#her nurse told me she expects me to come around more now that i can drive (sigh)

[ahaura]

it has been a long day but. finally home 🧎‍♀️

[writerpeach]

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Kep1er/Madein Kang Yeseo x m!reader

10k words

Happy Yeseo day!

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Read on AO3

“Come on, just go say something to her.” 

“It’s not that easy, Ting.“ 

Two drinks in, and this isn’t your finest moment. It’s not like you’re too shy to approach a girl at the bar, or embarrassed, but—

“What’s the worst thing that happens? She tells you to fuck off?" 

"Well yeah—exactly that.” 

“So what? You get rejected, order another drink, and then you try again. If you don’t, then you have someone hot to take home and put your dick in.” A frustrated sigh later, and then you hear a thud against the bar counter, as your companion slams her drink down. You look over to see Xiaoting call over the bartender with a wave of her hand, as if she’s the one that needs a stiff drink more than you do. 

“She's even your type. If you don't go over there and say something to her, then I will," Xiaoting huffs, reaching over to yank the fruity drink out right from between your fingers to steal a sip.

"Please, as if you know who my type is."

"She's a woman, and she’s pretty. That's your type,” she returns, a slight chuckle escaping as she sips on her own drink, eyeing you down with hopes to encourage you to get off your ass.

"I don't even know what to say. Hi, you're cute. Let me buy you a drink? That sounds all so generic, doesn't it?"

"Exactly that," Xiaoting replies. "It's not that difficult.” And with a sudden push, you find yourself stumbling into the open, caught in your own thoughts. This girl—she’s gorgeous. Even from a distance, she stands out in this white little dress that beckons you, makes your heart beat a little faster with how well it hugs her body. A cute face with that figure, it’s a sinful combination. 

Well, here goes nothing. 

You nearly stumble over your own two feet when you approach cautiously, incredulous to the fact that Xiaoting’s powers of persuasion are responsible for this—but you can't disappoint now. The odds seem to be in your favor: she's alone, nursing a glass of something dark and murky and barely touched, so this seems as good an opening as any.

"H-hi, I—" you stutter out before any full words can escape you, barely managing to utter a single syllable before your confidence breaks. Your words stick in your throat as the girl looks up, away from her phone for a brief glance, eyes curious. And already you feel like an idiot.

"Hi there," she says, wearing this warm smile across her lips, and the fact that she hasn't already told you to fuck off nearly has you in a panic. Yet you have no follow through, with half a mind to turn around and walk right through the exit, but you can’t with how your legs feel glued in place.

"Can I uh…" 

In that brief moment, you've completely forgotten how words work. This is all so embarrassing, you don't know why you let Xiaoting convince you in the first place. You could be at home, catching up on favorite shows in your favorite pajamas—yet, you're stuck in this fancy venue, about to make an ass of yourself. 

"Buy me a drink?" she finishes for you, taking pity on the fact you can't find your bearings. "Sure. As long as you have one, too.” 

That goes way better than expected—you already had one foot in the opposite direction prepared to make a quick getaway. You take a seat beside her with a small victory, a quick glance back at Xiaoting who offers a silent thumbs up in the dim light from a distance, which is enough confidence to fill your entire body and get the ball rolling.

"My name's Yeseo," the girl introduces, taking a slow sip from her glass. "Saw you staring at me from across the bar.. was wondering when you would come over and introduce yourself. “

"Sorry I just—couldn't take my eyes off of you." 

You want to vomit. 

Of all the things you could have said, that sounds like the worst possible outcome. You curse under your breath, and nearly down your drink in one go, hoping this alcohol makes its way through your system as fast as possible. 

"Don't be," Yeseo replies with a smile. "You're cute. Glad your friend convinced you to talk to me."

"Ah, was it that obvious?"

She nods, leaning forward to swirl the remains of her glass, the clink loud enough to distract you. "Noticed you staring from a mile away. Most guys come up to hit on me the moment they see me, with some shitty pickup line and a bad attitude. But not you. You hesitated. Which means you don't do this that often..."

"You got me. I'm terrible at this, in case you didn't notice already."

“Honestly," Yeseo starts. "It's cute. A welcome change from all the creepy guys who think I'll fuck them the second I talk to them."

You stare into your drink for a moment, hoping a bit more courage starts to manifest to drown the nerves. Yeseo, she's beyond pretty, absolutely the prettiest girl in the whole goddamn bar—the least you can do is treat her with respect. 

"So," Yeseo says, as the bartender comes to slide you both new drinks. "You've bought me a drink. Now tell me something about yourself. Anything at all."

Her demeanor is confident, composed—while you can barely handle looking directly into those eyes without feeling flustered. Your mind has already become a blur of indecision, so you blurt the first thing to cross your mind. 

"Just moved here for work a few months ago. Don't really know too many people. I met Xiaoting at a coffee shop and she showed me around the city, and somehow, she dragged me to come here for a night out."

"XIaoting? Your friend over there?"

You just nod.

"Good for her. Drinking's fun," Yeseo says and takes a long, careful sip of her glass, crossing one bare leg over the other, as if that was enough to prove her point. "Probably the best thing to do in this city."

"Have you been here a while, then?"

"A year or two," she muses. "Moved out here to do some modeling, but it doesn't exactly pay the bills. Had to resort to doing some side gigs just to cover the rest.” 

"Side gigs?" you repeat, raising an eyebrow. 

"You know. A little erotic photography.” Yeseo sips at her drink, so nonchalant and casually. “The kind that satisfies people's fantasies for the right price." 

Oh.

You freeze mid-sip at the curveball you’ve been thrown, as you attempt not to choke on your own drink, unsure if you heard her correctly. 

"Do you wanna see some examples? I can show you." Yeseo pulls her phone out before you can even answer, tapping a few times before sliding the phone over, as if she has no sense of discretion whatsoever to share these with an almost complete stranger. 

What you see on that small screen is tamer than expected, but nonetheless—you’re taken aback. 

Yeseo's all dolled up, wearing sheer white lingerie, posed suggestively on a black leather couch, legs all spread out for the camera to see—possibly in the exact same heels she has on now. She scrolls through, presenting each picture for you with a simple swipe of her finger. Different outfits, different poses, increasing levels of nudity. 

It's not until she gets near the end that the pictures leave little to the imagination, no clothes, only a suggestive stare, and strategic placement of objects blocking what matters most. By the time you return her phone, you’re jolted back to reality, the startling juxtaposition between these images and this cute, bright girl sitting right next to you. 

"People pay a lot of money just for me to send those types of pics. Men mostly. Then they'll pay extra just for me to pretend I'm their girlfriend. It's kind of sad actually, but it pays well, and all I have to do is send pictures of my tits and pretend to be interested for a few hours."

"The camera doesn't really do you justice…" you say out of nowhere, and you can feel your face heating up when you finish that sentence, like you've found this modicum of courage. 

"Well, thanks. Aren't you the sweetest thing?" There's something to that smile, the way Yeseo glances in your direction, those eyes so alluring, so damn beautiful. She runs her hand slowly through her long, dark hair, brushing it off to one side, before resting on the counter. "I can give you a closer look if you'd like. My apartment's not far."

You almost choke on your drink again. 

Yeseo doesn't hesitate, doesn't hold back. The look in her eyes is completely irresistible, her gaze trapping you as she inches closer, making a quick move across the counter, a hand coming to rest on your knee. 

She squeezes gently and you swallow nervously at Yeseo's not-so-subtle intentions, your mouth suddenly so dry that you chug the rest of your drink—savoring the way it burns on the way down. There's no hiding the flush across your face, the obvious redness around your cheeks. "Y-yeah, that sounds—" 

"You don't sound so sure. Do you need your friend to come speak for you?" she teases, the tone of her voice shifting all cute and bubbly.

Xiaoting—you completely forget all about Xiaoting, turning your head in her direction, and she offers you a slight smile and a subtle, approving nod that keeps you going. "No, not at all. I'm fine." 

"Oh? Good then. Do you wanna fuck me?" Yeseo asks blatantly, pushing her drink away and pulling herself just a smidge closer until her face is mere inches from your own.

You're not fine.

You nearly faint at those words, barely able to think clearly in such a short amount of time. But you pull yourself together to answer with conviction, to gather the strength to reply with some shred of dignity. "Of course I do."

Yeseo likes that answer, and the fact that you can look her in the eye this time. "Hmm, thought so. Will your friend be joining us?" 

An answer doesn't quite form so fast this time—you shift nervously in your seat at the proposition, not expecting to take things any further. 

“I’m kidding. I want you all to myself.” 

With your head still spinning, Yeseo takes your hand and guides you out of the bar into the open air. You catch a passing glance of Xiaoting on your way out—wearing an expression full of excitement, like she knew this was all inevitable. 

Your phone buzzes once you're in the backseat of the taxi, Yeseo sliding in beside you, a message lighting up the screen. But you can already guess who it’s from before you even look. 

Xiaoting (09:06 PM):

knew you had it in you

go get your dick wet, tiger

You send back a few hearts before silencing your phone and shoving it back in your pocket. 

“Come here," Yeseo says in your ear, and you listen, leaning over as she kisses you with those irresistible lips, more intoxicating than the liquor running through you. One more kiss leaves you drowning in lust, and god, the way she pulls you in and devours you in an instant—it's an easy prelude to what's coming, leaving you aching for more.

You melt right then, forgetting how to breathe for a split second, when her lips press deeper against yours. By the time you recover, she's halfway into your lap, straddled atop your thighs—a bold move considering you're still very much in the presence of a complete stranger. But that hardly bothers her when she shifts against you, kissing you again, and her hands aren't shy either, exploring wherever they please.

Those lips feel as soft and sweet as they look, and you can still taste the liquor on her breath when she kisses you, all aggressive and eager, each lingering for a bit longer, almost forgetting where the two of you are, until the car halts to a sudden stop. 

You reluctantly part your lips from hers, catching your breath again, as she tucks a finger under your chin to direct your gaze back at her. “This is me. Come on.” 

The interruption is torturous, and Yeseo lets out this devilish little smirk when she climbs off your lap and crawls out of the cab, her urgency only growing once you get inside the building. Within seconds, you've got her pinned against a wall in the lobby, hands all over the body of this petite girl you just met, and end up missing the elevator after getting lost in these lips. 

You catch the next one, and the doors are still sliding shut when you press a feverish kiss to Yeseo's neck, already leaving marks on her flawless skin that are sure to show up within hours. One elevator ride, a long hallway all the way to the back, and not a single barrier can stand in your way when you’re at her front door, pressed against the surface while these desperate kisses get more heated, making out so shamelessly for everyone to see.

"Come in—come in so you can fuck me," Yeseo says all greedily between kisses, and she wrestles getting her key into the lock, something you're both laughing about.

"That’s the plan, isn’t it?” you say, fueled by alcohol and lust, and your words surprise the both of you. Yeseo swings the door wide, tossing her keys on a counter with barely enough time to kick her heels off before she jumps into your arms without any warning. 

You carry her further in, the weight of her petite frame less of a burden and more a comfort as you look around at the unfamiliar territory of her apartment—a fairly nice space. The living area isn’t exactly sparse, but doesn't feel massive either. A few paintings hang on the cream-colored walls, fashion magazines littering her small coffee table, while an open laptop sits unattended on a sleek black sofa that looks surprisingly familiar. There’s a sweater resting on an armchair opposite the couch, along with a tall tripod standing beside that seems out of place at first, until you connect the dots.

But as Yeseo looks at you, you find this sudden indomitable spirit, the confidence to do absolutely anything. “Can’t wait to get my tongue in you.” It’s the boldest thing you’ve said so far, but the effect is immediate. 

“Fuck, say that again. About time you finally stopped being shy around me."

“Wanna get my tongue all over you—“  

Yeseo bites her lip. She directs you to the couch, her lips never straying away for too long when you fall backwards against the cushions. And wasting no time, the laptop gets tossed aside as she plants herself in your lap again, with all the freedom to do so. 

"Well, you gotta unwrap me first," Yeseo says, giggling, and takes your hands, letting them run the length of her tight body until you find the zipper at the back of her little dress. One tug is all it takes and that whole outfit is on the floor, in a heap, so easily revealing what's beneath.

In mere seconds, Yeseo sits there in nothing but lace panties, a bra that matches, and a smile—the exact same set of lingerie you saw in her pictures. A model indeed, that puts her photos to shame, this sinful body the perfect mix of feminine yet toned, and those perky breasts are a perfect handful when she unhooks the clasp of her bra with ease, letting it fall right by her forgotten dress. 

The rest comes so easily—her panties drop with the same urgency, and you only catch a passing glimpse of her bare body until she falls atop the couch on her back, completely and utterly naked, offering herself to you like an exquisite feast. And so, the hunger kicks in, and this time, you make sure you don't even hesitate to indulge. 

Within moments, you’re making up her body with kisses, a slow, long drag of your tongue along her flat stomach, memorizing every curve, every inch of bare skin. You continue upwards, paying ample attention to each breast, first one and then the other—nothing but little nips and teasing pecks until finally taking one hard nipple between your teeth, not afraid of giving just a little bit of pressure, to draw a long exhale from Yeseo.

Her fingers tangle in your hair and urge you even more, but your tongue already is flicking furiously while your other hand rolls her opposite nipple between your fingers, drawing out that little whine into a blissful moan. These cute little gasps, you love them as much as Yeseo loves her body being lavished with attention, the way your lips tease, the way your hands roam and explore, relishing the naked perfection laid out before your eyes. 

“God, this feels good—wanna see what else your mouth can do." Yeseo reaches down and begins rubbing her clit in full circles, just in full view of you. 

"Patience," you say, as if you have any left in you, but take the hint nonetheless and head south. And then she guides your head down between her legs, spreading them wide, so you can get the best fucking view in the world, no cameras necessary—that pretty pussy, all bare and dripping wet, so ready to be devoured. 

When your mouth meets the inside of Yeseo's thighs—those perfect fucking thighs that are destined to be around your head, you take your sweet time exploring the creamy skin. From this position, it's all so visible, how wet she is, how those pink folds glisten, inviting you right in. And with those greedy fingers rubbing between, it's become even more apparent how desperate her body gets in response to your touch. 

A few more wet kisses on her full thighs, and your tongue slides between those drenched folds, her arousal immediately flooding your mouth. Yeseo lets out a sharp gasp the second you taste her, with a sudden bite of her lip as she stifles a cry, hips bucking so desperately into your face. "Fuck—"

Yeseo has the sweetest taste that fills your mouth, and you want to drag this moment on forever. Your tongue teases, pushing inside and delving deep, exploring her pussy before you find her sensitive clit. She sounds so needy, that you can’t help but grant what she wants right away, circling around, flicking lazily against the swollen bud until you seal your lips around it, sucking hard.

“Shit, holy shit,” Yeseo cries out, falling apart so beautifully already. She can't stay still, writhing helplessly as the ecstasy slowly builds, the taste of heaven coating your lips. When you push two fingers inside her dripping core, curling and pumping while continuing the assault with your mouth—she just lets go, entirely, with a series of desperate whines, clutching tightly on to the back of your head and grabbing a fistful of your hair. “Fuck, how are you so good at this?” 

"Dunno. Maybe because you taste so fucking good," you say, voice all muffled between the heavenly thighs that slowly close around your head, trapping you in their intoxicating softness. You need Yeseo to be absolutely convinced how divine she is when your fingers pull out, cleaning them off before replacing them with your tongue, plunging all the way inside her wetness. 

"And to think," Yeseo pants, as she pushes your head deeper into her cunt. "You could barely fucking talk to me. Now look at you, eating my pussy—so fucking well. Not too shy to bury your head between my legs."

That's enough praise for you to make sure you deliver, to keep giving Yeseo what she wants, lapping away at her delicious cunt, eager for every drop. This time, when she clamps her thighs harder around your head, you give all you've got, working her clit frantically, slurping so lewdly to make those moans tumble out. 

Her taste is unforgettable, and you can’t help but be ravenous for more, tasting as much of Yeseo as you can get your lips on, a never-ending feast that keeps those deliciously warm thighs squeezing your head. You keep a tight seal around her swollen clit, and a hand flat on her smooth stomach to pin her down—never letting up, witnessing how she crumbles, how she edges closer by the second. 

"I'm close, fuck, so close," she says so desperately, eyes squeezed shut, holding your head steady to her core. You give her all these messy licks that leave her gasping, shallow breaths growing more frantic, eyes pleading, and with that one last swirl of your tongue, you take her right over the edge. "Fuck, oh god, shit, shit shit—"

It’s gorgeous, the way she shatters. Her whole body shudders, thighs quivering around your head so violently, so perfectly, as your mouth keeps all the pressure on her clit she needs, until Yeseo cums right on your face. 

The pure bliss hits so hard that a surge of her delectable juices pours right into your mouth, a flood of endless sweetness, and it all tastes so fucking incredible. Yeseo keeps you right there between her legs for this burst of pleasure to linger, lips parted, crying out in broken moans, riding it all out with all these messy flicks of your tongue that draw more nectar into your mouth.

Her release is all over your face by the time she's done, and you're licking her through the whole thing. But your hunger isn’t satiated so easily, dragging through her sopping wet folds, sucking frantically on her clit, until Yeseo has to shove your mouth away—unable to take any more.

That intoxicating sweetness clings to your tongue, and you lick your lips to savor every morsel. When you glance up into Yeseo's eyes, she's still shaking, out of breath, chest heaving, blushing hard, trying to come down from the intensity. 

"Can't talk to a girl at a bar, but you can make her cum like that?" Yeseo asks between gasps, struggling to recover, still riding the euphoric high after such a satisfying finish. "You are full of surprises."

You don't say much, more interested in kissing the creamy, flushed skin of her thighs, licking up whatever delicious nectar that you can clean up as her breathing starts to get under control. But the longer you lay there, just kissing, softly caressing her naked body, the more that need for your own pleasure starts to rise, reminding you how painful and neglected your erection is—straining against the confines of your pants.

You need to be inside Yeseo.

As you brazenly stare at her legs spread wide, this gorgeous exhibit of her glistening slit dripping with arousal, you tug at the hem of your shirt, pulling it off and tossing it haphazardly on the floor. There's not a drop of discretion when Yeseo's eyes land on your bare chest, watching every movement, not even offering to help, gaze slowly lowering when she catches sight of how tented the fabric of your pants has become. 

"Those need to come off, immediately," Yeseo demands, licking her lips. 

"Working on it, give me a second—” you say, reaching for the belt around your waist, fiddling with the buckle, trying so desperately not to lose eye contact as Yeseo stares hungrily into your eyes. And the moment your pants and boxers finally come off, freeing your rigid cock—she's practically drooling. 

"Oh fuck, that’s gonna feel so good inside me," Yeseo gasps, as her eyes light up, and already she's guiding you to her inviting heat, her small hand making all these little pumps that get you nice and hard. She lets you do the rest—the anticipation agonizing when you grip your cock tightly, pushing against her wet entrance and looking at the approval in her eyes for a fleeting moment. 

And then, those silky wet folds part, and you slide right into Yeseo. 

All of this was worth the effort, when you hear moans escape from her lips, nothing but bliss written on her innocent little features. 

"So damn tight—fuck," you moan, her cunt so goddamn wet and warm as her walls stretch wide around your length, accommodating the first few inches. It's unreal, the sensations you feel around your cock, the wet heat, the sheer tightness—and that's all before you've even started to move.

“Fucking give it to me. Pound me, I know you want to," is all Yeseo says when you take hold of her slender waist, your fingertips pressing firmly into her perfect skin, all eager to pound into her pretty little pussy. 

The invitation is too enticing, and you snap your hips, a shallow thrust at first, to get yourself accustomed to this smothering heat as she settles into the stretch. These walls covered in slick, they choke your cock from the first pump, her pussy so hot and deliciously tight around your length that it’s a struggle to not drive everything in all at once. 

You want to revel in how good Yeseo feels—how good this tight fucking pussy swallows you up and might never let go. Little by little, your hips gain momentum, until each plunge gets easier and easier, building gradually to a punishing rhythm that drives needy, unstoppable moans past her lips, gasping louder each time you sink deeper. 

“So good, feels so fucking good,” she says, every plunge eliciting a flood of juices between her folds that coats every inch of your cock in her delectable wetness.

You fall victim to those eyes when they meet your own, looking back at you, dark and pretty, lips parted. Without pause, Yeseo watches your cock thrust into her, taking in every inch inside her dripping folds, the delicate features you’ve drawn to paint such a sinful picture, eyes widened as she takes each delicious thrust, not able to hide her craving for more. 

"Keep doing that—you feel so fucking perfect inside me," Yeseo says, soft pleads in between breaths, biting her bottom lip hard, walls clenching harshly every time her heavenly cunt gets filled by your entire length. "Oh god, give me that fucking cock—"

You're gripping her body so possessively, fingers digging hard into her flesh, pulling her down with each thrust as your cock pounds away into that tight hole. There’s no wasted motion when you meet her demands, and you get so goddamn deep, bottoming out with ease, before pulling your slick cock out enough until only the very tip remains—then you slam back in harder than before without another word.

