapped at him.
“Honey, talk to me, what's the matter?” Joel slowly rubbed your belly as he felt your daughter kick again. Tears welled up in your eyes, frustration and exhaustion being evident.
“I’m fine, it's just, it’s hard today, alright?” You placed your head in your hands as you felt your pregnancy hormones take over, and a light sob escaped your mouth.
Pregnancy hormones were complex every day, but today, they were awful. You hated the constant need of wanting your husband to be inside of you. You were horny for him, sex being something you haven't done in a few weeks again because of scheduling conflicts. But your daughter was constantly beating every organ inside of you, turning your need for your husband into something you couldn't do yet again. You were so exhausted today and just feeling so overwhelmed with life.
“Woah there, Angel, come on, talk to me. Baby, why are you crying? Are you getting contractions, honey?” Joel lowered his hand, trying to feel if contractions were starting anywhere on your belly.
“No, it's just she’s been kicking like this all day.” 
When Joel realized your tears were out of the pain of kicks, and not contractions, and mostly frustration, he felt himself calm down. Joel gently rubbed your belly, trying to calm your daughter down.
“She's been kicking you all day like this, hasn't she?”
“Yes,” you winced as your daughter sucker punched the heck out of your ribs once again, causing you to wince and call out in pain.
“Woah, there, little lady, that was a powerful kick. How about we save those punches for when boys wanna come around later in life, huh? Give your mama a break and let her rest.” 
Joel crouched down and kissed your belly again, talking to his daughter and trying to get her to quiet down for you. When he felt a strong kick against his mouth, he sat back and then scolded her. 
“Excuse me there, Baby Miller, but kicking your daddy hard in the mouth isn't very nice. We'll have none of that behavior, young lady, ya hear me?”
“God, Joel, I love our daughter, but today, these kicks fucking hurt. I thought maybe you’d want me after shopping, but how do people do this?” You exhaled again as your daughter kicked your ribs on your other side, not as hard, but still a firm kick.
Joel slowly stood up and gently lifted your chin. When he spoke his next sentence, he wanted you to look at him straight in the eyes. 
“Darlin’, don’t you ever question if I fucking want you, ya hear me. Baby, I always want you, day or night; it doesn't matter. And for the record, it isn’t me who needs any prep time to get in the mood; it's you. But with kicks like this, I’m assuming it’s a no again for any intimate time, which is okay.” 
Joel raised his hands defensively, ensuring you understood that he didn’t expect anything from you. But when he turned to walk across the room to grab his raincoat, you mumbled sarcastically under your breath. “No, the real reason is I look like a stupid whale; that’s why you don’t want me.”
Hearing what you said, Joel immediately spun around and glared at you. He was upset you were talking down to yourself and how you looked. You were his wife, who was carrying his child, and god dammit, you weren't a whale, and he did want you. You were a sexy, beautiful, attractive woman, even while pregnant. Joel loved you, but your constant put-downs of yourself were starting to tick him off.
“What was that? What did y’say?” 
“Nothin’,” you mumbled, knowing that Joel heard you criticize yourself. You knew you should have just kept your mouth shut.
Joel slowly approached you and placed his coat on the chair. You looked down, slowly biting your lip. 
“No, little girl, eyes up here.” Joel gently grabbed your chin and tilted your head up. When your eyes met his, you saw that they were impossibly dark, pupils were blown wide with lust.
“First, darlin', you ain't a whale, so none of that. And second, you're my wife who's pregnant with my daughter; that's sexy by itself, baby. And for the record, I fucking want you.” Joel grabbed your ass and gave it a firm squeeze while slowly thrusting his hips against your closed heat. You could feel that he was already hard, but he didn’t rip off your clothes. That’s not what you needed right now, and you both knew that. 
Joel slowly reached out and started stroking your belly lightly while gently tilting your head to give you a slow, tender kiss. However, very quickly you were the one to deepen the kiss, nipping his lower lip and shoving your tongue in his mouth. Joel growled at your heated kiss, struggling to keep his composure with you.
“Darlin', if we don't slow down, I won't be held responsible for what I will do. Do not tease me, baby,” he said through gritted teeth.
But you didn't want to listen, nipping Joel again on the lip, trying to provoke a heated reaction from him. As he went to give you a gentle tap on your ass and to rip your pants off, you let out a sudden cry in pain. 
“Fuck, shit, ow.”
“Ok, darlin', enough horsing around, what's happening?” Joel snapped at you, no longer wanting to play this game of you not communicating with him when he could see your discomfort.
“It's your damn child kicking my freaking cervix Joel. God, why is she doing this today?”
“I don't know, baby, but how about we head home? I'll give you a massage and try to get her to calm down. You're stressed mama, and that's unhealthy for you and our daughter. Now come on, up we go.”
Joel made good on his promise to take you home and help you relax. About five minutes after he began massaging your belly, your daughter finally calmed down. Apparently, she just wanted a little attention from her daddy. About fifteen minutes after she settled in, you finally fell asleep, exhaustion winning. As Joel looked down at your resting form, all swollen and pregnant with his child, he smiled. Life was extraordinary, giving him the chance to have a family again, but this time when he was older and almost 50. 