"H-harder," Yeseo whimpers, begging for all you can give, desperate to keep you buried inside her dripping core. Her eyes nearly roll back at the addicting stretch that draws out all these pitiful noises, your hips working overtime to satisfy her needs. 

Those perfect, perky tits bounce in unison with every forceful thrust, each rock of your hips into her slender frame growing more frantic, until you’re pounding mercilessly into that tight cunt. “Shit, this perfect little cunt—it feels so goddamn good, baby." And you can’t help the overwhelming feeling whenever you bottom out in Yeseo, sinking your length balls deep, again and again, that cute face all contorted in bliss when the rhythm picks up, and god, she just feels unbelievable—

"You're so fucking deep inside me," she tells you in this raspy, desperate voice as you get lost in how her tight cunt squeezes your throbbing cock. "Harder, fuck me harder, wanna feel all of you, wanna fucking cream on your big fucking cock. Pound my little pussy like I know you can.” 

Your hips can’t help but oblige these depraved words, burying yourself to the hilt whenever you pull out—leaving a wet, messy slap of flesh when you sink back in. 

At this point, you're basically fucking her into the couch like you’ve lost all restraint, thrusting into her hot cunt with a relentless, unforgiving pace, and still she asks for more, demands it even. You're addicted to these sensations, the needy cries she spills out when you get in so deep, the warmth of her slick pussy demanding every inch—taking it all without so much as a struggle. 

"Fuck, that's perfect—don't stop," she urges, clenching down on you while her wet warm walls quiver, urging you to shove the full length of your hard length deep inside her cunt. Nothing’s going to stop you, not now, not ever, not when your cock is surrounded by all this warmth, these unforgiving clenches to keep your momentum going, pleading for your cock to fill this girl’s perfect pussy like it belongs there. 

“Yeseo, fuck—you feel so incredible, love my cock in this pretty little cunt,” you groan, slamming yourself as deeply inside as you can, drawing out all these noises from Yeseo, desperate and greedy—each one driving you madder with need. 

"Keep that up, tell me how good it feels to fuck me—tell me.” 

You can hardly hear the words through her ragged breaths, her voice coming out so strained the longer you fuck her without respite. And you just can’t look away from how her cute, innocent features have turned into anything but drowning in lust while you thrust into her greedy little pussy with all your might.

"Shit, you feel so fucking good, baby—I love your tight fucking cunt, makes my cock feel so fucking amazing when I’m balls fucking deep inside you.” The words fall out before you can even think, because the thought of being anywhere other than this slippery warmth is out of the question. 

The most sinful type of bliss you can indulge in, ramming into Yeseo’s warm little cunt this hard and this deep, watching how her small frame gets rocked, these relentless thrusts that you can’t keep up for long as you look into her pretty eyes, unable to do much but surrender to the pleasure. 

“Don't stop, just a little longer—"Yeseo swings her legs around your waist, wrapping tightly around your body as if you'll even think about stopping. The way she's all coiled up gives you no other option than to piston your hips, drilling her deeper into the couch. 

And then Yeseo cums all over you, eyes shut, head tilted back as she clenches so tight around your cock you're almost right there with her, struggling to hold yourself back. Because this girl feels impossibly tight when she squeezes your length, spilling all this wetness that threatens to force you out were it not for the way her legs keep you trapped. 

"Keep fucking me, keep fucking me until you cum,” Yeseo murmurs, as her body still shakes with every pump of your hips, legs wrapping tighter to demand your cock stay inside. 

"W-wait—"

"No, inside," she demands again, locking her arms around your neck, and there's no way out of this when she clings so tightly, no chance for you to do anything but empty inside her greedy little cunt. "Cum inside, please. You've earned it."

Yeseo looks right at you, that lecherous gaze you'll never be able to defy as your hips obey, until her cunt squeezes you just the right way—and then you fucking explode, unloading so deep inside her in heavy bursts. You spill everything, nowhere to empty but right into her tight pussy, a huge, thick load, one shot after another firing out of your cock. 

It seems endless, the way you throb inside, flooding her cunt as Yeseo takes every thick spurt, milking you for everything you can give until your balls are completely drained and that hot cum has filled her completely.

"Yeseo, fuck…" you mutter, mind a jumbled mess as you try to remember what to call her, the girl whose name you've known all of an hour or so before you've fucked your load into her. All the tension flees your body at once, but your cock, however, doesn’t escape, because her arms and legs refuse to release.

You stay buried, hard and throbbing, long after your high has run out, until the last drop is claimed. Only then, does Yeseo loosen up her limbs, slowly letting the lock around your waist ease off, and it's over far sooner than you'd like. “Now aren't you glad you bought me that drink?"

All you can manage is this tired laugh and a sigh of relief as you collapse on her naked body, kissing at her sweaty neck with whatever energy is leftover. Yeseo, likewise, shows no signs of urgency, as you rest together to regain some strength. "Hold on…"

There's some rustling when she reaches for her handbag on the floor and grabs something from inside. When you're too weak to stay inside her warmth, eventually you slide out with a groan, leaving a huge sticky white trail pouring from her pussy. Yeseo presents her camera, aiming between her legs and snaps a few pictures to capture how absolutely messy her cunt has become after being filled to the brim. "People will pay a lot for these. You don't mind, do you?"

"Not if you share them with me too," you answer, breathless, barely coherent.

Yeseo grins at you playfully, handing over her phone so you can key in your contact details, a vibration coming through your pants pocket soon after. And then she stands up, unabashedly naked—your cum leaking down her thighs so messily as it glistens under the lights. 

"I should probably head home soon. Work in the morning, unfortunately.” Instant regret hits the moment such a poor excuse leaves your lips. Yeseo however, is much more interested in capturing this big mess you’ve left between her legs. 

"You're not going to stay the night? It's already pretty late.” 

"Don't exactly have anything to wear in the morning. Or even a toothbrush. I wasn't planning on getting so lucky tonight.” 

"I have everything you need in the bathroom," she says, determined to keep you right where you are, like she’s planned for every imaginable outcome. "But you wouldn't need extra clothes if you called in sick tomorrow, would you?"

She’s unbelievable. Not that this offer isn’t tempting, because you could pass out right here on her naked body, and waking up next to a model, one that looks like Yeseo? There’s better than winning the lottery. 

"It's not easy for me to call off work,” you say, intent on keeping up these lame excuses regardless of what you actually want, which is right underneath you. “We're behind on a project and I've got some important meetings tomorrow morning…"

Yeseo remains unconvinced. 

"Maybe a nice, hot shower with me will change your mind? At least clean up a bit before you decide..." she's already reaching for your hand, leading the way to the bathroom—despite the fact that you haven't said anything yet. A dangerous proposition, because you know if you step one foot inside the shower, you won't be walking away from her tonight. But maybe work can wait, and maybe you've worked enough overtime this week, because you suddenly feel a little under the weather.

Now that you’ve seen Yeseo’s naked figure under the hot running water, there’s no going back. 

Once you've toweled off and shaken off some of that exhaustion, you're still naked, sitting on Yeseo's bed after a quick tour of her bedroom that doubles as a photo studio. 

She makes a compelling argument lazily bobbing her head between your legs—as if you need more convincing with her mouth. And if that wasn’t enough, you've got her phone in your hands to distract you, with full access to a more explicit folder of photos she claims are for your eyes only.

When you scroll through, there's several shots of Yeseo playing with her tits, fingers shoved in her tiny little cunt for the camera, and a few of her riding a huge, fleshy toy on these same sheets, spread out on all fours with a girthy plastic cock shoved right inside her. 

"Shit, Yeseo—” It’s a response to both what's on your screen, and also the warm mouth slobbering on your cock as you flip through more of her work. She lets you slip out for a brief moment, and you nearly whine, but it doesn't last long, licking at your shaft, using her hand to pump all that spit into every inch. 

"This is what I do when I'm not at modeling gigs. Fuck myself on these toys my clients buy me, or take pictures of my body—you wouldn't believe what people will pay just for feet pics."

"Feet pics?" 

"Among other things. But those are pretty popular requests." Yeseo shrugs a bit. She gets back to work on that mouthful of cock, while you continue to scroll through her gallery of depravity, more shots of her tits, more focused shots of her wet, pink pussy, and the aforementioned feet pics, a dozen different colors of nail polish, wrapped up in nylons, stockings, thigh high socks—the options are endless.

"God, your mouth—it's fucking insane," you tell her as your thumb scrolls through the various images on her phone. "So you don't fuck any of the guys? Just talk to them for hours?"

And it's funny how you're holding a conversation through this blowjob that gets progressively messier, with obscene trails of saliva connecting Yeseo's wet, heavenly mouth to your stiff cock.

"I'm a model, not an escort service," Yeseo says, like it should be obvious. "I’ll do whatever they pay me for, within reason. Nothing weird, but that certainly hasn't stopped guys from asking. I usually dress up in costumes, or sexy lingerie and heels, and pose however they tell me to. Most men just want me to visualize their fantasies so they can jerk off to it as many times as they'd like."

"Sounds lucrative."

"It can be, but it's not a career,” Yeseo explains as she holds eye contact when the tip of her tongue presses right below your cockhead, giving the sensitive spot just the right amount of pressure. “Plus, I have to sort through a bunch of creeps with requests that I don't allow, especially when they're not offering to pay much. It can be very demanding, depending on the person." 

Through this all, you let out another groan. It takes considerable effort, but you manage to remain in the conversation, glancing down to see her angelic features on your cock. Yeseo bobs her head on and on, so sloppily, messy and deliberate, letting her spit flow all down her chin when you look away to glance back at the screen.

"People have this wild fascination with cute and innocent looking girls. I sell these fantasies, their deepest and most perverse desires fulfilled. I become anything they want. A slutty schoolgirl, a cheating housewife, a co-worker they've wanted to rail for ages. They pay me for my time and my body—I'm just the illusion they've created." 

When your cock hits the back of her throat, you tense up, nearly dropping the one thing that's keeping your focus divided. Yeseo gives a slow, easy glide back to the tip before engulfing your entire cock, throat squeezing every inch of your sensitive length as she slurps hard enough to get your full attention. 

But that’s when you find something even better than all those pics—it's a video, and it's taken from the shower, a perfect shot of Yeseo taking an oversized toy into her ass, inching further as she moans for the camera, spreading those cheeks for it all to go in. It nearly makes you forget about the wet kisses and tender licks on the delicate underside of your shaft, keeping your eyes to the screen, captivated.

"Ah, you found those, didn't you?" she chuckles, but she doesn't stop sucking at your shaft, dipping her mouth low to bring in your heavy balls that have filled up far too easily into her mouth.

"That ass—you've got a really nice ass, Yeseo," you admit in all honesty, your attention once again torn between the screen and how messy she's getting with her mouth on your swollen balls. Yeseo keeps playing with them, giving a nice squeeze, as she drools so heavily over each one and, this perfect fondle, massaging away while the video keeps playing.

"Yeah?" she asks after slurping hard, releasing your balls with this lewd, messy pop, drenched with a layer of spit as she gives another squeeze for good measure, moving right back to stroking your cock. "Those videos are more popular than almost anything else. My ass is kind of the moneymaker and some guys are more than willing to pay an obscene amount for a toy in my ass."

“Can’t blame them...” You’re throbbing heavily in her grip, not sure if it's the pleasure or that you've moved on to the next video, where Yeseo has the tip of a vibrator teasing her asshole. And then the toy gets pressed inside slowly, stretching her wider while you try to stifle a groan, until there's so much of it disappearing.

"We can try that if you’d like. Do you wanna do that to me?" she asks, and you're so entranced by the screen that you don't even process her words.

"No—ah, what?" you say, mindlessly distracted, setting her phone down on the sheets, bringing your full attention to Yeseo. 

"That video. We can recreate it. Not with the toy, but with your cock."

Your face blazes red at that admission—unable to wrap your mind around how she looks all too innocent while proposing the most sinful things.

"I’m asking—if you wanna put your cock up my ass? You said you liked it." Yeseo can see you blush as you try not to meet her eyes, but she won't leave it be, pressing for an answer.

"Do you even have to ask? Of course I do."

"Good, because you can,“ she tells you, getting up off her knees to reach into a drawer by her bed, digging up a half full bottle of lube that she tosses it toward you. “Here. Use this." Yeseo turns right around and eases into your lap, giving you a beautiful view of her perfect, plump ass that she pushes right up against your crotch, your cock nestled perfectly between. 

You don't do anything besides stare, unable to get past the way those pale cheeks perfectly press up against the full length of your stiff shaft. Then Yeseo pushes back again, making the offer clearer.

"Come on, open me up," she purrs, grinding those soft, supple cheeks against your cock slowly, a nice not-so-subtle way you get the hint. "Your cock, my ass. That’s where it really belongs. Get right inside my asshole.”

Your hand goes for the bottle of lube that she’s just retrieved from the bedside, but you don't uncap it yet, as you watch Yeseo rub that perfect ass along your erection. "Wait. Got a better idea."

Her head tilts, confused about what could be possibly better than this offer put on the table. But this girl’s body, the body of a literal model, you want to savor it all. With an ass like that, how could you not? You want to get even closer to appreciate it, pulling Yeseo onto the bed, hoping she gets the message. At first, she keeps this questioning look on her face—but when she figures out where you're headed with this, her expression brightens. 

She shuffles around to follow where you guide her, getting on all fours while facing the headboard, so that delicious ass raises toward you, those delectable curves all at your disposal. 

"Perfect,” you say to yourself, voice trailing off as you grab at her waist and position her just the way you'd like, admiring her full body on display, and fuck, that ass is unreal.

And then you stuff your face right in those cheeks. Yeseo laughs in delight, wiggling around just for your sake, making sure every inch is captured by your attention. You get two large handfuls—spreading her ass wide so you can have an unobstructed view, and that's when you dive right in and dip your tongue inside her puckered hole.

A sound of pure filth comes out of Yeseo right away, all broken and uninhibited. "Oh my god—"

With Yeseo's approval, you keep the tip of your tongue swirling, flicking around, coating her asshole with as much drool as possible as she starts moaning uncontrollably at your immediate assault, trying to adjust to these intense sensations. 

"And now you're eating my ass? You really are so full of surprises." 

"Do you really expect me not to?" you question back, as your mouth gets entirely preoccupied by lapping at her tight hole, slurping greedily and teasing around. Your licks only get sloppier each time you dip your tongue in deeper, more focused on pleasing her than keeping any kind of composure, eating her ass without restraint.

She grinds up against your face to praise your work, and it's all the encouragement you need, a palm on either side of her ass, spreading her hole wide—your tongue practically fucking her, devouring her tight little asshole so ravenously, slipping further and further inside. 

"F-fuck, baby, that tongue feels so good. Is this my reward for getting you to skip work?" Yeseo asks, half groan, half giggle as you work this sensitive area in ways that get the most obscene sounds pouring from her lips. She groans in absolute delight while your saliva flows freely down into her puckered hole, her cheeks surrounding your face, an absolute meal that has her scrambling for the bed sheets. 

"I'll quit my job tomorrow if I get to eat this fucking ass every single day," you utter through sloppy licks and frantic slurps, words all muffled, not letting up in the slightest from licking Yeseo open. The whimpers that slip through, and these shallow, shaky breaths, that’s all you care about, when this tight ring of flesh clenches harshly against your probing tongue.

“Just wait till you have this ass milking you dry for everything that dick's got," Yeseo says, a promise with a loud sigh, falling apart under your attentive, merciless mouth as you greedily tonguefuck her asshole, holding her nice and still. You could just about take her up on that, but you haven’t quite had your fill—not yet. 

So you keep those whimpers going, holding Yeseo in place as you continue to flick your tongue out in quick little strokes, licking her right where she's most sensitive. It's fucking perfect, how she helps spreads those asscheeks wide for you—like she can't get enough either, that twitching hole tightening each time it meets your tongue, tensing under your mouth, begging to stay filled. 

"God, y-you're so good at that," she gasps, arching that cute ass up higher, holding herself open even further when it's clear there's more pleasure than she can keep up with. There's this urgency in her voice, so impatient and eager—it drives you absolutely wild. 

But despite your selfish intentions to bury your tongue in Yeseo’s perfect ass forever, you can't ignore the persistent throbs your cock makes against the mattress—aching for relief, and you've got the perfect place for it to go.

When you pull back for air, you want nothing more than to shove your face back into those squishy cheeks—but the aching between your legs has other plans. You sit up on your knees, and admire all of Yeseo bent forward, presented like a meal, no question to where you're putting your stiff cock when you pop open that clear bottle. 

Now you’re in for the main event, but you can't help but give her delectable ass a smack, both hands grabbing those thick asscheeks. You take your time to spread the slick liquid around her rear entrance, and it makes all the anticipation almost unbearable as you work a finger inside that tight ring of muscle. She eases up to swallow you in, letting you test the warm, snug tightness bound to accommodate your cock that’s going to feel like heaven. 

"Fuck, your cock is going to stretch out my ass so much… so much better than that toy you saw me fucking." While you continue to prep her, Yeseo lets out the sweetest little sounds, relaxing almost instantly at your slick finger working its way inside, like she's done this more times than she can count.

"Yeah? Want me to ruin your pretty little asshole with this fucking cock?" And it's like her muscles know exactly what to do to hold you right in, hugging your digit, so you can barely contain yourself through this tight preview, thinking of how it'll feel clenching around your length. 

“Do you even have to ask?”

Yeseo’s cute little smile when she looks back gets all the blood pumping toward your throbbing hardness as you stroke the lube into your shaft, getting yourself nice and slick before aiming yourself right between her asscheeks. "Don't you worry, I'm fucking you until you can't walk straight."

Then, there's nothing else to do but slide your cock into her slicked up, eager hole. Slowly at first, as Yeseo braces for it—her eyes demanding every inch when you ease into the delicious, tight heat of her ass.

“My fucking god, baby—this ass is so much tighter than I ever imagined," you groan with a sharp breath, clutching her shapely hips while you rest your cock fully sheathed inside, not daring to move. You're not even sure if you can pull back out, completely overwhelmed at just how intense this grip is, and when you look down to see it all disappear—god, it's maddening. 

Nearly doubling over from pleasure, all rational thought gets driven out with that tight warmth gripping your cock so hard it steals your breath away. 

"Are you going to fuck my ass or just stare at it?" Yeseo asks, and you're tempted to do the latter, but she jerks her body backward to jumpstart the whole thing. When you pull out in one fluid motion, you have to stop for a second to admire her slick little hole stretching around the thickness of your shaft, before you slam back into the hilt. 

It takes little time for your cock to stretch that greedy asshole out as Yeseo welcomes in each thrust working her open, your hips making her cheeks jiggle when they meet. Looking back, she grins with bliss, a groan accompanying every pump as she adjusts to your size, inviting your cock into her ass with a perfect arch of her back. "Come on—show me how much you really love this ass, give me everything you’ve got.” 

Just like that, your hips get rougher. Yeseo welcomes this stretch that stuffs her so full, deeper each time your shaft pounds into her tightest opening, lost in lust while she clutches at the sheets, nails digging in for dear life. 

"There you go, baby, give me that fucking cock,“ she pleads with each snap of your hips, her ass crashing against you. So the rougher you get, the more she whines out for more—this sweet little innocent thing reduced to absolute sin, nothing but curses and groans leaving her parted lips. 

And while you watch her delicious ass swallow up all that hard cock, you can't help but smack it, greedily grabbing a handful of flesh before letting your palm fly again, marking up both pale cheeks with these beautiful red handprints. Hard, repeatedly, every harsh impact jostles those reddened cheeks as she takes your rapid thrusts into that impossibly tight asshole, clenching around after each smack to the sore flesh. 

"Make it hurt, make my ass fucking sting, please," she demands so desperately, and it only takes a few more harsh slaps to leave her completely incoherent. 

You pound into Yeseo with such reckless abandon until your carnal desires take over. Those tender cheeks bounce hypnotically, the rhythm of your hips in sync with every single slap across the delicate flesh. “Baby—fuck, this ass feels incredible. Makes my cock feel so goddamn good.” You're relentless—not just because you can’t help yourself, but because she can’t stop letting out the most pathetic little whimpers that cry for more. 

Your pace picks right up, so frantic, each slam deep enough to send those soft cheeks rippling, every last thrust filling her up so nicely. What’s even better is the beautiful red tint spreading across that backside, and the delicious sound of your palm hitting flesh—again, and again, and again. 

"Ah—fuck, shit, right there, oh my fucking god—" It's impossible to stop looking at this wrecked little hole as Yeseo takes your dick without mercy, earning every bit of the relentless stretch she begs for. Your vigorous thrusts get you so worked up, that you pull out and spread that reddened ass just to savor the view, gaping so beautifully and desperate to get full again—

Yeseo practically sobs when you shove your hard cock all the way back in balls fucking deep, which makes her bite down on the sheets, as if there's anything that'll muffle her screams when you're fucking her this hard.

"So good, so fucking good, your cock is fucking perfect and I don't ever want it to leave my ass," Yeseo cries out into the mattress, not making the slightest attempt to remain composed anymore. The poor bed absorbs every creak and slam, the whole frame shaking under your forceful thrusts that threaten to collapse the whole thing.

And Yeseo is right there, telling you how fucking good your cock is, that small body all yours to use how you please. Without hesitation, you keep giving her what she wants, keep giving this tight little asshole the pummeling it deserves—just listening to the squeal in her voice as you pound her the way that she absolutely desires it.

So there's no reason to stop when she's clearly aching for more, unable to get enough of how easily your cock tears her to pieces with every single thrust. All she can do is brace for the next one when your shaft hits so fucking deep—and then you crash down all your weight on top of her tiny frame, pinning her flat against the bed. so your cock somehow plunges even deeper into her asshole.

“F-fuck!” You reach such depths Yeseo could never hit with any toy, and she takes it all, face down, with unwavering lust that powers the motions of your hips until it's a struggle for either of you to think straight.

"Baby, this ass—I'd ruin my whole fucking career for this ass," you pant out through uneven breaths, continuing the dizzying pace that has no right feeling this good, pumping into her with every last thing you’ve got until it all becomes a blur. 

Yeseo, she’s clenching so fucking tight that each thrust might be your last, your hips every bit merciless, crashing against the soft flesh of her perfect ass to gather up the most desperate cries. 

"Fuck, that’s just what I want, so deep inside me,“ she struggles to say, downright delirious, and you're not far off, unsure how much more you can take of this, your balls feeling so tight as you pound and pound into that warm hole. In fact, you can tell there's no sense in even holding it in at this point, gathering up that final bit of momentum, making every single thrust count before you feel that release boiling up—

At the last possible second you pull out, eyes focused intently on her ruined little asshole that gapes so perfectly before Yeseo follows you off the bed and onto the floor. She drops to her knees, back against the side of the mattress and stares expectantly, while you aim inches away toward her beautiful, sweat-covered face, furiously stroking. 

Your hand tangles up in her hair, giving a hard tug that forces her chin up. It's not the pleasure that brings you closer to the brink, it's the sight of her doe-eyed stare, all this innocence and sin rolled together that begs for your load without saying a word. 

Yeseo gazes up with her lips open, tongue lolling out, so beautifully obedient, waiting for you to unload. "Go on, baby—fucking explode all over this pretty fucking face," Yeseo urges, and it's the way she looks at you, that mesmerizing, seductive eye contact that you can’t take it any longer. 

In an instant, your release hits, with all this built-up tension that just empties out with a huge shot of your load streaking across the bridge of her nose, coating those cute cheeks. Yeseo doesn't even flinch as it splatters across her features, hot and thick, all the way up to her forehead, eyes so bright with this lewd, shameless gaze as you glaze her.

You spill everything from your balls like you’ve gone weeks without release, groaning as you shoot more massive streaks everywhere, even some getting caught in her lashes. This thick trail drips down to her lips as she just opens her mouth and lets it fall onto her hungry little tongue, a taste she’s been dying for. 

She’s never looked so good. 

After the last drop hits her mouth, it's already dripping down her chin, this pretty, porcelain skin painted so vividly. Yeseo’s a gorgeous mess, and you keep these weak pumps going, pumping it all out to ensure she’s covered as can be before her tongue collects your load settling around her messy lips, returning back to that cum-stained smile.

"So fucking good, you taste even better than I thought.” 

And then you nearly topple over when she sucks at the tip until you're cleaned off, making sure every drop is drained. Yeseo holds your hips to keep you still, lips tight around your sensitive cockhead, looking so goddamn gorgeous with your load all over that face.

“Jesus, fuck—“ you say, feeling lightheaded, the impact of your orgasm still hitting like a train. Yeseo just smiles through it all, such a perfect image that you'll never get out of your head. 

The bed beside you has never looked so welcoming, and while you recover, you hear a click and shuffling next to you. But you know what it is by this point, a new set of pictures with Yeseo’s face fucking glazed, ready to be sent to whoever wants to pad her bank account.

"I feel like I should get a cut now," you say with a tired smile, trying to catch your breath.

"Pounding my ass like that wasn't payment enough?" Yeseo fires back, but her tone is all soft and sweet as she saunters over, so much energy left in that perfect body compared to your spent state. "It's not my fault you cum so much..." 

"Isn't it exactly that? Weren't you begging me to cum inside you the first time?" 

"I think I liked you better when you were shy." Yeseo sticks her tongue out and giggles, disappearing into the bathroom. "I'm going to get cleaned up. And take more pictures while I'm at it."

By the time Yeseo returns from the bathroom, you're about ready to pass out, having fallen onto the pillows in total exhaustion. When your eyes open back up, she's inches away from your face, looking all clean and barefaced. "Are you really falling asleep like that without me?"

"You wore me out." 

"I did what?” she asks incredulously, head tilted in confusion. “You're the one who fucked me senseless. I can still feel how sore my ass is when I sit down..." 

"Hey, you asked for that. Also like…twenty other things." 

"Guilty. Guess I’m a little greedy.” 

With a content sigh, Yeseo throws an arm and leg over, cuddling up right against you. You're too tired to even move, while this bubbly girl seems she could go the rest of the night. But maybe you're not entirely worn out as her perfect little body presses up against your chest, those sweet lips pouting, looking so irresistibly delicious. And before you fall asleep, you need to have just one more taste of those lips.

[peachesofteal]

Simple Math / Part Seven

Simple Math masterlist

Ghost/Soap/female reader 4.8k words - AO3 Warnings-tags: 18+ MDNI. Brief suggestive content, sex dream. Mentions of domestic violence, stalking. Hospital setting, nurse!reader. Feelings of fear, anxiety. Mentions of stress and weight loss. Soft dads. Little bit of flirting. Simon is... Simon. You get caught in a spell.

Johnny knows this is a dream. 

It’s an odd thing, to be conscious of it, to know you’re dreaming but still unable to control your actions. It’s like watching a movie of yourself, but also being yourself, directing your body without having a say in what it’s doing. 

He knows this is a dream, because you’re in it. You’re in their home, in one of Simon’s oversized sweatshirts, boy shorts rucked up over the little lightning bolts that arc across your hips, the underside of your cheeks. You’re smiling at him too, like you belong in there, like it’s yours too, and his heart swells, growing to a preposterous size.

“There’s my bunny.” He pulls you into his chest, mouthing up your neck and over your jaw. Your skin tastes like sugar, and when he gets to your lips, his hands shift, sliding down your back to grab two fistfuls of your ass with a groan. “Missed ye.” 

“We missed you too.” His fingers trace the edge of your panty line, barely dipping into where you drip for him. “Come to bed, Si’s waiting.” You whisper, stifling a moan. 

“Johnny.” Simon calls him, too loudly. He wants to hiss, snap at him about not waking the baby. “Johnny!”

His eyes blink open. White ceiling stares back at him, and he turns his head, finding Simon with a bemused look on his face. 

“I was havin’ a great dream.” Johnny grumbles, latching onto him. Simon scoots closer, lifting the back of his hand to his lips with a secretive smile, dotting kisses down to his wrist. 

“I know.” 

 “- and he has access privileges, as long he’s not interfering with care, he’s allowed to be in the room whenever he deems fit. Obviously, in cases where he shouldn’t be, like burn debridement, he’s fine with stepping out, but you should expect him to sleep here.” The nurse nods, nervously peeking over your shoulder at Simon, who’s lurking in the hallway, staring through the glass at the transport techs getting Johnny settled in his room. You catch her eyes, motioning to redirect her attention, and she mumbles a meek apology. “They have a daughter, who Johnny has been mostly separated from since he got here, and he’s hoping to see her often, since she’ll be allowed to visit more freely now. I told him it wouldn’t be a problem.”

“Okay.” Her toes tap against linoleum, weight shifting from foot to foot, and you resist the urge to sprint back to her boss and demand someone else. Fuck. Why does Nora have to be on maternity leave? 

“This is my favorite patient.” You warn her instead, dropping your voice low, pitching it brazenly serious. “I don’t ever want to see him back upstairs again, and that’s going to depend a lot on you.”

“Okay, okay.” Her work phone rings, and you jerk your head in dismissal, not quite finished, but not seeing a need to continue to harangue her, either.

Simon glances at you from down the hall, head turning once you’re alone. He doesn’t speak, doesn’t call to you, or say your name, but you’re helpless to the magnetic yank of his presence, a beam of gravity dragging you closer until you’re shoulder to shoulder, looking into Johnny’s room. He’s asleep, dark lashes feathered against his cheeks, blissed out and nearly snoring. “This will be great.” You say quietly. “He can see Penny almost as much as he wants down here. There are far less restrictions, and he’s doing so well, there’s nothing to worry about it.” He doesn’t say anything, just watches you with the x-ray vision that peels you open. Like he’s digging around in your head again.

“D’you have a minute?” You blink at him, graceful words dried out and missing.

“Uh, I… yeah, I’m technically off now so. Sure?”

“Have a tea with me? I’ll meet you outside the café, on the patio. Ten minutes alright?” Have a… have a tea with him? 

His eyes are heavy. They’re lasered, locked onto yours, brows knitted together in something soft, some form of emotion that you don’t understand, framing his face above the mask. How can you say no? 

“Okay, sure. Ten minutes.” You try to hide how your hands shake, tucking fingernail to palm, squeezing tight.

It doesn’t escape him.

You grow more afraid with each day, that nothing does.

The paper cup cradled in Simon’s outstretched grip is like every other paper cup you’ve seen before, drank from a thousand times, with steam wafting from its rim and aromatics spilling out into the air. “Sorry.” You blurt, reaching. His fingers brush against yours, warm contact momentarily stunning you. ‘Thanks.” You lift the tea to your nose, inhaling deeply.

Irish breakfast. With milk. Your favorite. 

“How do you know what tea I drink?” You don’t mean for it to sound so suspicious, or aggressive, but it does. It’s nearly accusatory, but doesn’t affect him. He merely shrugs in response.

“I pay attention.” An engine turns over in the carpark, a small car sweeping across the lot as it turns out onto the street. You watch, feigning mild interest, trying to get a closer look at the driver without appearing too fixated. “So.” He sips, and then removes the lid, vapor rising from the top in a delicate little dance. “How long have you been at Addenbrooke’s?”

“A few years.” The answer is effortlessly supplied, like you’re under a spell. Your eyes go round. What are you doing? Crow’s feet crinkle at the corners of his own, and you manage a shaky smile.

“What brought you across the pond?” He jokes, velvet, soothing lilt in his voice.

“Work.” It’s easy to lie about this, the fabrication usually used in casual conversation almost every day with patients and new coworkers, people who are interested in you being from somewhere else, having a different accent, different education, customs, the whole lot. His jaw moves behind the mask, and before he can push the question further, you rush out your own interruption. “Simon, I want… I want to talk to you about something.”

“Sure.” He nods. “What’s on your mind?”

“It’s… the other night Johnny said something about,” Your face is nearly scalding, embarrassment laden lump stuck in the back of your throat. “about you and him, and… me, I guess…” you trail off, eyes darting down into the tea.

“Go on?”

“He said that you guys think I’m special, and you- you said-“

“That we’re here for you.” He finishes, nonchalant.

“Right.” You breathe a little easier, knowing he knows what you’re talking about, words picking up steam. “I want you to know that it’s totally normal to feel this way. It happens a lot, you know. Patients and, or their family members, loved ones, they get attached. This affection starts to happen towards a member of the care team because we become that person who… provides care, twenty-four seven. So, you and… and Johnny, feeling like you have this attachment towards me, it’s very normal. Not a big deal.” You finish in one big breath, cutting your ramble short. His cheeks swell behind the fabric, like he’s smiling, eyes squinting again.

“That’s not what this is.” That’s not… what this is? What does that mean? 

“What?”

“Transference. That’s not what is happening here.”

“How do you…”

“I’ve had years of therapy.” He sighs. “Are you uncomfortable?” Say yes, the girl in your head screams. Tell him you need it all to stop. That you don’t like them, that it’s inappropriate. You know how this will end. 

“No.” You don’t know why you don’t acquiesce to your own good sense, why you ignore the very clear boundaries and rules that have kept you alive this long.

“Bunny, I need you tell me, honestly, if you are uncomfortable.” He levels you with an intense look, seriousness bleeding from his irises to yours. You press your palms flat on the table, quelling their trembling.

“It’s not… it’s not you. Or Johnny.” You whisper, eyes slipping shut. It’s easier that way, to just close them, to hide. To pretend you’re somewhere else, to block everything out.

What the fuck are you doing right now? Your brain screams, but your heart wails.

What is it like, to be loved like that? To be known like that? To be held in someone's heart, cherished and protected? 

“Sweetheart,” Simon’s voice is low, calming, and when you don’t answer, one of his hands folds over yours. “are you with me?”

“Yes.” You peek at him, and then fully let yourself look around, steadying the rancid fear that permeates through your body. “Sorry.”

“You don’t need to apologize.” He hums, hand still over yours. It’s warm, and broad, big thumb stroking a slow circle into your skin. “Is today your Friday?” You nod.

“It is, yeah. I’m… I’m looking forward to catching up on some sleep.” He straightens in the chair, shoulders and torso so unbelievably wide, like a long forgotten mythological god. Or the trunk of a massive tree.

“Will you have dinner with us, tonight?” The last of the orange red dawn spills over the crest of the buildings, and the world spins, cold sweat breaking out down your back. 

“What?”

“Dinner, with us. I’m picking up takeaway for Johnny from his favorite place as a celebration, for graduating the ICU. We’d love to spend some time with you. Get to know you, if that’s alright.”

“Oh, I…” Say no, you have to say no, shut this down. It’s too much risk. 

“No pressure. Just, hanging out, talking. As friends, if you like.” Butterflies thrash in your stomach so violently your knees bounce, and your heart leaps, pitching itself off a cliff like it wants to die.

“Okay.”

“Great. I can pick you u-“

“No! No, I’m fine. I have some errands to run after I get up for the day so, I’ll just meet you here.” It will be just like going to work. No harm, no foul. You can hang out with them, and go home, just like you’re at work. It doesn’t mean anything. It won’t. 

You barely sleep. You pace, you nap, you thumb through endless craigslist listings in faraway cities for apartments, you read. You take the long way through the city back to your flat and slowly sift through pieces of your life that you want to keep. Your quilt from home, that’s been tucked away on a shelf. A sentimental trinket that belonged to your mom, also hidden in a drawer. These things that can be removed, without being noticed.

Not that it matters.

He hasn’t been here. Not since the sick shit he pulled with your underwear. It makes you curious when you inspect the undisturbed tape on the back side of the door, the light dusting of baking powder on the bedroom carpet, but not surprised.

It’s not unlike him, to make himself known and then suddenly disappear, the endless mind games partially intentional, and partially something not even he can control.

After all, duty calls.

He could still be in the city. He could still be watching. You don’t know anything for sure.

“Three things you cannot outrun in this world, babe. Death, taxes, and… me.” You mumble it to yourself, the same words that live in your head, in his voice, repeated, pulling a pair of scrubs from your dresser.

But you had been running, and still had your life to show for it.

It doesn’t matter, you know how this will end. 

You’ve changed your clothes five times. You hem and haw in front of the mirror, trying not to look too closely at any one piece of yourself, switching shirt and pant combos until you finally settle on your usual, a pair of jeans and a long sleeve shirt. They’re high waisted, because low rise is not even within the realm of possibility for your hips, and you appreciate how they fit, even if they may sit a little loose right now, given your recent stress levels.

You look fine, you decide. You look professional. You don’t really look attractive, in any way, but the scars on your torso are hidden, and with a little bit of make-up, you think you look presentable. At the very least, you don’t look like you’re half asleep, which is exactly how you feel.

Not like it matters, you chide. This isn’t a thing; it’s just hanging out. You’re going to put an end to this entire charade, tonight.

The train is quiet, and you’re extra watchful. Every face, every movement is logged, every jacket or hat or hood is inspected. Posture, skin tone, height, of every person you pass or see is tabulated and run through your mind. Your brain, a supercomputer in its own right, does it all, seamlessly. It wants to protect you, it keeps you on guard, it can look at a crowd of twenty people all facing the opposite direction and locate a potential threat, just by the shape of the shoulders.

You don’t see him, you don’t feel him, your skin doesn’t prickle, and you let the lack thereof bring you peace, if only for a few moments.

Johnny’s floor is bustling. You wave hi to those you know, checking in with his nurse for a moment, letting her know you’ll be hanging out for a bit. She doesn’t even bat an eye, thankfully, and you try to settle yourself as you turn down the hall.

You’re not prepared for what you find when you knock on his door and slide it open, breath catching for a moment, and you scramble to cover your initial balk.

Their daughter is here. She’s cuddled up on Johnny’s good side, the one without the burnt tissue or recovering surgical wound. She’s asleep, wearing a black onesie covered in skulls, her head tipped back and mouth open, chubby cheeks and sweet little face perfectly content. She’s got her entire fist wrapped around one of Johnny’s fingers, holding it right under her chin like she’s afraid he might vanish while her eyes are closed. “Hey, bun.” Johnny whispers, smiling so wide, two fingers stroking through the wispy curls on top of her head. “We snuck in a visitor tonight.”

“I see.” Your heart trembles.

“Fell asleep right away, next to her Da. Been missin’ him these past few nights.” Simon chuckles, patting Johnny’s leg gently, affectionately. There’s a bag of take out on the table behind him, as well as what looks like an overnight bag, a purple duffel stuffed full. “Price is on his way to pick her up.” Penny gurgles, eyes blinking open in a sleepy daze like she knew they were talking about her.

“Ye’re alright, sh-shh, wee lamb.” Johnny coos. She’s half soothed by his words, but the lights in the room are far too bright, and her small noises waver into a cry, frustrated and tired. He tries move her, cradler her higher up his chest, but his face falls with pain, and Simon swoops in, pulling her into his arms. “Bunny, could ye-“

“Would you-“ They both try to ask at once, and you flounder once you realize the intention, a cranky, sleepy Penelope being pushed into your arms.

“I-“ she wails, interrupting you, bending you to her will without fuss, and you hold her closer, rocking side to side, humming above her ear. Just like the NICU, like a patient, like your stint in L&D, it’s fine, it’s-

“Sorry, sweetheart.” Not fine. It’s not fine. Heat burns in your belly. He can’t call you that, not when you’re holding their baby. “Thank you.” Simon says over his shoulder. He’s moving Johnny, lowering the bed slightly to help reposition him, and they speak quietly to one another, voices low enough you can’t make out any of the words.

“I can help you with him, if you want.” He waves you off.

“I need the practice, won’t have you around all the time anymore, yeah? And once he gets home…”

“Ach. ‘m not paralyzed. Jus’ uncomfortable.” Johnny glowers, pouting, and you roll your eyes, rhythm steady, gently bouncing, letting Penny cuddle into your chest, snuggling her face against your arm and side. She’s beautiful, precious and sweet, cooing herself back into a light slumber, and you smile despite yourself, still rocking after her eyes start to shut. “Knew she’d like ye.” He says softly, and you glance up, surprised by the intensity of their focus, heavy gazes fixed on you.

“She’s very sweet.” Your lips twist.

“She is.” Simon agrees. “We were happy to get her some time with her Da. Good for both of ‘em.” His fingers find Johnny’s cheek, and then their hands meet, a palm pressed to lips, a whispered a I love you. 

An intimate moment, as you stand there with their baby in your arms.

“Alright, now that ye’ve done the hard work by gettin’ her back down,” Johnny gestures, urging you to step forward, and you carefully place her back in his arms. For a moment, your faces are level, and you get caught in his eyes, nerves strung so tight they could be a tightrope. “I’ve got her.” Weeks in the hospital, and he still smells like cedar and oranges, woodsy citrus that envelopes you, your lashes fluttering on the inhale. “She likes ye.” He murmurs, breath warm and tickling over your cheek.

“Well, she’s...” you straighten, hands smoothing down the front of your top. They’re moist, somehow, and you tuck them behind your back. “She’s a good judge of character, I guess.” Simon’s phone vibrates, Johnny’s plush smile turning dour, and he sighs.

“Okay baby girl. It’s time.” She cries a little, readjusting to Simon’s hold, and he slings the purple duffel over his shoulder, promising to be right back. Johnny nods, eyes downcast, and his face twists once the door shuts, cheeks turning red, staccato, hiccupped breaths coming fast.

“Hey.” You whisper. “Hey, Johnny.” The chair at his bedside creaks under you, and you lean forward, fingertips lightly caressing the tape residue that still sticks to his skin. You should clean that off. 

“’m alright.” His shoulders roll, chin jutting out, brilliant blue gleam in his eyes returning, like storm clouds rolling off after rain. He’s silent for a beat, pinky finger folding over yours. “How was yer day?”

“Oh, it was… fine.”

“Simon said ye were goin’ to catch up on some sleep?”

“Yeah, I didn’t.” You laugh, and he smiles. “I feel okay though. Still awake at least.”

“I’m glad… ye came. I’m sorry if the other night, I was too… forward.”

“That’s okay. You’re just… so flirty, I don’t even know what to do with myself.” You tease, expecting to get a lighthearted quip in response, or a laugh, but he gives you neither, only a serious, sympathetic expression.

“I didnae mean to make ye uncomfortable. Felt terrible, when ye ran off, I-“

“I’m fine, Johnny. You… you didn’t. I mean, it was just… confusing, this is… this is a lot.” He nods.