Joel made dinner and let you sleep the rest of the night. Later, as he lay next to your sleeping form, he felt his heart swell with affection and love for you.  He reached out and gently touched your belly, feeling his daughter was finally calm and asleep. He stared at you in the dark, until his eyes felt heavy with sleep and he found himself drifting off to thoughts of you. Joel didn't care what people thought about whether he should be with you at such an older age. Joel was damn happy that you were in his life, and to believe that this all started because of a simple debate about pineapple on your pizza. And that was the best 50th birthday present ever: the chance to have happiness once again.
End Part 2
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hazelfoureyes · 3 days
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Not hazbin related— sorry for the odd not horny personal post
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Donate here if you’re able and wanting to (PayPal username is JHilliard109) sharing is also a lovely way to help support me (support my mother)
So.
You may have noticed I was briefly MIA recently , and it’s because I’ve been ✨stressed and angry✨
My mother is currently in remission for breast cancer and was excited to use the state dental insurance she was notified in November she had. She lost some teeth to chemo, along with other issues, only having three teeth on the bottom of her jaw but all of her teeth on top.
In March she got approved and scheduled for May surgery to remove all her teeth and for her denture appointments in June. They had her get rides two hours away because they said they’d only pay for that specific doctor in network. (She can’t drive due to seizures)
After they took all her teeth, they called and said she actually wouldn’t be covered for the dentures or the surgery they already did. She was told, “Lots of people are out there walking around without teeth.” They said her insurance actually ended at the end of March, despite no notification and still approving the May and June appointments. They said it was a state thing and didn’t know why it ended. Even the morning of the May surgery they CONFIRMED she was approved with her dental surgeon. Then four days after the surgery they said “oopsies no you weren’t.” And sent her a 4800$ bill.
They can eat my entire ass.
So, they took her teeth and then told her tough luck. They made a mistake in approving these and won’t own up to it. She’s made it through cancer just for some knobheads to take her goddamn teeth. 
Did she have a lot of teeth before? No. But she never would have had them all taken out if she hadn’t been told she was approved for fully paid for dentures. She even asked to get just half dentures (bottom half) and was dissuaded. “We will only pay for this procedure one time, so it’s best to get it all done at once.” (Paraphrasing)
If you can, we’d appreciate any help in getting my mom some teeth. We’re looking into a place that would offer payment plans and looking into lines of credit to make it happen but anything would help offset the shocking and unfair burden placed on my mother.
We’ve been quoted around $3500 for a full set of “standard” dentures (meaning…not… the best? Lmao Jesus I don’t even know what that means but it’s what we can manage. I didn’t know they had good and bad ones??). We’re using PayPal as we don’t expect to raise that full amount, so gofundme wouldn’t be helpful.
We are getting her some goddamn teeth one way or another, but any help would be immensely appreciated.
Because I’m in Japan we’re using my sister’s PayPal. If you’d considered tipping or using my ko-fi in the near future, consider instead donating to help get my mom some fucking teeth. 🫠 any money I receive through my own PayPal and ko-fi will go to this anyway. I’ll be working more, too, to add to the dentures fund.
fuck Florida and fuck the government for doing this to my mother 🖕🏼 had they not made SEVERAL mistakes in approvals and lack of communication she would have teeth still. So in my angry opinion, they fucking took them from her by misleading her into an unnecessary surgery.
my mom, before the cancer and chemo took her hair and a breast, and before her teeth were bamboozled out of her fucking skull (with her grandbaby)
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pianokantzart · 3 days
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Why do you think (movie) Bowser is obsessed with Peach? Do you think he takes her personality into account but takes it too far, or do you think it's completely shallow? The imaginary Peaches that popped up during his song wore facial expressions that the real Peach would never wear, plus she seemed genuinely shocked when he proposed, so that makes me wonder how well they even know each other. I'm curious as to HOW they knew each other pre-movie, since they clearly did know each other well enough to have some judgements about one another.
Okay, so this is my take: The main things we know for sure is that Bowser and Peach have been sworn enemies for years, and that Peach's resentment toward Bowser only fuels the flames of his infatuation (pardon the pun).
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Some additional details we can glean is that Peach leaves her kingdom pretty regularly judging by the ease with which she traverses surrounding lands and the casualness with which she bids her toads goodbye.
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I theorize that Princess Peach has acted as kind of a proto-Mario in the past, traveling around to help various kingdoms combat Bowser's attempts at world domination. Unfortunately for her, her poise, resolve, and especially her beauty, seem to have caught the enemy's eye.
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The fact that Bowser's army traveled all the way out to The Mushroom Kingdom for the sake of love rather than for the sake of revenge came as a surprise to everyone, but at the same time Bowser doesn't seem like the type to undergo journeys like that out of pure spite. He had an end-goal; a prize he wanted to claim which... in this instance... was Princess Peach herself.
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I think while his "love" is shallow, the reasons behind it are multifaceted: Whatever Bowser wants, he takes. He won't accept no for an answer, and reacts to any sort of pushback with violence. At the same time, for all his power he's an extremely unhappy and lonely person. His minions may respect him and Kamek may worship the ground he walks on, but he can't form a bond with yes-men. Peach is both desirable on an aesthetic level and strong-willed enough that even if he was to force her into marriage, she's not going to just bow her head and fall in line like everyone else.
His ultimate dream is to eventually prove himself so cool, so great, so powerful, so indomitable, that she can't help but fall for him in return, earning him an equal companion, but unfortunately for him Princess Peach values inner strength and a strong sense of morality above any sort of wealth or power.
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