“I know it is.”

“And you don’t even know me.” His brow creases, focus narrowed in so tightly on you, white walls, white hospital blanket, white everything falling away in a spiral of color.

“I know ye better than ye might think." He cracks a smile. "We want to, if ye’d let us.” No, you don’t. You almost say it. Almost promise him that knowing you would be the stuff of their nightmares, that they have no idea what they’re trying to bite into, or bite off, a near guarantee that it would be than they could chew.

“Well, no harm in making new friends, right?” You entreat weakly, and his eyes flash, ethos of an entire life that you have no knowledge of slipping through, and the dark severity rumbling in his gaze sends a shiver down your spine.

“Aye, bun. Especially when they look like ye in a pair of jeans.” 

Dinner is an idyllic affair. Johnny’s favorite takeaway turns out, is Indian, like yours, and the three of you talk for hours, trading bites back and forth, laughing and listening to stories, discovering little bits and pieces about their lives while running interference on personal questions about yourself, allowing them to dip in skin deep, skimming off the top but never getting further. They tell you about themselves, Penelope, their jobs, how they met, and Johnny confides in you about his sketchbook collection, pages upon pages of charcoal and pencil line work, portraits of Simon and Pen covering each page, landscapes, and the occasional cartoon. Your spine eventually starts to wilt, muscles liquifying into goo that can barely hold you upright, and you curl up in the armchair, chin on your palm, listening to the ebb and flow of their voices as they tell you a particular story about how they came to find their current home, a near slapstick comedy about an interaction with the previous owner. Their voices soothe your restless mind, wrap you in a cozy embrace that feels so safe, so comfortable that you can’t fight the languid, siren call of sleep, eyes drooping into darkness, drifting away on their melodies, content and too tired to rationally put together what’s happening. At some point, something covers you up, knit warmth that is tucked in around your shoulders, your feet, a tender touch on your neck and cheek. A whisper of affection soothes the unease that lurks in the background of it all, and you fall into it lazily, farther into the hold of sleep, something your brain and body are desperate for.

When the lights go dim, you don’t even realize, already lost to the sand of slumber.

Around midnight, you wake with a start. Your heart is racing, triple timing in your chest, and you squint in the dark, trying to parse together where you are, what happened.

Oh no. Oh god, did you fall asleep on them? Did you fall asleep in Johnny’s room? 

Simon calls your name. He’s settled in a recliner, head turned your direction, mellow light from the little lamp spilling across his features. “Are you alright?” Your mouth is dry, the web of sleep that holds you in suspension finally starting to wane, fuzzy clouds in your head trying to clear without much luck.  

“How long was I out?”

“Four hours.”

“I’m so sorry.” He shakes his head.

“Wanted to let you sleep. I know you were tired, and Johnny was out almost immediately after you.”

“Th-thanks.” Your back groans, muscle and bone grinding together, stiff from sleeping in a cramped position for hours, and you’re surprisingly unsteady on your feet. Simon’s out of his chair in a second, turning around the end of Johnny’s bed to offer you a hand, his other lightly resting between your shoulder blades.

“Easy.”

“Sorry… just… think ‘m more tired than I realized.” It’s dark, and you’re disorientated, woozy, tongue stuck to the roof of your mouth, limbs and lids still heavy and desperate to fall back asleep.

“I’ll drive you home.” His keys jingle, and you know you should reject him, refute this presumption, push him off, but you can’t string the right words together in your mind, can’t bring yourself to truculently pull away.

So, you don’t. And to your surprise, your shock, it feels… nice. You let him open the door for you, get you settled, you listen to his music on the way, city flying past outside the window, quiet hour of the night crawling by. You let him help you out of the car when you pull up to the curb, and when he asks if he can walk you up, your rational pugnacity is nowhere to be found.

“This is me.” You gesture to the door, fumbling in your wallet for your keycard.

“How long have you been in the hotel?”

“Oh, not long. Reno just started so…” His head turns, surveilling the hallway. You’re in an end room, far from the elevator but close to the stairs, as requested, and there’s a camera that sits on the ceiling, green dot consistently blinking. He glances at it, then back to you, head tilted.

“Are you safe here?” The world goes cold. Your stomach roils, blood draining from your face, and you try to hold yourself steady, mind turning over a million times. You’re overreacting. He’s just asking in a general sense. He doesn’t know. He couldn’t. Breathe. Deep breath. 

“I uh, yeah. It’s got a deadbolt.” Along with a door stop alarm, and a security bar. He steps closer, so close that you can smell him, fresh laundry and musk, something spicy lingering there, something dark and enchanting.

“Are you in trouble, little bunny?” You’re in his shadow, beneath the stretch of a mountain, shielded by it, by a monolith so large it could blot out the sun. It overwhelms you, slows the racing pace of your mind, and you try to sort through the merry go round of feelings that are all trying to push their way out of your mouth.

You’ve never felt this. Never felt this… desire, to entrust someone with your life. Never felt this… attraction, this hold that the two of them have on you.

It makes you want to trust them. Makes you want to lay it all out and beg them to help you. Makes you want to close your eyes and leap, praying they’ll catch you.

It’s wicked. It’s dangerous. It’s a fool’s errand.

It’s unfair. 

“No.” You whisper. You can’t look at him, and time slows in the silence, your anxiety piquing. Of course, he would assume something is wrong, after witnessing the panic attack. Don’t read too far into it. 

“But you wouldn’t tell me if you were, would you?” He’s pragmatic, yet still kind, watching you with intent. It doesn’t allay any of the stress that’s building up the back of your throat and closing it, cutting you off from the oxygen you desperately need.

After an eon, he sighs.

“Okay, sweetheart. You can keep your secrets. For now.” You choke. 

“I… I should probably-“ you jerk your head towards the door, half turning away to swipe your keycard.

“Alright.” He moves carefully, dipping low, and you stand immobilized, confused and quivering as his cloth covered mouth presses a slow kiss to the top of your head. It’s like he’s bewitched you, cursed you, and you can’t do anything but stand there, stunned. “Thanks for coming tonight.” You’re a deer in headlights, a rabbit in a scope.

“Simon.” His name is the only thing you know right now, and it comes out reedy, almost a squeak.

“Get some rest. We’ll text you tomorrow.” He pushes the door wide, arm snaked behind your shoulders, and when you don’t move, he urges you forward, an encouraging hand on the small of your back. Your feet blindly stumble through the motions, searching for the light switch, for your sanity. “Goodnight, bun.” He hums, and the door clicks shut, leaving you alone, staring at the beige-yellow paint on the wall.

The afternoon trains are packed. It makes your skin crawl, not because you dislike busy or hectic places, but because there are too many eyes. You force your head to stay up, casually scrolling past the faces that are turned every which way, keeping your back to a corner or window as often as possible. You’re not sure you even needed to take this route, the one where you loop around and change trains twice, but… old habits die hard.

You’re lighter today, mentally. It’s in your steps on the stairs, the way you tilt your face up to the sun, how you bounce and bob a little along to the rhythm in your headphones.

You try not to read into it, too much. You tell yourself it has nothing to do with the good morning text messages from Johnny and Simon, or the hilarious back and forth between them after Simon sent a god-awful joke to the group chat. It has nothing to do with the heat that spreads through your fingers to toes when you think about Simon last night, kissing your forehead.

You slip inside your apartment, popping your headphones free, glancing at the tape and the door jam, before setting your bag on the counter. You idly sort through some mail you left out the other day. Junk, junk, junk, nothing taxing or important, nothing work related or-

A shadow moves. It flickers against the wall by your bedroom, growing larger, stalking closer to the kitchen, to where you stand, frozen, heart pounding in your ears. 

This can’t be real. This can’t be happening. 

“Hey there, sugar.” He croons, the thick, Texas accent unmistakable, and you breathe his name in horror.

“Phillip.”

[lulunothulu]

“So you think I’m hot?” Pt. 4 (finale?)

Tyler Owens x Reader

Summary: A week after you’ve completely healed, you’re on your way to go chase a tornado with Kate and Javi when Tyler stops you. Seems like you’re owed something.

Content: flirting, FLUFF, FINALLY KISSING THIS MAN

A/N: Imagine this is the face he makes after you guys finally kiss and Boone is hyping him up 😭 brb gonna daydream about kissing him.

It had been a week since Tyler almost kissed you in your hotel room. And every day since then, he had been coming to your room and bringing you food, changing your bandage, and just spending time with you.

The more time you spend with him, made you realize that you really liked him. You could feel yourself fall for him and you didn’t mind it.

He was sweet, funny, and thoughtful.

You told him you were craving a cookie? The next day he’d have a dozen cookies for you. You wanted to go for a walk? He’d help you walk around on your crutches—then with a cane—until you got tired and he’d carry you back to your room. He even went with you to get the stitches removed, holding your hand when you were in pain and scared.

Hell, he even helped room service change your bedsheets to keep things fresh.

Never once did he try to kiss you. And by God, did you desperately want him to.

But no, he was a perfect gentleman, waiting until the week was up—and you were back to normal.

Now, you were getting the truck ready to get some last minute data on a tornado a few miles away. You’re back to everyone, Kate and Javi talking in front of the truck.

“I told you, we should go east,” Kate tells Javi.

“Yeah but what if you’re wrong?” Javi argues.

You pop your head out of the truck and yell, “Javi, she’s never wrong! Get your head out of your ass!”

“See, this is why I missed her,” Kate smiles.

“Of course you would,” Javi starts, rolling his eyes. “You always gotta team up on me.”

“You love us!” You say.

Javi looks past you before smiling. “Not as much as the cowboy.”

You turn to see what Javi was looking at to see Tyler jogging toward you, Boone and Lilly behind him.

You close the door to the truck and cross your arms over your chest, smiling faintly.

“Well, looks like you’re all better,” Tyler smiles when he reaches you. “I wonder who was your nurse, I’d love to thank them.”

You shake your head before placing your hands on your hips. “That would be you, dumbass.”

His smile widens at the teasing name. “Oh shit, you’re right.”

“So are you guys gonna chase that tornado a few miles east?” You ask.

“We were planning on it,” he tells you.

“Tyler has to do something first!” Boone says from behind.

You raise a brow before stepping closer to Tyler, a smile forming on your lips.

“Oh? And what’s that?”

Tyler hesitates, something you’d never seen him do. He scratches the back of his neck before taking a step closer to you.

“It’s been a week,” he starts.

“Yeah?” You smile, stepping even closer.

“And you’re all healed,” he continues, also taking another step closer, making you two touch chests.

“And?” You tease, wrapping your arms around his neck, standing on your tiptoes.

He wraps his arms around your waist, pulling you as close and as tight as he can without hurting you.

“And I think we had a deal?” He says it as a question, almost daring you to say yes.

You glance over Tyler’s shoulder to find Boone and Lilly giving you the thumbs up with animated smiles. You chuckle at them before facing Tyler again. His eyes are expectant, waiting for your response.

“We did, didn’t we?” You softly agree.

Tyler nods, not wanting to say anything and holding his breath.

You pull him closer, practically a centimeter away. His breathing tickles the top of your lip, making you smile.

“So then what’re you waiting for?” You whisper, lips softly brushing his.

Tyler doesn’t answer. Instead, he presses his lips to yours, his arms wrapping around you so tightly you almost loose your breath.

His lips are soft and warm against yours. They move, searching and exploring yours and you make sure to match them. Your body is warm, it was already fairly hot out, but now? It was burning in the best way possible.

One of Tyler’s hand moves from your waist to the back of your head and you can’t help but smile into the kiss.

His tongue pushes past yours, wrestling to taste every inch of your mouth before finally settling back and enjoying the taste.

“Okay, that’s enough,” you hear Javi gag.

You and Tyler pull away, noses red and smiles plastered on your faces. You can’t stop smiling and you don’t want to either. You would kiss him for the rest of the day if you could.

“I’ll see you later?” Tyler asks breathlessly.

“Definitely,” you respond. “You know my room number.”

“I meant at the tornado sighting, but that definitely works too,” he smiles.

“Alright lover boy,” Javi says, pulling your arm before hoisting you onto his shoulders. “We gotta go get that tornado, Y/N.”

As Javi turns and walks you to the truck, you see Boone slapping and high fiving Tyler. “You finally did it my man!”

“I can’t believe you finally kissed her,” Lilly adds.

But all Tyler can do is beam at you.

He was definitely hot.

A/N: I felt like this was so short 😭 but I think I closed this out as much as I could. I have more Tyler x Reader fics coming (maybe I’ll keep the same couple? Let me know!!) Anyway, thank you for reading!! Check out my Masterlist for more! Also please feel free to leave me requests, my brain is slowly losing ideas 😂

Previous parts: PART 1, PART 2, PART 3

[luveline]

is there any way we could get badass!reader x spencer? except he’s injured this time? how does she react?

tysm ♡ cw hospital / gunshot wounds. 1.1k

"You have to let me see him." 

"It's family only," the nurse says, shrugging sympathetically. 

You grit your teeth. "That's what I'm telling you, I am his family. We've been together for four months." 

"Sorry. Unless you're blood related or his next of kin, I can't let you." 

"Spencer's next of kin is in a sanitarium in Las Vegas. I don't understand why you can't let me see him." You're trying not to shout at her, rage trembling in your aching fingers. "I understand that it's night time, and that he was admitted alone, but he was shot, he's not sick, and I can't make him worse. Please. You have to let me see him." 

When begging doesn't work, you get mean. You'd be ashamed to admit you flashed your badge if it weren't for the fact that you have no shame when it comes to Spencer. Face flushed with heat from a good twenty minutes yelling, a different nurse escorts you to Spencer's room. 

"I expect my colleagues will be arriving soon," you say. "And I expect they'll be met with less resistance." 

The nurse smiles at you, as fake as they come, but you don't deserve a real one. You don't care. Breaking rules and bending policies means nothing to you while Spencer's laying alone in a hospital bed. 

His heart monitor beeps steadily. He's sleeping, waxy face crushed sideways into a limp pillow, his stomach a lump under the sheets where he's been wrapped. He was alone when it happened —no one, BAU or otherwise, knows who did it or why. The hospital didn't know who Spencer was until he woke up after surgery and told them himself. 

And you'd been sitting at home feeling sorry for yourself (and vaguely irritated) because he didn't answer your text that morning. 

It's not hard being vulnerable with Spencer. He's your widely known soft spot, and you're unashamed. But it felt like a mistake, constantly checking to see if he'd answered your text. Good morning, I know we're supposed to see each other tomorrow but do you want to come over and watch movies tonight? Let me know had felt like I'm pathetic and in love with you and my day revolves around when you're free.

None of that matters now. In fact, it's all embarrassingly small. 

You creep up beside his bed and reach out tentatively. His hair falls out of his face with the barest of touches. He's had blood wiped poorly from his cheek, orangey streaks lining his jaw. His undereyes are dark like he hasn't eaten for days, his veins spider legs stark against his eyelids. 

You put your hand on his cheek, rubbing it lightly. "I'm sorry it took me so long," you say, leaning down to kiss his forehead.  

Spencer stirs, a groan rumbling from the centre of his chest. 

"I thought that was you," he mumbles, his fingers brushing your elbow. 

"When?" you ask. 

"You were yelling." 

Yeah, well. You need to be disruptive sometimes. "They wouldn't let me in." You're not a big crier, just seeing him like this, knowing he was alone and probably scared, it has tears pricking. "Spencer, I'm so sorry." 

"Hey." He clears his throat, your emotion starting him into wakefulness. "Hey, don't get upset. It's okay. It bounced off of me–" You groan and he laughs, though he grabs your elbow quickly after. "Ouch. Don't make me laugh." 

"I didn't say anything." You pet his face. He looks pretty even when he's in a bad way. Your chest is a pit. 

"It barely touched me. They said my feminine hips saved my life." 

"Stop trying to make me laugh," you say pleadingly. 

Spencer holds your gaze. "Stop looking so sad and I'll stop."

"Are you hurting?" you ask. You know you sound awful, a scared tone that he's never heard from you before, and you try to tamp it down as a lone tear breaks free, streaking down your cheek. "How's your pain? I can make them give you more–" 

"I know you can. I'm fine now you're here." 

You lean down to kiss the tip of his pert nose. Careful, you kiss his lips, enthused when he kisses up. "I'll take care of everything," you promise. 

The door opens behind you. You give Spencer a last squeeze and find Emily in the entrance with a bag pressed to her chest, her hair windblown, shocked with worry. 

"Spencer," she says, rushing forward to hug him. 

He's in a hospital bed and still insists on comforting her as he'd done you, arms threaded over her shoulders. "Hey. I'm fine." 

"Morgan and Garcia want to be here," she assures him, standing straight. "They're trying to keep the site clean. Spencer, what the hell happened?" 

You drag a chair to his bed and sit on his right. You don't take his hand, he doesn't offer it, but the longer his story goes, the closer you find yourself. "I didn't even realise they were following me," he's saying. Emily nods with Hotch on the phone, listening intently, repeating anything Hotch misses. 

You know you should be strong. Brave. You should be paying attention to his every word, ready to take the rains and solve the case, serve retribution against whoever it is that thought they could hurt him, but Spencer looks so tired. You can't imagine being anywhere that isn't his side right now. A blood bag fills at his side, a catheter runs under the bed, an IV line feeding pain medication and fluids into him mottled the skin on the inside of his wrist with bruise. Sometimes you have to stay put.  

Emily hugs you before she leaves. You hug back. 

"If I knew getting hurt would make you accept love from your friends, I would've done it sooner," Spencer says. 

"If you ever get hurt like this again, I'll never speak to you," you say, bringing his arm to your lips and pressing a kiss to the crook of his elbow. 

"Sorry for scaring you." 

You lay your cheek on his arm, looking up at him through your eyelashes. "That's okay. That's fine. Wasn't your fault." 

Spencer drops his chin to his chest. "Do I look bad from this angle?" 

"No. You look just as nice as you always do." Your throat burns with sincerity. You might cry again. 

Spencer nods like he's reading something else from what you've said. It's not that you'd meant to imply a double meaning, but he must see on your face how relieved you are, and how terrified you'd been. He brings his hand to your face, ignoring his cannula, to wipe the dried tears from your lashes. "You look pretty, too," he says. "Just don't cry anymore." 

[tinyluvs]

Can you do one where the reader is meeting Spencer's mom for the first time, idk if you've done this yet

i haven’t & i absolutely can !! tysm angel ♡ enjoy!

it's painfully obvious that spencer is ten times more nervous than you are, his fingers playing with yours in his lap, "spence, honey, we need to get out of the car at some point," you say softly, your other hand closing over his

"i know, just nervous," he mumbles, staring down at his lap, "never bought a girl to meet my mom," he admits, though you already know. he turns to face you with soft eyes and a shy smile

gently, you brush his hair back slightly, "i wouldn't be here if i didn't think it was right spence," leaning over the centre console, you kiss him quickly before grinning, "now come on, otherwise she's going to think we aren't coming!"

you hop out of the car before your boyfriend can respond, waving your arm in a hurry up motion as he takes far too long to round the car. spencer rolls his eyes playfully at you before snatching at your hand to lead you towards the building

silently he almost drags you through the reception to the elevator, excitement starting to replace the nervousness, "remember, her memory isn't the best som-" he starts to ramble when you're on the way up to the fourth floor, his hands planted on your shoulders

"spencer," you cut him off, wrapping your fingers around his wrists, "i know, it's going to be fine i promise you" you sway back and fourth slightly until his hands are slipping down your arms

the elevator doors ping open as spencer puffs out a long breath, "come on then, sweetheart," he hums, going straight back to dragging you, your legs moving twice as fast to keep up with him

"doctor reid!" a man smiles as he approaches, "your mom is expecting you, in fact this is all she has talked about for the past three days," he explains and you can physically see the relief flood through your boyfriend’s body

"she remembered?" he asks, getting confirmation when the man nods his head. you squeeze at spencer's hand slightly, your thumb stroking over his, "where is she?"

the man nods towards a hallway, "last time i saw her, she was in her room," he offers as he gets whisked away by a nurse

"that's my moms doctor," spencer says, actually walking alongside you and not three steps ahead of you, "i'm happy that she remembered though,"

as you turn a corner, you hum lightly in agreement, eyes drifting over the walls decorated with pictures, group outings and trips along with displays of in house activities. spencer gasps beside you, "mom!"

further down the hallway a woman is walking, her back turned to you and spencer but when he calls, she stops and turns. a moment of confusion passes over her eyes but it leaves as a smile spreads across her face

you let go of spencer's hand as you come to a stop, smiling to yourself as he engulfs her in a hug, his chin resting on her shoulder

"spencer," diana exclaims, hugging him back before putting her hands on his upper arms and holding him at arms length, "let me get a good look at you,"

your boyfriend shoots you a smile, which you return, "mom, look," he says, holding his arm out to you, "remember i told you i was bringing my girlfriend," he gestures for you to come closer, "mom this is-"

diana waves a dismissive hand at her son, "i know who this is, you talk about her all the time," she smiles at you when you gasp slightly, outstretched hand being ignored as she gives you a hug instead, her hand smoothing gently over your back

spencer stands beside you both, his eyes wide and sparkly while his mouth is hung slightly open in a silent gasp but his cheeks are a violent shade of red because of his mom's confession

you pout slightly at him before diana releases you, "it's so nice to finally meet you," you say as she looks over you with what you hope is an approving nod, "i've heard so much about you,"

"trust me when i say i've heard twice as much about you," she lowers her voice though spencer can definitely still hear her, "i approve," she concludes, nodding at spencer

"mom!" he shrieks as you giggle at him, "where were you going before we stopped you?" he rushes in an attempt to change the subject as his cheeks start to heat up all over again

diana rolls her eyes at his dramatics, "i was going to get a snack and a drink, do you want to come with?" she asks, both you and her looking at spencer for an answer

"if you don't mind,"

"come on then," she says, linking her arm around yours, leaving spencer to walk along behind you both, "they do the most fabulous cake here, i'll get you a slice," she pats at your arm as you begin to walk down the hallway

"oh yum, thank you" you say, never one to turn down a free slice of cake. behind your back spencer grabs at your hand, the angle slightly awkward but neither of you complain

your boyfriends mom hums thoughtfully, quickly drawing your attention back to her, "he's never, ever, bought a girl to meet me, you know," she says lightly

"i do,"

"i don't think he will ever bring another," she whispers, leaning towards you slightly. you look at her with a puzzled look, eyebrows furrowing across your forehead, "for him, you're the one,"

you gasp, "you think? i know he is for me"

diana scoffs, "i know," she corrects you, "the way he talks about you, oh to be young and in love-"

without meaning to, you tune her out, turning to look back at spencer, who tilts his head at you with confusion. you mouth i love you at him before pulling on his hand, dragging him around to your side

"what're you two talking about?" he asks, full of suspicion, looking at his mom with wide eyes. you chuckle when diana looks at him, tapping the side of her nose with her finger, "oh no," spencer sighs at her

"nothing bad," she defends herself, squeezing your arm gently. spencer hums, his thumb tapping against your hand, "yet, i've got the baby pictures out and ready in my room though”

"oh my god,"

thanks for reading! remember to like! reblog! and comment! i’ll give you a smooch if you do, ily!! send prompts to my ask box!

❥ spencer reid masterlist !!

[moonstarrr]

𝐀 𝐥𝐢𝐭𝐭𝐥𝐞 𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐥𝐲 𝐩𝐭.𝟐

𝐄𝐯𝐚𝐧 𝐁𝐮𝐜𝐤𝐥𝐞𝐲 𝐱 𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐠𝐧𝐚𝐧𝐭!𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: 𝐀𝐟𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐛𝐞𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐩𝐮𝐭 𝐨𝐧 𝐛𝐞𝐝 𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐭 𝐛𝐲 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐡𝐮𝐬𝐛𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐝𝐨𝐜𝐭𝐨𝐫, 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐫𝐞𝐟𝐮𝐬𝐞 𝐭𝐨 𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐛 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐬𝐞𝐧𝐝 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫𝐬𝐞𝐥𝐟 𝐢𝐧𝐭𝐨 𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐥𝐲 𝐥𝐚𝐛𝐨𝐫

𝐃𝐢𝐬𝐜𝐥𝐚𝐢𝐦𝐞𝐫 : 𝐏𝐋𝐄𝐀𝐒𝐄 𝐝𝐨 𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐩𝐨𝐬𝐭 𝐨𝐧 𝐚𝐧𝐲 𝐨𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫 𝐩𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐦 𝐨𝐫 𝐰𝐞𝐛𝐬𝐢𝐭𝐞 𝐡𝐨𝐰𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫 𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞𝐬 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐫𝐞𝐛𝐥𝐨𝐠𝐬 𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐰𝐞𝐥𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐞 :)

𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓

You hoped that the sounds of the machines beeping around you would have distracted you at some point but it was no use. Constant hours of pain and every hour a nurse coming to check you too see how much you have any improvements on dilation has become more and more annoying.

It was now midnight and the time to finally meet your baby still seemed so far away. You were laid on your side holding on too Evan’s hand as another contraction hit you. He wrapped his arms around you and leaned into to you rubbing your back slowly and giving you kisses on your forehead.

“There you go baby, it’s almost over” He said with pity tracing his voice. Evan hated seeing you in any kind of pain at all. He would want nothing more than to give you some kind of relief but even knowing that he wasn’t capable of that hurt him even more.

A deep sigh left your lips and you loosened your grip on your husband’s hands slightly. Tears filled your eyes. The pain became more and more unbearable.

You were already too far in to even have an epidural and it killed you.

“I can’t do this anymore” you say with your voice shaking as you look up at him.

“Yes you can you’re so close just a little while longer”

As you were about to try and turn on your back you heard a knock at the door . You look up at Evan and you both shared confused looks. You weren’t expecting anyone to come by and see you.

He walks over and opens the door and he lets in Maddie, Chimney, Hen, Bobby, Athena, and Eddie.

Maddie gave her brother a quick smile and quickly passed by him making him stumble a little bit and quickly made her way over to you, she didn’t waste any time by giving you a hug.

The rest of them followed behind her and each of them giving you hugs and smiles.

“I wasn’t expecting you guys here” you said with a smile.

“Well once Buck told us you were in labor we had to stop by and wish you good luck” Hen said . You looked at Buck and raised your eyebrows, you didn’t think he was gonna tell them when you went into labor you thought he was gonna surprise them after the fact.

Maddie sat on the edge of the bed and placed one hand on your knee and looked up at you her eyes full of excitement knowing that she will soon become an aunt.

“So how are you feeling love?” She asked

“The pain is terrible I just want it to be over” you say with a sigh.

“I know how you feel girlfriend bringing a whole child into the world isn’t easy and you want to know the worst part”.

You say up even more thinking she was gonna say that there was more pain to come.

“What?”

“They don’t have to experience any of this, ain’t it crazy” she said while pointing to all the men in the room. The room erupted with laughter.

After a couple minutes of conversation with everyone and jokes being said the nurse and doctor came in and told them to kindly exit the room because you had to start pushing. They waved goodbye to you and Evan wishing you guys luck.

As soon as they left that’s when things began to become more serious and fear took over you. You heard so many stories of things that have gone wrong during birth and you were praying for a smooth delivery.

“Evan I’m scared” you said while grabbing his shirt pulling him even closer to you . You didn’t want anyone close to you or anyone touching you if it wasn’t Evan. He was the only one that could provide you with comfort and stability during this time.

“Babe look at me I promise, you and baby are gonna be fine and nothing will go wrong just listen to doctors and I’ll be right here the whole time”. He says wrapping one of his arms around your shoulders and the other holding your hand.

He watches as they place your legs in stirrups. He feels his own self becoming anxious and excited but he tries his best to be the partner that you need.

“Okay on the next contraction you can push” the doctor says.

You look up at Evan and he looks back at you with pure love in his eyes. He nods his head at you and places a quick kiss on your cheek and whispers to you “you can do it”

When you start to feel the contraction you hunch forward and close your eyes. You hear the doctor counting but your drown it out only focusing on the sweet nothings Evan is whispering too you only for you to hear.

After 2 more pushes the sound of strong cries fill your ears and you open your eyes to see the doctor resting your baby girl on your chest. The nurses quickly try to clean her up, you look up to Evan and see the tears falling from his eyes and big smile on his face.

The baby you guys have been waiting for has finally made her presence and he couldn’t be happier.

You place your hand on her back and look down and take in her features and beauty. Evan placed his hand on top of yours and leaned his head on your taking in everything.

He couldn’t have been happier. It’s all he ever wanted.

[lundenloves]

simon ‘ghost’ riley x f!reader

you tell simon you’re pregnant with his third child.

no warnings | wc 700 | taglist | masterlist

Your third child with Simon: a story told over the phone. On a busy, frantic morning at the barracks, Simon had barely pulled himself a minute to stand aside and return your missed call.

“Everythin’ alright?” His words composed, although every time you phoned he liked to imagine the worst. Stood a good distance from his unit, hand clutching onto the opposite bicep with a habitual frown. “You phoned.” His jaw tight, the heel of his boot digging into the dirt beneath with a stomp.

“Yeah, yeah no, all fine.” You were spitting the words, pacing around your kitchen and haphazardly tidying with the phone snug between your shoulder and ear.

Simon shifted. “So. What is it?” You could hear the loud bustle of masculine laughter from far away on the other line, the uniformed men audibly walking past your husband.

There wasn’t a break between his words and your own, “I’m pregnant again.” You said without much gusto, as if this was routine by the third child and a few scares. “And I um, I don’t know how.” His silence on the line was briefly penetrated by a murmur of his own confusion, the sound of his weight shifting against the dirt beneath him.

“D’you want me to come back?” His dry tone wasn’t met with an answer, the pair of you in silent thought for when this could’ve happened. “I’d need to know, now, ‘cause—“

“No. I don’t need you back.” You cut him off, gaining a grunt of acknowledgment on the other end. “I just wanted to tell you.”

“Do you want it?”

A long sigh came. “Do you?”

The sound of crunching dirt grew louder as someone approached and you knew he wouldn’t answer you now. “Can I phone you back, yeah?”

“Yeah, yeah. No rush,” Simon forcefully grabbed Soap’s shoulder as he walked past, pulling him to the side. “Just think about it though.” You continued, Johnny staring at the silencing gesture Ghost had held up, his finger mere centimetres from the Sergeants face.

“I will, I will.” He glared at Soap, brows fixed into a frown at his lieutenants nods. “Yeah, yeah, right bye.” His eye contact was ditched. “Love you, bye.” The phone hastily shoved back into his pocket, hands on his hips.

“Well?” Soap snorted. “What’s this about?”

“She’s pregnant. Again.”

Johnny’s brows shot upward, smile intruding his face, and leaning back to clap his hands together in amusement. “Christ, Lt. ‘Yous fucking like rabbits when you’re home, eh?”

“Fucking keep it down.” Ghost warned.

“So what’s the deal?” Soap rubbed his face, crossing his arms over his chest.

“No idea how it happened.”

“Well, I assume the shagging had something to do with it.” His joke forced a laugh from Simon, shaking his head and lifting the bottom of his balaclava to rub at his jaw. “A third kid, mate. Can you hack it?”

Simon shrugged.

“Could be a boy.” Soap said absently, receiving a face of sarcastic agreement. Everyone knew Simon was never having a boy, the nurses especially were the first to say as much all those years ago. “Just go home. Talk in person.”

“I’ll phone her.”

And that was Johnny’s cue to leave, nodding once before taking backwards steps. Simon turned around, dialling the number with his eyes to the floor, absently nudging the dirt around with his boots. “Yep.” You answered, clearly still in your busy state.

“I’ll come back.” He murmured.

“No. You’re going away—“

“For three months.” His bite wasn’t intentional. “And by then it’ll be an issue.” The logical side of his brain was forever more in tune than its emotional counterpart. “So let’s just sort it now, yeah?”

And that you did, resulting in the birth of a third child nine months down the line. Miraculously, he was even there for the birth. His first and probably last out of your three children, and god was that an experience. He hadn’t known what to expect but what he came out with was the knowledge that childbirth is seemingly more traumatic than anything he had ever seen on the field. And that was impressive.

simon ‘ghost’ riley taglist: @vamppxncess @crowbird @misshoneypaper @tallrock35 @fluffmonster @islanderr @blueoorchid @lea3773 @coldflapjack @rayhawk05 @han11dh @liishook @melovetitties @fallonx @rvjaa @fuckmelifesucks @bhayatsara @takeomisbitch @local-spidey @konigsblog @penutjuice @babychoi03 @sheluvzeren @sparklingtragedy @maviee @wiserebelpartypie @daddylorianisastateofmind @bhayatsara @mistydeyes @writingmysanity @johfaam0 @idkjoequinn @gressseyy @fwibblefwobble

the taglist is fucked, if you’re not here but want to be added, please follow the link at the start! comments and reblogs are also very appreciated, i’ll sit in a hole if no one pats me on the head every now and then.

[sapphicantics]

Two Sides of the Same Coin | Chapter Two

Pairing: Regina George x fem!reader

Summary: After a nobody destroys the Jocks and insults the Queen Bee without a care or an apology, you get catapulted to the top of the social food chain next to aforementioned Queen Bee, Regina George, who now has to learn to share the spotlight with North Shore’s new bad girl. | Or alternatively, your ‘don’t give a fuck’ attitude sucks you and Regina into each other’s worlds sending you down a path you never expected.

Word count: 1.5k

Contents: mentions of violence, reader might be coming off a bit toxic but she’s meant to be cocky, angry!Regina, sexual tension???, explicit language, a little stalking, more shitty comebacks, think that’s all let me know if I missed any

Note: Well, this chapter took a different turn than I was expecting but honestly I think this is better than what was originally planned. Certain parts of this chapter made me cackle while writing and I hope it makes you cackle too so enjoy my shitty sense of humor

Intro - Chapter One

— — — —

Assuming it’d be a hell of a day might have been a little dramatic.

It’s been a day so far, sure, but nothing different than what you’re used to.

You’ve got a busted lip and your knuckles are sore from, for lack of a better term, bashing Christian Wiggins face in this morning and sending him to the nurse’s office. Perhaps, you’d feel guilty if it wasn’t for the fact that he busted your lip open first.

As often as you have been getting into fights, you thought someone would have noticed by now that you don’t ever throw the first punch - thus granting you the excuse of self-defense.

Though, even if they did know the jocks have far less self control than you and would never be able to refrain from reacting to the things you say.

Speaking of refraining from reacting, Regina has been watching you all day. She still is, right now. Well, technically Gretchen is watching you, but you know she’s doing it because Regina told her to and you know she’s gonna report back to Regina immediately because Regina told her to.

Seems a little obsessive of her, really.

Which is funny considering.

Whatever, you don’t have anything to do with that. If Regina wants to have her little minions following you around then that’s her business.

Also you’re pretty sure Regina intended for Gretchen to be discreet and not make it obvious that she’s watching you, but maybe you’re wrong. Maybe Regina wants you to know she’s watching.

That sounds like something she’d do as an act of intimidation, or even just for fun so you wouldn’t put it past her.

Either way, you know Gretchen is there.

You wouldn’t find this weird because you two do share this class. Normally, you guys sit on opposite sides of the room from each other, but Gretchen is now sitting three seats behind you - not too far away where she can’t see you clearly, but not close enough to where it’s obvious.

( Or maybe it wouldn’t have been obvious if you showed up to class on time, but since you didn’t it was immediately apparent that she switched seats. )

You ignore it because one: you don’t care, and two: what exactly are you gonna do about it? Gretchen’s already anxious enough having to deal with Regina’s bitchiness daily, you’re not about to worsen it by confronting her over something so trivial.

You catch her taking pictures of you and typing rapidly on her phone moments after you have this thought, and now you just have to confront her.

You catch her after the bell before she can escape the classroom, throwing your arm over her shoulder and steering her away from the door. She squeaks as you do so, tightening her grip on her belongings. “So Gretchen, mind telling me why you were taking photos of me when you thought I wasn’t looking?”

She stammers, her eyes widening. “I-I don’t know what you’re talking about. I wasn’t taking pictures of you.”

“Right. So if I took your phone and went to your messages with Regina I wouldn’t find pictures with live updates you’ve been sending her during class?”

Gretchen’s hand tightens even more on her phone if that’s possible, her knuckles turning white with how hard her grip is.

That’s answer enough for you.

“Yeah that’s what I thought. Do me a favor,” you hum, leaning closer to Gretchen. “Tell Regina, and I want you to tell her word for word what I’m about to say, to stop acting like a little bitch and sending her minions to spy on me instead of coming to see me face-to-face.”

Gretchen’s mouth drops open. “I can’t say that to her! She’ll kill me!”

“You’ll be fine as long as you mention my name immediately,” you wave off her concerns which is kind of a rude thing to do, but the whole school already thinks you’re a rude person so may as well uphold the reputation. “Word for word, Gretchen. I’ll know if you don’t.”

That sounds vaguely like a threat that implies you’re gonna come after her if she doesn’t say it word for word. You’re not, but she doesn’t need to know that.

“Go on, Gretchen, you’ve only got a minute and a half before the next class starts, and I’m sure you know how Regina feels about being kept waiting.”

You take your arm off her shoulders and after a moment, she peels out of the classroom, rushing off to Regina.

You sigh and shake your head, you feel bad for that because Gretchen did not deserve your threats and she doesn’t deserve the ire she’s about to get from Regina.

You’d apologize, but you’re sure you’ll never be able to get close to Gretchen again after this.

It’s too late to take it back now so you exit the room and head off to your next class on the opposite side of the school.

— — — —

North shore doesn’t allow students to leave the school early without prior consent from a parent or guardian, or under special circumstances, which you have neither of right now. They don’t really have a way to stop you from leaving, but they will call home and Principal Duvall will pull you into his office in the morning for a lecture, and those are headaches waiting to happen that you’d rather avoid. So even though you’d rather be anywhere else, you’re spending your free period — your last class of the day — lounging around in the cafeteria.

You’re sitting criss-cross atop a table, elbow resting bent upon your knee while your chin rests in the palm of your hand. You’re staring out the window, a single earbud in while Hayley Kiyoko plays in your ear.

You hum along under your breath, a faint clicking noise drawing your eyes to the cafeteria entrance. The doors burst open and in walks Regina, her eyes honing in on you like a target. Her fury is palpable even from here and it makes you smirk knowing you’re able to get under her skin — knowing you’re the only one able to get under her skin like this.

Does this say a lot about you? That you find joy in making Regina angry?

Yes, probably, but why shouldn’t you find joy in calling a bully out on their shit.

Regina slams her hands on the table in front of you interrupting your thoughts. Her glare is intense, and if you were anyone else you’d be cowering under her gaze. Instead, you cock an eyebrow, completely un-phased by the blonde in front of you.

“Something I can do for you, George?”

“You think you’re such hot shit, don’t you? You think you can call me a bitch and get away with it; with no consequences?”

“Oh, no, does the big bad Queen Bee not like being called what she knows she is?” You pout mockingly at her. “Is that all it takes for you to lose your cool, being called a bitch?”

You laugh loudly at that.

It stokes the flames of Regina’s anger and she yanks you up by your collar, your shoes scraping the edge of the table before landing harshly on the floor as Regina slams you against the wall.

Huh, look at that. Prissy pink princess Regina George has the muscles to throw you around.

This is quite the development.

“Congratulations George, you’ve made it about two steps further than anyone else ever has. Think carefully about your next move, lest I let my instincts take over and I fuck up that pretty little face of yours.”

“You have no idea who you’re messing with. I will ruin your life.” She growls at you, ignoring your words.

“Threatening to ruin my life,” you tilt your head in amusement, leaning your face closer to hers. “Seems rather obsessive of you, George. Perhaps you wanna kiss me first. That’s quite on brand for you.”

Regina’s jaw clenches and her grip on you tightens. She goes to speak, but the bell ringing to signal the end of the day cuts her off and you smirk. “You might wanna let me go. If anyone walks by they’ll think you’re making out with me and then everyone will be calling you Sissy Liz, and we can’t have that, now can we?”

Wow, threatening to fight Regina and bringing up her old friendship with Janis — twice, in two different ways — all in a span of like forty-five seconds is absolutely insane.

Regina scowls at you, her eyes practically alight with malice. She doesn’t want to let you go because if she does that means you win, that means you get away with disrespecting her for the third time with no consequences, and no one wins against her, no one is supposed to win against her ever, but you’ve done it twice now and you’re about to do it again.

She shoves you harshly against the wall one last time at the realization and, wow, you’re really priding yourself at the moment because the fact that she’s still standing when anyone else would be on the ground right now speaks volumes to your self-control, but then anyone else would’ve hit you by now so maybe it speaks more to Regina’s intelligence that she’s not.

“This is not over.” With that she turns on her heel and storms away, leaving you with a smirk as you watch her retreating figure.

[amyispxnk]

My Kind of Woman

Chapter 1: Special.

Series Masterlist

Series summary - Your song captivates Joel the second he hears you that night in Jackson, but he struggles to work up the courage to confess his feelings. With some (very heavy) encouragement from Ellie and Tommy, you two get closer and closer until he finally thinks he’s ready.

Chapter summary - You and Joel finally sit down together after a year of stolen glances.

A/N: OH MY GOD IT’S BEEN SO LONG SINCE I’VE WRITTEN A FIC I MISSED IT SM. Let’s all collectively pray that I actually finish this series, btw. It kind of just came to me earlier today and I barely have anything planned but.. you know me by now.

Pairing: Joel Miller x f!reader

Word count: 1.6k

Warnings: alcohol, light language, (kind of) fluff, nothing much really in this chapter

DO NOT COPY THIS FIC IN ANY WAY PLS AND TY.

“Come on man. We’ve been here for almost two years and you still haven’t made any friends. I see how you look at her- just say something! It is actual torture having to watch you dance around people like this.” Ellie groans dramatically, trying to kick some sense into the man who sits across from her. Joel just grunts, continuing to eat his stew as she looks blankly at him. “She’s nice enough.” She adds after a moment, trying to get him to say something.

After more silence, she speaks again with an exaggerated sigh, “I guess I’ll just go talk to her then, tell her that my old man has a big, fat crush on her. Maybe then you two can-” her smirk falters when Joel interrupts her.

“Don’t you dare go doin’ that,” he grumbles “Y’ gon’ make me look stupid-”

“So you talk to her then! Stop moping around all the time.” Ellie concludes, before standing up and saying goodbye, going to clear her tray and giving him a look before leaving the mess hall.

Joel watches her go before closing his eyes and pinching the bridge of his nose. First, Tommy was on his ass about making some friends - “You’re scarin’ people, y’know. Givin’ everyone death stares when you walk around, being so.. withdrawn all the time. It’d do ya some good,” he’d told Joel one evening at the Tipsy Bison - and now Ellie was too. And, knowing Ellie, that kid wouldn’t be as patient, probably already concocting some sort of plan to force you and Joel together.

As he leans his head back and mulls over his options, he looks out the window. Of course you’re out there, playing with the kids of Jackson. You’re one of the most popular people in Jackson, always being friendly and knowing just about everyone.

..Except him, of course. You’ve had some small chats with him, but you never really see him. He sees you though, having been.. observing you for the past year, keeping his distance - being respectful, in his eyes, being a wuss, in Ellie’s - and he knows enough about you to know that he probably has no chance with you.

You’re funny, sweet, fucking stunning, and he’s seen multiple guys try to approach you at the bar. Younger, more attractive guys. Mainly, you help teach kids things like art and music at the Jackson school, and you also do patrols a few times a week. On some nights you also sing at the Tipsy Bison when there are events and dances. The band will play, often with you as the lead singer. He always makes sure he’s there when you are.

The first time he saw you was on one of his very first nights in the Tipsy Bison. Tommy had dragged him along, Ellie going too, with promise of a fun night.

He came mainly to keep an eye on Ellie and to get some alcohol in his system, not expecting anything ‘fun’ to happen. Boy, was he wrong.

It had been around half an hour of him nursing his whiskey in the corner of the room when you came onto stage, million-dollar smile on your face as you spoke into the microphone.

“Good evening, Jackson!” You began, already getting a loud cheer from the crowd of people there that night. “It’s great to be singin’ for you again, you know I missed ya! Now, tonight, we got a few songs lined up, but this first one is a special request from Mister Tommy Miller over there!” You had said, pointing over to Tommy who was sitting with Joel, the younger brother grinning widely at you.

The band started and you began to sing one of Joel’s favourite songs from before the outbreak - somehow, it sounded even better in your voice. Joel glared at Tommy when he realised what he had done, and Tommy just shrugged before looking back at you. He couldn’t stay mad at him though, because by the end of it he was entranced by the sweet melody of your voice and how gorgeous you looked singing your heart out under the lights.

You were beaming at the audience after finishing as they showered you with applause, though it took Joel a second to actually start clapping and stop staring at you.

He tried denying it, but, as cheesy as it sounds, it was love at first sight for him.

It scared him, definitely. It had barely been a year since he lost Tess, and although he wouldn’t go as far as saying they were in love, it was the closest thing he’d had to it in decades. To think he even liked you from just hearing you sing one song.. that fucking terrified him.

Which is why he kept his distance for so long. He didn’t know what to do with himself when he realised he actually liked you. He hadn’t had any sort of connection other than Ellie and Tommy in so long, and they were his family. You, though.. you were so different.

He sighed deeply before opening his eyes again, finishing his meal as he watched you smile and laugh in the snow through the window.

A week later, Tommy manages to convince Joel to come to the Tipsy Bison again, promising ‘no funny business’ to go on. Joel isn’t sure he’d really mind.

Time goes by quietly, a simple Monday afternoon not having much going on for them, but then you turn up. He sees you as soon as you walk through the doors, an unfamiliar tiredness in your eyes. It looks like you’ve been on a long patrol.

You look around before noticing Tommy and Joel, walking over with a small smile.

Joel stares daggers at Tommy. “You said no funny business,” he grits, a strange panic flooding his system. Did he brush his hair this morning? Do his clothes look tidy? Did he have anything in his teeth?

“Ain’t no funny business here, brother.” Tommy grins at him, not giving him a chance to reply as you get to their table.

“Hi Tommy!” You smile, hugging him before turning to Joel. “And Joel! It’s so great to see you!”

Joel blinks at you. Fuck, you’re talking to him. He needs to say something back.

“Yeah, you too.” He mumbles, clearing his throat awkwardly.

If you pick up on his discomfort, you don’t mention it, looking around before continuing.

“Are y’all stayin’?” You ask, now leaning forward a little with your palms on the table.

“As far as I’m concerned.” Tommy replies, to which you nod. “Y’ wouldn’t mind if I sit with ya, then?” You ask.

“Not at all, darlin’.” He says, and you slide into the booth with them, starting up a conversation about what you did today, mentioning that draining patrol you just got back from.

“I’m tellin’ ya - morning patrols are like hell on earth, Tommy. ‘S not fair to be makin’ us go out at 6 am.” You groan, to which he smiles. “Nothin’ a little coffee can’t fix.” Tommy replies, which makes you perk up.

“You have coffee? Since when?” You gasp, wide-eyed at him.

“New trade opened, and since Joel here is such an addict, we got our hands on some.” He gestures to Joel, and you look over at him, a smile creeping onto your face.

“I see.. being Tommy’s brother has its perks then? Got you hoarding all the coffee for yourself?” You tease, to which Joel chuckles quietly at, sitting up a little taller.

“Not hoardin’. Nobody else has asked for any.” He tells you, looking into your eyes and trying not to get lost in them for too long.

“And if I wanted some?” You say, tilting your head sideways slightly as it rests on your palm.

“Y’ always welcome to come get some, sweetheart.” He isn’t sure what possessed him to use the pet name with you, but he’s very thankful for it as a soft crimson paints your cheeks and you bite your lip to stop yourself from grinning like an idiot. “Well, thank you.” You reply, before a man comes over to get you your drink. “Whiskey, neat please.” You tell him and he goes off to get it. Joel is pleasantly surprised by your choice. He never really thought about what you might order from the bar, but the fact that you shared the same drink of choice made you even more attractive in his eyes.

2 hours later, Tommy had gone off to handle an issue with the council and you and Joel had been talking and drinking and laughing. It’s around 3 now and he barely realises in time for his afternoon patrol, finishing off his whiskey before telling you, noticing the slight sadness that appears on your face at him having to go.

“Oh! Alright then. I’ll see you around. Have a good patrol, Joel.” You smile at him, and he offers you a small smile back.

“See ya ‘round.” He says before leaving and going back to the stables.

Later that evening, Ellie somehow figures out what went down earlier at the bar (Joel’s already planning on giving Tommy a talking to tomorrow) and makes fun of him endlessly for it, saying that he was apparently so shy when he was talking with you.

“I’d have never thought that someone could make the big, bad Joel all nervous and flustered, but she just continues to prove me wrong. She’s definitely special, huh.” Ellie grins, before bidding Joel goodnight and leaving him with his thoughts.

He hated to admit it, but Ellie was right in saying that. You were special.

Tysm for reading, I hope you enjoyed! Likes, comments, and reblogs are appreciated! 💞

Next Chapter

[heavyhitterheaux]

Got Me Thinking

Part 1: Butterflies

Synopsis: a reunion that is well overdue makes your heart flutter once you lay eyes on your first love in more than ten years and the feelings that you thought were long gone come rushing back

Pairing: Jack Harlow x Reader

Please Do Not Repost My Content Anywhere

Sighing to yourself, you quickly pulled out your phone and started looking for plane tickets to head back home to Louisville. It had been a little while since you had been back, but your biggest reason for going was to get away from him.

Him being your husband, Xavier.

The two of you had been married for only three years, but you were over it. You had come to the realization that the person you married was long gone and that there really was no hope left. The less that you were around him, the better.

You knew he was cheating on you and you recently discovered that he had gotten another woman pregnant and that she was due in less than a month.

He had no idea that you knew all of that information and since you found out, you had just been biding your time and had since opened up another bank account to save money in order to plan to get away from him.

The goal was to move back to Louisville so that you could be closer to your parents and siblings who stayed there while you were the only one that left.

Booking your flight, you closed your phone to begin packing since you would literally be leaving within the next few hours. At this point, you were desperate and longing for a peaceful environment.

You knew that he wouldn't ask any questions about where you were and it seemed as if it had gotten to the point where the two of you were simply roommates and you were completely okay with that.

It had been almost a week since you had seen him anyway.

A quick text was sent to your mom to let her know to expect you around midnight and she quickly responded back in excitement.

The plan was to divorce him by the end of this year because then you would have more than enough money to live off of for the time being once you moved back. Truth be told, you had enough money now, being a CRNA had its perks and it helped that you lived in California which had the highest pay for nurses because of the cost of living. Moving to Louisville would definitely be a pay cut, however you didn't even care. You just wanted to get away from him.

–

When you had finally touched down in Louisville at midnight, you told your mom not to worry about getting you from the airport but she insisted and wouldn't take no for an answer.

Once you slid into the passenger seat of her car after throwing your suitcase in the back, she immediately eyed you which made a sigh escape from your lips.

“Hi to you too, mother.”

“I'm just waiting until the divorce is finalized so that I can throw you a party.” She said while following behind the other cars headed towards the highway.

“By the end of the year. I told you that already.”

“But what are we waiting for? Anything that you need, you know me and your dad will support you until you get settled back here in Louisville. He is a piece of shit and I'm tired of him treating my daughter as if she isn't the best thing to happen to his ungrateful ass.”

“He wasn't always like this.”

“I know because if he was, ain't no way in hell he would have gotten my approval to marry you.” Your mother replied with her voice slightly raised and you simply sighed.

“You deserve so much more and it is hard seeing my youngest child so unhappy all the time. So, I'm just going to say it.”

“MOM!” You replied turning to her with wide eyes because you knew what was going to happen next and what she was going to say because she said it every single time that you talked to her on the phone or facetime.

“Jack wouldn't have treated you like this.”

“Will you ever let that go? We broke up more than 10 years ago! It was a mutual decision!”

“Well it needs to be a mutual decision for yall asses to get back together. Jack is the only son-in-law that I'm going to acknowledge at this point and I am waiting for the proposal. See? It's meant to be. I don't like his wife and I don't like your husband. There, that settles it.”

Any time that someone mentioned Jack, your heart immediately began to race and the butterflies in your stomach increased tenfold.

The two of you decided to end your relationship after dating from your freshman year in high school all the way up until senior year. It wasn't because either of you wanted to, it just was what was best. You were going to nursing school and Jack was trying to become a rapper and get a record deal and move to Atlanta. When you sat down and thought about it, the two of you could have made it work, but the last thing you wanted was for him to feel like he was being held back by you in any shape or form.

You saw how successful he was and was proud of him and never counted him out for a minute despite what people were saying around the two of you.

“Wait, pause. When did he get married?!”

“Talk about a delayed reaction. But it only happened about ten months ago. You and Xavier were umm… starting to have your issues so I didn't mention it. I met her when I went to meet Maggie for lunch and she gave me… What's that word yall use now? The ick. And in not so many words when Maggie and I went to lunch, she told me she didn't like her either and that he should have married you. Jack even LOOKS unhappy. But you didn't hear that from me. Do what you want with that information. I mean you could always go over to Maggie and Brian's. It seems like he's always there and never at home. I wouldn't be at home either with someone like that.”

“Mom! Quit it. I am here to…”

“Get away from your cheating ass husband who is also about to have a baby on you? Go and get the man who has wanted you since you were fourteen.”

All you did was sigh because you knew deep down that your mother was right. But, you still had hesitations in the back of your mind. You highly doubt that Jack still felt the same about you all these years later. Besides, he had a whole wife and you could admit that your mother could be extra dramatic at times, so why would he marry her if he didn't even like her?

“Okay, changing the subject. What do you want to eat when we get home?”

“Mom, it's one in the morning.”

“So? What time do stomachs open?”

–

Later on in the day when you had gotten some much needed sleep, you had a craving for some Italian food and decided to go to a restaurant not too far from your parents’ house and get your order to go. Your all time favorite, Vincenzo's.

In order to make it so no one in your house had to cook dinner, you took it upon yourself to get something for everyone. You had already placed your order and was waiting for it as you were scrolling on your phone, when suddenly you heard someone call your name from behind.

“Y/N?”

Once you looked up and turned around, you came face to face with no one other than Jack's younger brother Clay. Who you hadn't seen since you left Louisville to go to nursing school.

“Well look who it is and who is all grown up. Hi, Clay.” You responded while giving him a hug. You remember him wanting to be just like Jack and would want to follow him around everywhere.

“Just visiting or moving back like your parents want?” He asked and all you could do was roll your eyes because you knew your mom would tell anyone who would listen.

“Oh, so she's literally made it known to everyone that they want me to move back, but just visiting for right now. Had a taste for some Italian so here I am.”

“What are you doing tonight? Are you busy by any chance?” Clay asked, catching you off guard. Your only plans were to drink wine and watch tv until you passed out for exhaustion.

You simply shook your head no towards him.

“Well, it's Jack’s birthday and we’re throwing a surprise party for him and Urban. You should come. I know he would be happy to see you.”

You didn't even realize that it was in fact March 13th.

“Clay, I don't know. We haven't seen each other in over ten years.”

“All the more reason to come. Just…. trust me on this. He would want you there and I won't get knocked upside the head for his gift not being here on time and I'll just say that you're the gift.” All you did was laugh and shake your head.

It wouldn't totally be a bad thing to see him, but what would you say when you did?

The butterflies were erupting in your stomach again and you looked back up at Clay before you talked yourself out of it.

“What time and where is it?”

—

Your older sister, Janelle was currently with you in your childhood bedroom helping you decide what to wear and of course she was picking out the more revealing outfits while you were simply trying to be modest.

“Put them titties on display! Show him what he’s been missing!” She yelled and you simply looked at her and rolled your eyes.

“You are literally the worst and I should have asked Jeremiah.”

“Should have asked me what?” Your older brother and the middle child, Jeremiah asked as he popped his head into your room.

“What the? Since when do you live here?” You asked, confused by his sudden appearance.

“Well damn, I can’t come and see my baby sister when she’s here anymore? And besides, Janelle texted me and said you were going to a certain ex’s birthday party. So, I needed to find out the details and especially when the wedding date is.”

“Because Janelle cannot keep her mouth shut to save her life and yes I am. And wait a minute, WEDDING DATE? You two are just as insane as our mother.”

“She won’t dress slutty though as I’m suggesting.” Janelle said while rolling her eyes at you.

“You want my ass and boobs out like I’m not going to freeze.”

“Hoes don’t get cold.” She fired back, but you quickly gave it right back to her.

“I’m anemic.”

“You know you’ve always been it for him. I mean my baby sister is the shit and he let you get away and is now married to… umm…. Someone that is not on his level.” Jeremiah said as he went over to your vanity to pick out jewelry that you would wear despite you not having an outfit.

Jeremiah was definitely the fashionista out of the three of you and you knew for a fact if he wasn’t an orthopedic surgeon that he would definitely be doing big things in the fashion industry.

“So, all of you have met her?!”

“And it was not a pleasant experience and one that had left a good first impression.”

Janelle got up to rummage through your suitcase and found a black halter top that she paired with tan cargo pants and proceeded to throw your New Balance 550’s at you that matched.

“Here, go put this on. Your boobs are going to be spilling out the top in this.”

“Did I ever tell you two how much you both get on my nerves?”

“All the time, but it’s a good thing that we don’t care. Now it’s time to catch us a man.”

“He’s married.”

“And so are you. And both of you are miserable. Hurry up and make this happen, we have a wedding to plan.”

It was now 8 PM and you were sitting in the passenger’s seat of Clay’s car and the two of you were headed to where the surprise party was going to be held and he noticed how much you kept fidgeting.

“Y/N, it’s going to be fine. I know he misses you even if he doesn’t want to admit it at times. He is always asking our mom if she had talked to your mom lately and always asked how you were doing.”

“Really?”

All Clay did was nod his head as he slowed down to a complete stop at the red light in the intersection.

“Look, I… know he probably doesn’t want you to know this, but I’m telling you anyway.”

“Tell me what?” Now you could feel your heart rate speeding up.

“When he found out that you were married that broke him even though he was trying to put up a front and now he probably won’t admit it if someone asked him. He has never moved on from you.”

“Clay…. He’s married so, obviously he did move on.”

“Hmm, if you could call it that.” He responded while snorting and trying to find a place to park so that the two of you could head inside.

“Wait, what?”

“You know from the start that we were always rooting for you two to be together. Even our parents were.”

“Clay, I did not come here to break up a marriage.”

“I… it’s already broken despite it not even being an entire year yet, but you didn’t hear that from me. But Jack has to see it for himself. Anyway, we’re here. And if nothing else tonight puts a smile on his face, I know you will when he sees you. His wife might show up, she might not… she’s a piece of work.”

“All of you give me entirely too much credit. I am nothing special.”

“Ask Jack if he feels the same way and I guarantee that he’s going to say that you are.”

The two of you walked in and Clay had mentioned that Jack and Urban were going to be there within the next ten minutes and now your butterflies were starting all over again as they erupted once more in your stomach.

When PG saw you, you were placed into bone crushing hugs and it was expressed how much you had been missed around Louisville, especially from Jack and that once he laid eyes on you that it would be a done deal.

Clay told you to hide to the side in the back corner as PG was in front of you so that when Jack walked in, he wouldn’t be able to see you until everyone moved out of the way. He planned on everyone screaming ‘surprise’ when both of them walked in and then telling him that he wanted to start the party off right by showing him a gift that he had been patiently waiting for, and that gift was you.

It was now quiet in the room that the party was taking place and the lights had been shut off and you heard Jack and Urban mumbling to each other while trying to find the light switch. Once they did, everyone screamed ‘surprise!’ and the two of them were all smiles.

This was the first time that you had laid eyes on Jack in person in more than ten years and the butterflies erupted once more. He looked so good and it felt that your heart was about to beat out of your chest.

Clay had walked over towards him to give him a hug and then whispered in his ear and you were assuming that he was telling him about the so-called “gift” and the two of them started to walk towards where you were casually standing behind Ace and 2fo.

“I know that this will probably be your most favorite birthday gift that I’ve ever gotten you.” You heard Clay say and you simply smirked and laughed to yourself.

“Hmm, I’ll be the judge of that.” You heard him answer and it was now go time.

“Okay, Ace and 2fo, move out of the way so that he can see his surprise. I made this happen by the way, just so you know.” Clay said and Jack immediately rolled his eyes before laughing.

Once Ace and 2fo moved, Jack came face to face with you and it seemed to be speechless and it was as if he couldn’t believe that you were standing in front of him.

“Happy thirtieth birthday, Jackman, or should I say Jackson? Did you miss me?”

[i-cant-sing]

i realized we never wondered what happened when the first lady went into labor with the triplets

*first lady water breaks*

First Lady: Oh, looks like the babies are coming!

Kai: HONEY I WILL CARRY YOU TO THE HOSPITAL!!

*runs to first lady, slips on first lady's pee and hits his head*

now the secret service has to bring their in labor first lady and their idiot president to the hospital.

ACTUALLY Kai was very calm and collected when your water broke. I mean, in reality he probably already had you admitted to the hospital a week before your due date. But let's say that due to some official business, you were with him on tour or something, or maybe due to some complications, you ended up giving birth earlier than expected to.

Now if you're in public eye, where the papz are all over the place, then the sight of your water breaking will forever live on the Internet. Of course, Kai will try his best to shield you from the cameras as he guides you towards a car, the secret service forming an impenetrable barrier around you two. The driver, a professional, is zooming through the traffic, your PA Miruko has already called the hospital to give them a heads up, the secret service arr already there to do checks on everyone while Kai is holding your hand and guiding you to do those breathing exercises.

He has prepared for this moment, all the number of possibilities that this could go down has been roleplayed in his mind and developed strategies to deal with each route. He's ready.

The moment you reach the hospital, he's in there with you, letting you squeeze his hand painfully as you scream through the labour. He's praising you, although monotonously, wiping your sweaty forehead, his own brows furrowed whenever a painful contraction hits.

Dabi was born first, and you let out an agonising scream before crying into Kai's shoulder to see if the baby is alright. Kai assured you when Dabi began to cry, and only minutes later, even more painful contractions hit you and out came Himiko. Kai smiled as the doctor told him its a girl, and Kai turned to you to tell you she was healthy as well. This time though, Kai saw the toll on your body as your breathing became shallow, your eyes losing focus as you told him you can't push again.

The doctors began encouraging you to push, and as the contractions began again, you started crying, telling them that you couldn't. That's its too painful now. Hours passed by and Kai could see that there was something wrong with you- the way you were crying, the way you gripped his hand- it was different.

"Kai, please! Help me!" You cried out before finally losing consciousness, and immeadiately Kai took action.

"GET THAT BABY OUT OF HER NOW!!! NOW!" The nurses pushed him out of the room as he threatened to kill everyone in there if something happened to you. But perhaps it was even a more horrifying sight as Kai had to watch from a window and see the doctors cut you up open and pull out the third kid.

Tomura.

Kai could care less about how Tomura, or his other babies were in that moment. He really did believe you were going to die and it made him feel utterly powerless to not be able to do anything.

Fortunately, you survived.

Kai sat by your side, holding your hand as you recovered from the C section. It was brutal, seeing you gutted like a fish. When you finally woke up, Kai was staring at you with tired eyes, his chin resting on his palm.

"B-babies?" You asked.

"They're fine. You did great, almost died birthing the last one though." Kai replied, his throat dry.

You chuckled, before coughing. Kai immediately poured you some water, pushing the cup to your lips as he supported your head.

"How are you feeling now?" He asked.

You sighed, looking down at your belly. "Well, the painkillers are working for now. But I suppose once they wear off, I..."

Kai leaned forward, clasping your hand with both of his. "What? What is it?"

"I-" You pouted. "I'll be left with a saggy belly."

Kai nodded. "True. But we can always fix that."

You raised a brow. "How?"

"I can put another baby in you, actually maybe quadruplets this time? Just to make sure the skin is all taut again, hm?" Kai hummed.

"Q-quad- 5 babies?!"

"No, 4. 5 is quintuplets. And 7 is septuplets-"

"Kai I will snip off your testes and my ovaries before I have 7 kids. I will literally do it-" You began panicking, only stopping when Kai chuckled and kissed your cheek.

"Alright, alright. It won't happen." Kai's lips quirked up a little, just as the nurses brought in your triplets.

They carefully placed each one in your arms. "They're beautiful, just like their mother!" One nurse complimented. You giggled, a tear slipping the corner of your eye.

"So you're calling the president ugly? To his face?" Kai asked, glaring at them. The poor nurse shook her head.

"I- no! Mr President-"

"Kai, stop." You admonished. "He's just kidding. You're fine, honey."

The nurse smiled. "Oh, well I'll leave you guys alone. I'll be back in a few to help you with breast feeding." She said before leaving.

Kai raised a brow before shaking his head. "She's not getting anywhere near your breasts."

"Really? You're jealous of a nurse now?"

"Who said anything about jealousy? I just don't think she's experienced enough. She looks fairly young."

"Well, that's alright. She can practice by fondling my chest for experience. Would look good on her resume, don't ya think?" You said without looking up from your kids.

Kai leaned over you, watching you and the babies you two made. "You're not funny." He grumbled.

"Married you, didn't I? Greatest joke of all." You smiled. "They look like little angels."

Kai shrugged. "Yeah." To him, they looked like mutated cockroaches that teared through your body to get out. They were even bloody just a few hours ago.

And then just years later, reader was preggers again.

[bltngames]

I Have Complicated Thoughts About Mother 3

Note: Patreon donors can listen to this article as a podcast narrated by me. Click to learn more.

Confined to a tiny room, I pulled out my off-brand retro portable and loaded up the fan translation of Mother 3. It had been on my list of "important games to play" for literal years at this point, if not more than a decade, and playing Mother 3 was bottle necking a lot of other stuff -- for example, I also wanted to play Undertale, but swore I'd need to finish Mother 3 first, despite being very graciously gifted Undertale only a few months after it came out on PC. 

Being something I wanted to play, that obviously meant avoiding spoilers. When the ability was added to places like Twitter or Tumblr to block specific keywords, often the first one I'd block was "Mother 3" alongside the names of a handful of characters I knew like Lucas, Claus, and Kumatora. 

I'd played a couple hours of Mother 3 once before, right when the translation patch first came out, so I knew what happened in the opening scenes of the game. I knew what a gut punch it was. It definitely worried me, because as I started the game back up, now in 2021, I silently thought about what it would be like playing a game that starts with your player character's mother dying, as I looked up at my own bed ridden mother. 

It was May of 2021 that she developed debilitating back pain. There was an easy enough explanation for that; we had just gone through a hellish (and potentially legally dubious) renovation forced upon us by the corporation that owned our gigantic apartment complex. Due to a scheduling error, we had less than a week to pack up our whole apartment so they could move us out, renovate the unit, and then move us back in. We attributed her back pain to that moving process -- lifting cardboard boxes and such.

But the back pain kept getting worse. They prescribed her stronger and stronger medication for what they claimed was sciatica, but it never seemed to help. After multiple trips to the emergency room, she was finally admitted to the hospital proper, where her femur randomly shattered during a routine procedure. The femur is the longest, strongest bone in your body, and typically only breaks during extremely violent impacts, like car crashes and stuff. For my mother, it broke as nurses were shifting her around to clean her bedding. Tests for bone cancer seemed to come back negative, so the doctors shrugged at us and considered it a freak accident and just the toll of old age.

There was no way she was making it back up the stairs to our apartment any time soon (if ever), so it was decided she'd have to heal from that broken leg at my brother's place, and since my brother and his wife both work day jobs, I volunteered to take care of my Mom while she got better. Hence why I was stuck in this tiny room, booting up Mother 3 in July or August of 2021.

My Mom never got better. It would be eight months before they told us they had somehow missed detecting her cancer, and by then, it had spread so viciously they weren't even sure where it originally started from. By the time they told us this, she had only days left.

Every step of the way in those 8 months, as she insisted over and over she was healing and told me about all the things she wanted to get back to doing, I believed her. But my Mom also taught me to always expect and brace for the worst. So as I watched Mother 3's Claus and Lucas bury their own deceased mom, there was an undeniable heaviness swelling in my heart. A feeling I could not shake. Though I didn't know yet, I knew something wasn't right, even if the doctors continued to shrug as more symptoms mounted. I could see myself in the same shoes as Claus and Lucas, and I didn't like it.

Once upon a time, I loved RPGs. I cut my teeth on Final Fantasy 2 for the SNES. Though to be honest, I don't remember my time with it very fondly. I didn't really understand the genre; I thought "hit points" referred to points on the body you could be struck at. Like, your elbow is a hit point. Your ear is a hit point. So on and so forth. When the game told me a monster like Scarmiliogne had "3,000 Hit Points", I figured that meant he was a giant, and thus had more surface area to strike at. I was not a very bright kid, but in my defense, nobody ever bothered to correct me, either. 

The first RPG to really stick out in my head was Earthbound (known in Japan as Mother 2). On the surface, Earthbound felt like a kitschy look at hometown Americana, as filtered through the lens of a Japanese writer. Though Earthbound sort of focused on contemporary America when it came out, to me, it's always carried this vibe of Norman Rockwell by way of The Peanuts gang. Though you chat it up with mohawk wearing punks, visit video arcades, and order pizza over the phone, something about its story feels deliberately retro and nostalgic, even in the mid-90's when it first came out. 

Earthbound is about leaving home for the first time, feeling sad about it, and calling your Mom at a payphone to cheer up. It's about taking on huge responsibilities while you're still just a kid swinging a baseball bat. It's about going from your house on a dirt road and traveling all the way up to the big city and beyond. It's about making best friends and bullies, and some of those story elements hit close to home for me. It's about finding an inner strength you didn't know was there, and to keep going, no matter what. It's about music and the secret song that plays in your soul. 

Earthbound is a warm, deeply heart-felt game that also happens to feature zombies, bubblegum chewing monkeys, time travel, secret civilizations full of unknown creatures, and a sequence where you beat up an entire police force one cop at a time. 

That is not the kind of game Mother 3 is. 

I suppose I wasn't really sure what I expected Mother 3 was going to be. All I'd really known was Earthbound, plus the 5 or so hours I'd played of the original NES game, retroactively renamed from "Mother" to "Earthbound Beginnings" in 2015. The retro Americana vibes I felt in Earthbound are even stronger in Beginnings. Though the story of Earthbound Beginnings claims it takes place in the 1980's, the visual identity rings much closer to the 50's or 60's. One of round vintage Cadillacs, greasers with big pompadours, and roaming hippies preaching peace and love. 

Mother 3 deliberately obscures when and where it's set, for reasons that will eventually become clear. You better get used to it too, because holding information back is kind of a running theme. 

Because if I'm being totally honest, I didn't like Mother 3. And at first, I was struggling to figure out why. Earlier when I said "I loved RPGs", that's because my life changed to a point where I felt like I didn't have room for them anymore. Games with lots of dialog meant they demanded my full, undivided attention. When I was sitting at a TV or a computer, I was often multitasking between multiple forms of output -- I'd be doing work while watching a Youtube video or listening to a podcast, and that slowly began to push out story-driven games like RPGs in favor of lighter, more replayable experiences I could engage with while I also did something else.

The one place that was not true was in the portable space. I didn't have a smartphone for the longest time, so I'd often find myself in a commute or on a lunch break at work with nothing to do but pull out something like my Nintendo DS and crank away at an RPG. I devoured games like Final Fantasy IV, Phantasy Star Zero and Bowser's Inside Story. Even games I did not particularly like, such as Kingdom Hearts re:Coded and Pokemon Pearl ended up getting a lot of play. 

At some point that changed, and it changed so gradually I didn't even realize it for the longest time. Over the last ten years I have tried and failed to enjoy portable versions of Final Fantasy V and Final Fantasy VI, and found neither game to my taste. FF5 felt far too boilerplate in terms of structure and I simply got bored of it halfway in. With FF6, hype had led me to believe it was some kind of life-changing RPG super-classic, and I came away extremely unimpressed with both its story and its pacing. 

Both FF5 and FF6 came at a time after I'd finally gotten a few Android devices of my own -- in fact, most of Final Fantasy V was played on a Samsung tablet while I was at work. By now, I was starting to question whether or not having breezy mobile games like Pac-Man 256 was hurting my ability to commit to longer RPGs, even in the last space where it felt like I could sit down and focus on them. 

This is sort of what spurred me to start Mother 3 at all: since I was at my brother's place, my desktop computer and most of my video games were on the other side of town. All I had with me was a 12 year old laptop that was only good as a word processor, and a handheld emulation device called an "Anbernic". As the weeks stretched into months, I needed something to do or I was going to go insane. It seemed like no better time to knock something off my bucket list, but now it was starting to feel like strike three with portable RPGs. 

My malaise only added fuel to the fire: am I now simply too distractible everywhere? Would I rather be playing simple, quick-hit arcade style games, forever? 

It seemed like the perfect scapegoat, too. Maybe the problem wasn't that Final Fantasy VI hasn't aged very well, and more just the fact that my tastes had changed. After all, Final Fantasy VI is deeply beloved and considered one of the best games in the series. Perhaps I was the problem. 

But that's not entirely true. The problem with FF6 is that its story simultaneously felt too complex and dead simple at the same time. By now, I was engaging with RPGs where I'd only play them for 20-30 minutes once a week, and I could never remember what was going on because the plot felt like it was over my head. But when a major event would happen, it was always conveyed in this rushed, shallow way. The reason I could never remember what was going on is because nothing ever felt important enough to leave a lasting impact on me. 

That was never true with Mother 3. Even though it took me close to three full years to finish it, it wasn't that hard to recall where I'd left off, even if "where I'd left off" was over four months ago. 

No, the further I got into Mother 3, the clearer it became that I was not vibing with the story. 

Whereas the first two Earthbound games seemed to be deeply mired in warm feelings of childhood nostalgia, Mother 3 is a bitter, angry game about how much growing up sucks. All three games are of children coming of age and taking their first shaky steps into adulthood, but whereas Earthbound wields rose-tinted sweetness, Mother 3 grabs you by the neck and lays out a cold, harsh reality. 

You play as Lucas, who has a twin brother named Claus, and a father, a cowboy named Flint. The death of their mother shatters their entire family; both Flint and Claus have emotional breakdowns, the latter of which ends in Claus running away from home and Flint leaving to go find him. Both of them vanish. That leaves you, as Lucas, in the care of your grandfather, Alec.

Unfortunately for Lucas, the accident that killed his mother was only the start of a dangerous chain of events, and he soon finds himself swept up in adventure in the way RPG protagonists generally do. Earthbound set itself apart from typical RPG tropes by getting away from fantastical elements and basing itself in real life (albeit a strange, exaggerated version of it). Places with bicycles, fast food, and ATMs.

Mother 3 generally avoids this. You're introduced to Tazmily Village, an isolated farming community of log cabins and dirt roads, buried deep within the heart of the Sunshine Forest.

It's not really known when or where Mother 3 is set. Compared to Earthbound's attachment to contemporary America, Sunshine Forest and the areas surrounding it feature strange creatures like dragons, and even old, dilapidated castles. And yet Mother 3 also seems to have more in common with the wild-west-era American frontier than it does anything else, but even that isn't quite right. 

Tazmily is presented as the ultimate in idyllic life. It's a place where everybody helps everybody, intrinsically, out of the goodness of their own hearts. Poke around at the start of the game and you'll find that though they do have a jail, it's never been used, because nobody has ever committed a crime. 

Until one day, a mysterious man named Fassad appears. He's quick to charm the residents of Tazmily, and introduces the village to the concept of money. He also introduces the concept of deception, as in the night, Fassad steals some of that same money, sowing the first seeds of greed and distrust in these simple people. This rapidly transforms Tazmily from a sleepy, easy-going community to a bustling town of paved roads, automobiles, and even, thanks to further gifts from Fassad, technological entertainment delivered by his "Happy Boxes" -- cubes with embedded, glowing screens that emit a hypnotic signal intended to make people feel good (and more willing to spend their newly acquired finances). 

As Lucas, you oppose all of this. Fassad is clearly an evil, scheming man, both establishing and sabotaging a structure of financial power for his own gain, and its changing Tazmily for the worse. Since Fassad has arrived, Tazmily has seen an increase in monster attacks, and eventually even freak lightning storms that destroy whole entire buildings -- which coincidentally always belong to people that oppose Fassad. 

Funny how that works.

After Lucas and his grandpa Alec accuse Fassad, he uses his foothold with the people of Tazmily to brand you as a traitor. The very people that once treated you like family now curse your name for daring to threaten their modernized way of life. Soon, the first mayor of Tazmily officially disowns you, your grandfather is locked up in the newly built elderly care center, and your house somehow ends up being the next thing obliterated by the mysterious lightning storm. 

It's a hell of a first impression. The dominating message Mother 3 sends in its opening chapters is that things used to be better. Back when it was just people helping people, before the days of television, and cars, and roads, and even money. When the only thing that mattered was the sweat on your brow, the food in your stomach, and where the sun was in the sky. 

It felt cynical to me. Jaded. Things were different in 2006 when Mother 3 first came out, but it's hard not to read that today as some extension of the tired complaints around having too many devices and too much convenience. Like that meme that simply blames all of society's problems on having a phone. And it's a well Mother 3 goes back to over and over and over again: that Fassad brings the corruption of money, the corruption of technology, and the corruption of modern civilization, turning the residents of Tazmily into rude, vapid, ignorant zombies who have grown complacent with the increasingly bad things happening around them. 

And that's not the only thing in the game that can be read as cynical, either. More than once Mother 3 presents us with scenarios where Lucas faces down adult responsibilities and uses this as a way to express something depressing or frustrating as just being the way the world works. Such as early on when Lucas has to enter a factory as a new employee, and we're told about the joys of child labor -- including the hard hours you're expected to work for minimal pay.

Or how about when you receive a fast travel vehicle halfway through the game. Not only will it become permanently unusable if you accidentally allow it to run out of fuel (pretty easy, considering there's no visible fuel gauge), but refueling it incorrectly will cause it to explode, also rendering the vehicle useless. After all, you're just a dumb kid, and complex machines like these are meant to be cared for properly. 

Some of this is definitely meant to be more funny than serious or soul crushing, but the whole game has this rough edge to it that wasn't there in the original Earthbound, where Lucas brushes up against some fact of adulthood and it serves as an uncomfortable lesson. I couldn't help but read it as the game imparting something about how much growing up sucks, and how much that's just a part of life. Your parents will die, your neighbors are ignorant, work sucks and you'll probably mess it up anyway. Get over it. 

I even got this impression coming from the game's own upgrade systems. Both Lucas and another party member Kumatora can learn PSI abilities, which are basically the game's magic spells. When Lucas or Kumatora gets strong enough to learn a new PSI ability, they break out in an uncontrollable fever, a status effect that limits your ability to do certain things like sprinting. Until that fever breaks, you have to slowly walk everywhere. 

It doesn't really add anything to the experience. It doesn't make the game more fun, or more exciting. It's just one of those annoying things you have to put up with, because again, that's life, kid. Sometimes you get sick and you just can't move very fast.

The overall vibe of cynicism gets even worse as you start encountering Mother 3's handful of references to Earthbound. Mother 3 may go out of its way to forge a narrative separate from Earthbound, but there are definitely more than a few scenes referencing special moments from that game, and at least to me, all of them felt extremely pandering. It was as if Mother 3 was beating me over the head, jumping up and down shouting, "It's that thing you remember! Do you remember? Remember Earthbound? Look, we can do that thing too!" 

The further you progress in the game, the more these references change from feeling pandering to almost being mocking. It's eventually revealed that the game's true antagonist, and the man giving orders to Fassad, is Porky, the mean little rich kid from Earthbound. Porky has now become a man who seemingly lives in the past, having constructed multiple shrines of mementos from his adventures battling Ness and friends in the previous game. The ultimate version of this is his monument to nostalgia, New Pork City, the final area of Mother 3. 

It's effectively one gigantic theme park patterned after the major locales of Earthbound, all focused around celebrating how great Porky was back then, and how great he apparently still is.

And again, it felt unnecessarily angry. Just like how Fassad conquered and spoiled the idyllic village of Tazmily, Porky had taken ownership over Earthbound nostalgia and made it feel dirty. It felt like Mother 3, a game that went out of its way to be so different from Earthbound, sometimes almost shockingly so, was now spitting directly in my face. Porky, the ultimate obnoxious loser who just won't go away, refuses to let go of Earthbound. And you don't want to be like Porky, do you? 

It started to feel insulting. Several times over the course of playing Mother 3, I was considering quitting the game and never looking back because it seemed to be going out of its way to twist the knife. Was Mother 3 somehow bitter about Earthbound's legacy? 

Again, I had done my absolute best to avoid spoilers. Blocking Mother-related tags on social media was just the first step. In general, when Mother 3 came up in casual conversations I was privy to, I would quietly excuse myself and find somewhere else to be until I was sure they had changed subjects.

There has been a degree of "spoiler culture" discourse in recent years. Some claim it's a marketing tactic. Marvel movies only make you care so much about spoilers because that's how they get butts in seats on opening weekend. I don't know about that -- I've cared about spoilers my entire life, and I know I'm not alone. The pilot episode of the seminal sitcom Seinfeld ends with Jerry trying to avoid spoilers for a Mets baseball game that he recorded. And that was 1989. It's been a valid concern for much longer than any notion of a summer blockbuster movie.

Simply put, surprises are better when they are surprising. That doesn't mean you necessarily have to like surprises, but I think you'd have to be a pretty sad sack to go out of your way to ruin a surprise for someone else. For people who aren't curmudgeons about it, there are few things better in life than a nice surprise. Something unexpected like that could make a person's whole day, if not their whole week.

If modern movie culture has done anything, it's made people unable to keep spoilers to themselves. Blocking social media terms will only get you so far. When an artist posts a piece of fan art or friends share memes and they don't include any text, then there's nothing for the blocking algorithm to detect. And when a conversation starts with spoilers, there's simply no time to avoid the landmine -- which, to be fair, was the final punchline Jerry suffered in the Seinfeld pilot, as his neighbor Kramer blurted out the results of the game before Jerry had a chance to protest.  

Many of Mother 3's biggest mysteries were spoiled well in advance of me ever actually playing the game. The biggest one being the reveal of the mastermind behind the game's Pigmask Army, the aforementioned Porky Minch. Mother 3 goes to great lengths to tease this mystery out across its entire 30 hour run time, dropping major hints as you pass the halfway point. 

And then Porky, in his Mother 3 form, cameos as an early boss battle in Super Smash Bros. Brawl, one of the ten best selling games on the Nintendo Wii. Thanks to director Masahiro Sakurai, more people know who the final boss of Mother 3 is than have actually played Mother 3 (or, let's be honest, will ever play Mother 3). 

This is why I freely mentioned Porky earlier, because if anyone knows anything about Mother 3 at this point, it's that Porky is the primary villain. The same goes for New Pork City, which was a prominent arena in Smash Bros.

In a roundabout way, Smash Bros. was also responsible for the other major Mother 3 spoiler I bore witness to; Mother 3 pixel artwork ended up being used in other Smash Bros. games over the years, including artwork of other characters with secret identities. That hasn't stopped a number of Smash Bros. fans from casually name-dropping the true, unmasked identity of this character online. I may have avoided conversations about Mother 3, but the tendrils of these spoilers extended far beyond its humble borders. Sometimes, you just can't escape it.

This is not me drumming up any sort of "woe is me" sympathy, mind you. But ultimately, it did have an effect on me. In most of Mother 3's cutscenes, I was waiting for the big reveals I knew were coming. Expectation is everything, and when you're watching every cutscene through a microscope, it changes how you see things. There's the old adage about being so focused on one tree that you miss seeing the rest of the forest, but imagine you're so zoomed in you can't even see the one tree, and you're just kind of... stuck there.

I often wondered if my general frustration with Mother 3's aggressive tone was related to the fact I knew some of its biggest late game emotional beats 30 hours in advance. 

Would its numerous Earthbound references still feel so patronizing if I didn't know what was coming? Or would all of its cute little surprises and shocking revelations make for a more enjoyable game over the long term?

Maybe the whole thing started off on the wrong foot in general. It's definitely a choice to play a game about characters processing the death of their mother while you yourself are processing the death of your mother. Characters in the game itself get bitter about this, so doesn't it make sense that I would be, too? Again, expectation is everything, and sometimes you just wake up on the wrong side of the bed. It could have just been a bad time in my life to experience this story.

And to some degree that's true, because the thing about Mother 3 is that I just didn't get it for the longest time.

Despite a big rant about spoiler culture just now, I can't talk about this without spoiling Mother 3's last big secret, because it turns out to be central to the game's entire theme. However, in my defense, I am giving you a big warning: If you've somehow read this far and still care about preserving the game's final mystery (and parts of the ending to Earthbound, too), this is your signal to turn back now. 

Okay. Ready?

So while the people of Tazmily are comfortable and protective of their newly developed suburban lifestyle, past the game's halfway point they all start talking about a far off land: the big city. It's a place where dreams are made, or so they're told. And as Mother 3 starts down its home stretch, Lucas and friends return to find Tazmily deserted. Everyone who's anyone has left for New Pork City. 

The reality of New Pork City is a lot more depressing than the dream, but then it always would be. The residents of Tazmily find it more trashy than cool. A lot of the theme park rides are broken, and those that still function are kind of dangerous. There's even open sewer vents leaking noxious gasses. And at the center of it all stands the massive Empire Porky Building.

Lucas and his friends are only allowed into the building when the time is right. Until then, you have to wander around New Pork City and explore. 

Those open vents turn out to be an invitation to enter the sewer when Lucas's dog, Boney, becomes lost. Reuniting with Boney leads you to discover a secret entrance to the less glamorous parts of New Pork City, and you find yourself in an old, run down apartment complex. Though the hall is strewn with trash and grime, at the very end you find an apartment belonging to a strange man named Leder. 

You initially meet Leder very early in the game. He's an older resident of Tazmily known for being unnaturally tall -- well over four times taller than most characters in the game. And to most people living in Tazmily, Leder is known to never speak. His only job is acting as a human watch tower, armed with a bell to be rung when there is danger. 

Leder's apartment in New Pork City is reasonably sized for a single person, with two floors, but for a man of his stature, Leder makes the space look tiny. However, by climbing up to the second floor, Lucas can now finally talk to Leder face to face for the first time. As it turns out, Leder can talk, but by being so tall, most people couldn't hear him. Not that it mattered much, given Leder had taken a vow of silence in order to protect the true origin of Tazmily Village. Given the circumstances, and considering Lucas is old enough now, Leder believes it is finally time to learn the truth.

The truth being that despite Mother 3's outward appearance of taking place in a fantasy land full of dragons and chimera, it is in fact a distant future earth. Or, well... what's left of it. 

According to Leder's retelling, after bracing itself for the apocalypse, humanity finally found itself at the end of the world as we know it. Facing mutually assured extinction, a select group of individuals boarded something known as "The White Ship" and traveled to the furthest, most secretive location on earth in order to escape destruction. Once they arrived at this mysterious island, those people used a device to erase the memories of their past lives. 

The idea was to start over from scratch, free from the bonds that lead to the destruction of the old world. And so, the simple farming village of Tazmily was born. It is very likely that Lucas is one of the first generation of people born and raised in Tazmily.

For years, Leder not only kept watch over Tazmily Village, but over its people, as well. Entrusted as one of the only people who knew the truth.

Tazmily Village was a success. Its people lived in peace and prosperity, free from greed and power. However, one day, a man named Porky appeared. Porky was not from this world -- not from the old world, and not a part of this new one, either. Using the Phase Distortion machine from the end of Earthbound, Porky had been carving a swath of chaos through all of time and space. Having been defeated and ejected from pretty much every other reality, Porky eventually found himself here: the last, most defenseless place on the timeline. 

With nobody around to tell him no, Porky set about treating the island like his own personal playground. He used the Phase Distortion Machine to pull in creatures from alternate dimensions, he used forbidden science to establish an army and build factories. And, once Porky became aware of Tazmily and the truth of "The White Ship", he made it one of his goals to restore their memories and further exploit their desires.

Leder's story recontextualizes all of Mother 3. It's not a game about people being corrupted by modern society; instead, it's a game about people being unable to escape it. That, despite their best efforts to run away from it, forget about it, and start over, who they are still catches up to them. When the residents of Tazmily brand Lucas as a traitor, they aren't doing it drunk on their shiny new toys, it's more that their old habits are re-asserting themselves. Not a people being corrupted, but a people who simply had their existing nature freed. Human beings acting like human beings.

This recontextualizes Porky's role in the story, too. More than being the harbinger of nostalgia, Porky takes advantage of Tazmily's amnesia to rewrite history to his benefit. His shrines to Earthbound memorabilia are less about making us remember what happened in the previous game and more about establishing his version of events, where he can refer to Ness, Paula, Jeff and Poo as his "precious friends" instead of what they actually were: the band of kids that stopped him from bringing about the eradication of the known universe. 

Instead of shunning the past, Mother 3 is telling us that not only is running away from our history impossible, but in trying to do so, we open ourselves up to an even worse and easily exploitable weakness where guys like Porky get to catalyze their twisted version of history. Only by moving forward, unafraid, with courage and the full knowledge of where we came from, can we create a truly better world. We cannot bury who we used to be; we must accept and grow beyond it. 

There is no stronger denouement to this ideal than the game's very, very end. 

All throughout the game, Lucas has dealt with two of Porky's highest ranking officers. The first one being Fassad, who brings commerce and greed to the people of Tazmily. The other one, someone I haven't really mentioned until now, is only known as "The Masked Man." Mother 3 pits The Masked Man against Lucas as sort of a rival -- he's one of the small handful of humans you meet able to use PSI abilities, and most of them are identical to what Lucas can do.

In the lead up to actually meeting Porky in the flesh for the first time, Lucas finally catches up with his dad, Flint. Lucas hasn't seen his father in years, not since the incident after their mother's funeral that broke up their family. And yet Mother 3 treats his reappearance as strangely casual. There's no big, emotional reunion. Flint and Lucas barely even acknowledge it. Flint is just here now, another NPC milling about with the residents of Tazmily.

On the way to the final showdown, Flint will suddenly ask you to stay behind. He plans to face Porky alone. 

And this is probably supposed to raise all kinds of strange questions. Could Flint be the Masked Man? After all, if Lucas has PSI abilities, maybe that's a trait that runs in the family. Maybe he inherited it from Flint, and that's why The Masked Man has all the same abilities. 

But just one or two rooms later, you find Flint completely laid out. He faced Porky and The Masked Man and came away defeated. It now falls on Lucas and his friends to stop them. Before Lucas leaves, Flint offers one more piece of information for us: The Masked Man, the rival Lucas has faced almost the entire game, is actually his twin brother, Claus. 

Once Porky is successfully dealt with, the final battle of Mother 3 comes down to brother versus brother. Claus, the boy who ran from his tragedy, and Lucas, the hero, the boy who became a stronger person by overcoming that tragedy.

That's it. That's everything Mother 3 is trying to say. It doesn't get much clearer than that.

Watching the credits roll, I couldn't help but think back to earlier in the game. There I was, having just arrived in New Pork City, and I was talking to my friends about how it had taken me close to three years to finish Mother 3. I'd only play the game in fits and starts because I didn't really like it, but I was forcing myself through it anyway. 

One friend told me, "If you haven't enjoyed the first 25 hours, then it's not like the last five or ten is going to change your mind." 

It really cannot be understated how talking to Leder completely rewrote my entire perspective on this game. But then you also have to wonder: how many more people were in the same boat I was and didn't keep going? People who got fed up with feeling like the game was bitter and patronizing and just gave up? 

I knew there must have been something special in this game. You have to figure that, given the circumstances (sequel to a 10+ year old RPG, only released in Japan), total lifetime sales figures for Mother 3 are probably under five million copies. Probably under two million, if I'm being honest. That's still in the realm of success, especially for 2006, but Nintendo is also a company that deals in games with 20 million, 40 million, even 60 and 80 million plus sales. Mother 3 is some very small potatoes for them. 

Despite such a comparatively modest success, Mother 3's influence feels hard to ignore. From fueling skits on Robot Chicken to Adventure Time and Undertale's whole... everything, Mother 3 (and the wider franchise as a whole) is extremely beloved by many, even if it doesn't do record breaking sales numbers. 

And that's before you figure in the whole fan translation angle, too. Everything about Mother 3 screams something that should be niche, and yet it's downright prolific.

It demanded more respect than giving up before seeing the credits roll. If I had quit upon reaching New Pork City, I would have missed this game's whole redemption arc. 

I suppose, then, that just makes this the chronicle of a long, difficult, emotional journey. One I originally felt like I needed to do more than I actually wanted to. That in itself is just another one of those many things adults just have to deal with, right? That's in keeping with the themes of the game.

And, ultimately, there is light at the end of this tunnel. I guess it's not really about charging forward with courage, it's more that as long as you hold on to yourself, everything will be okay. Everyone has their tragedies. But closing yourself off from tragedy or running away from it isn't going to fix you. Your love is what will save you. 

The love you share with family. The love you share with friends. The love you share with the world. 

Love meant Flint never gave up trying to save Claus, even as that same boy tried to kill him. 

Love led Kumatora, Duster and Boney to stay with Lucas no matter how strange or frightening things became. Together, they faced deadly mutants, the darkest hallucinations, and even had to contend with the possibility that all human life on their planet might cease to exist.

Love was Lucas never abandoning the people of Tazmily, even as they shunned him. 

Love will provide you with a strength beyond anything else in this universe. No matter how much adult life beats you down, love will always be the single greatest and most simple thing we all have. Rich or poor, old or young, love is the power that binds us all. It deserves to be cultivated, protected, and celebrated. Love heals all. Without it, we cease to be human. And believing in love is what takes the most courage.

But only through love can we find the way forward.

[harryistheonlyoneforme]

will you upload ruin again 👀

Ruin(1)*

OMG WAIT YOURE GENIUS

pairing: gynaecologist harry x innocent reader

warnings: smut, corruption, sort of forced orgasm but not really kinda idk

summary: an innocent YN goes into her very first gynaecology appointment unsure of what she should expect. her visit is certainly out of the norm

~

YN is sitting nervously on the exam table, reading all the posters on the wall as her leg is unable to stop bouncing. Her nails have been bitten below the skin and goosebumps are all over her arms and legs.

The second the nurse came in and told her to undress from the waist down and place the towel over her legs, YN's heart went into overdrive.

She'd never done this before, this was her first gynaecologist visit. She's been taking deep breaths, trying to calm her nerves but nothing is working.

She looks over at her pretty yellow dress and ponders leaving out now and just trying again another day. Internally scolding herself, YN decides to stay, and if she gets too afraid she'll leave.

After about five minutes of dreading the rest of the appointment, she hears a gentle knock on the door. Her heart practically stops, muttering a small 'come in'.

As the door opens, she expects to see an old, wrinkly man enter the room to look inside her vagina, but what she sees immediately takes her breath away. She sees a man no older that 30 years old enter the room, short curly hair and green eyes. He smiles at her, dimples on display.

Her heart stutters as her eyes travel down his body, stopping at his hands that he's rubbing hand sanitizer into. "Hello, there. You must be YN. I'm Dr. Styles, but you can call me Harry" he says, reaching out to shake her hand. YN greets him and introduces herself as Harry picks up her visit chart, plopping down on the small rolling chair and sliding toward her.

"Okay, it says here that you're just in for a routine checkup. Is that right?" he asks, eyes skimming over the paper before him. He looks up to see her nodding at him, a playful scowl settling on his lips. "I'm gonna need your words, honey" he says.

Even more nervous than before, YN mutters a soft 'yes, sir' and Harry can immediately feel his cock twitching in his slacks.

"I'm just joking, Love" he chuckles, standing from the chair. "Alright, I'm gonna need you to place your feet into the stirrups, and once I wash my hands we can get going" he says, helping her spread her legs and get them into position. He can't help but glance down at her vagina, a fair amount of dark hair covering her pubic area.

Fuck, Harry has never been more turned on in his life. He literally sees vaginas and beautiful women every day, but there's just something about YN that makes him feral. He can even see her puffy clit peeking out from between her folds, wanting nothing more than to swipe his tongue through them to get a taste of her.

"Okay, on your chart is says that you're a virgin. Is that correct?" he asks, getting a small nod from her. "Alright, I just needed to know for the size speculum we should start off with, nothing to worry about" he says, just thinking about stretching out her virgin pussy and pounding into her until she's creaming around his cock.

Harry shakes his head, trying to rid his mind of the crude thoughts about his patient, heading to the sink to wash his hands thoroughly before grabbing a pair of gloves and snapping them on.

Once he's all done, he sits back in the low chair and slides all the way over to her, placing his hands on her knees gently. A small frown makes its way onto his face as he feels how tense she is.

"Hey, YN, is this your first time at the gynaecologist?" he asks softly, not wanting to embarrass her. She nods gently, and Harry's heart aches at the scared girl before him. "Well that's alright, I'm just gonna need you to relax a bit for me, can you do that?" he asks.

She relaxes slightly beneath his hands, but it isn't enough, so Harry takes matters into his own hands. "Honey, I'm sorry, but you're not relaxed enough. If you're not relaxed enough, the speculum is going to hurt going in. Do I have your permission to help you relax?" he asks, a small amount of guilt running through him at what he was about to do to the poor, innocent girl.

She nods and he sighs, his blood pumping through his body quickly at what he was about to do. Reaching up, he runs his hands up and down her thighs, massaging them gently. With each stroke, he gets closer and closer to her center.

"Okay, honey, I'm gonna spread you open a bit, okay?" he asks, looking up at her to make sure she's okay. When he sees that she is, he spreads her folds gently with his fingers, a small groan leaving him at the precious area. His cock gets even harder as he sees her tiny hole, just begging to be stretched by him.

With the spreading of her lower lips, Harry can see all of her puffy clit, just wanting to take it into his mouth and suck on it until she can't take anymore. Clearing his throat, he reaches between the folds and presses a finger directly onto her clit. YN gasps at the feeling, shock running through her body at the unfamiliar feeling.

Before she can even get used to it, Harry is rubbing around the head, getting a moan out of her. Her head is thrown back against the parchment paper of the exam table, wetness starting to accumulate between her folds. Harry notices immediately since it's in his line of sight.

"Oh, poor baby. Is it getting all wet and tingly down there?" he coos, chuckling when he gets a yes and a moan from her. "It's okay, baby. That's what we want. That's what's gonna help you relax" he says, applying a bit more pressure to the throbbing nub before pulling back and taking off his gloves.

Once they're off, he swipes a finger through her folds before working on her clit once more, YN sobbing out in pleasure at the feeling. "Does that feel good, honey?" he asks, speeding up a bit. Her eyes are squeezed shut and she's whining out a yes, nodding her head furiously. "I know, baby. It's almost over" he says, rubbing at the exact same pace and using the same amount of pressure to get her to orgasm.

"Harry, wait. I feel something in my tummy. It burns" she whines, squirming to avoid his ministrations.

"Good, baby. That's what we want" he says, placing his other hand on her hips to hold her down. She's screaming out in pleasure as he forces her to take everything he's giving her. After a minute more of rubbing her sensitive clit, she's stiffening up and her hole is clenching around nothing as she cums from just him rubbing her clit.

"Yes, baby. Just like that. Cumming so good for me" he praises, still rubbing her clit until she's all the way down. Once she's down, he removes his hand and licks all of her essence off of his fingers, moaning at the taste. He watches her as the aftershocks of her very first orgasm shoot through her body, a smile on his face at the things running through his mind.

Harry is going to ruin this sweet girl.

~

[yelenasdiary]

https://www.tumblr.com/yelenasdiary/723061122898477056/send-me-a-pairing-and-a-line-of-dialogue-and-ill?source=share

“I just really need to have you here right now.”

Maybe reader was about to give birth? And she wants Yelena on her side.

Military!Yelena x Reader

-👸

Coming Home

Pairing: Military! Yelena Belova x Fem! Nurse! Reader

Summary: Being married to a soldier and expecting your first child wasn’t easy but you coped.

Angst | Fluff | Mentions of War | Pregnancy | Childbirth | AU Where Doctors Can Combined 2 Women’s Genetics | 2.6K |

Translations: printsessa (princess),

AC: This is literally the only variant of Yelena that I can see having a child and as always, I used the wheel of names to pick the gender! I hope you enjoy this! x 

As a nurse, you knew the symptoms and you knew it was best to get a second opinion before letting yourself get excited and sharing the news with your wife. So, when your doctor returned with your tests results and a comforting smile, it was no surprise that your eyes began to fill with tears. 

"Are you okay Mrs Belova?" your doctor asked, unsure if the news something good or bad. You grabbed a tissue from the box on her desk and wiped your tears while nodding, "I'm just fine" you smiled, "I'm just very happy" you added. Your doctor smiled, "you had me worried for a moment" she chuckled, "go home, tell your wife. I will make a follow up appointment within a few weeks for a check-up and to make sure everything is going smoothly" she added with a smile, you nodded again as you stood from your chair. 

"Thank you so much, for everything!" You shook her hand. 

"Congratulations" your doctor smiled once more as she shook your hand. 

The whole drive home your mind was racing on how you wanted to tell Yelena the news. Getting to this moment wasn't easy and it took a lot of work and time, but you wouldn't change any of it for the world. Opening the door to your home, you were greeted with the smell of a roast dinner and your two dogs running from the living room to greet you. 

Fanny and Gizmo wagged their tails like crazy as you greeted them with excitement. Fanny was the first dog you and Yelena adopted while Gizmo was a rescue dog that Yelena brought back from one of her deployments. It took a little time for Gizmo to warm up to you and Fanny, but it's been three years since she was brought home and now she's inseparable from Fanny. 

"Mmm" you hummed as you entered the kitchen, "dinner smells amazing" you added as Yelena turned around and smiled before gently pulling you in for a kiss. "I wanted to give you a break from cooking" she replied but something in her tone of voice told you she was hiding something. 

"Is that all?" you asked, giving her a soft smile. Her eyes dropped as she ran her tongue over her lips, "I've gotta go back" she admits and just like that, worry took over your once excited mind. "But you just got back" you frowned slightly, wrapping your arms around the back of her neck. Being married to a soldier was never going to be easy, you knew that but when she got back, you knew you'd have some time with her before the next deployment. 

"I know, but they need me" Yelena replied, looking into your eyes. You could see she was also disappointed. You kissed her once more while playing with the baby hairs on the back of her neck, "I need to tell you something" you spoke softly not wanting that excitement to fade away so quickly. 

"What's wrong?" Yelena asked with worry in her tone. You led her to the dining room and sat across from her, your original plan on how you wanted to tell her the news was no longer a thought. You reached for her hands and smiled softly at her touch. "Baby is everything okay?" she asked, her eyes searching yours for an answer.

"Everything is fine my love, but, when I tell you this, I want you to know I'm telling you because I want too, not because you have to go back, okay?" 

Yelena nodded without saying a word, her full attention was on you. 

"I wasn't out just now having a coffee with a co-worker" you admitted, your stomach fluttered with nerves. "I was at the doctors; I had a couple of tests done and they all came back positive" you added. 

Yelena's eyes shot open and a smile tugged at her lips causing you to smile widely at her as tears filled your eyes once more, "I'm pregnant" the words flew out of your mouth. Yelena jumped from her seat before rushing over to you and picking you up in her arms making you squeal. 

"How far along are you?" your wife asked when she gently placed you back on your feet.

"I'm 6 weeks, I just wanted to be 100% sure before I said anything" 

"And you're feeling okay? Everything is okay? What did the doctor say?" All these questions came flying out of her mouth making you giggle at her excitement. 

"I'm fine, some morning sickness here and there but I'm good, everything is good, we have an appointment for our first ultrasound in 2 weeks"

Yelena sighed, "I won't be here" 

You cupped her face gently, placing a kiss on her forehead, "I know baby, but it's okay because I'll get a tape of it and we can watch it over and over when you come home"

Yelena nodded, even though the thought of not being there for the first ultrasound disappointed her, she didn't let that take away the happiness and feeling of joy she was having right now. 

----

It's been three months since Yelena was deployed again, the two of you spoke every chance you got, and you updated her on everything about the pregnancy so far. You had decided it was best for you and the baby to step down from your military duties as a nurse and continue to work at the veteran's clinic. The decision also gave Yelena peace of mind that you were safe. 

At 12 weeks, Yelena was bursting to tell Nat about the news. You knew the moment she had told her older sister because Natasha would come to see you every day to make sure you were doing okay and if you needed anything. You didn't mind as much because you knew this was how Yelena was able to protect you from anything being so far away. 

You were waiting at the airport with your hand gently resting on your 5-month showing bump when Yelena came walking out of the arrivals with the softest smile on her lips. She dropped her bag at her feet and wrapped her arms around you instantly, hugging you tightly but not too tight of course. "I missed you so much!" you whispered while tears of happiness filled your eyes. 

Yelena pulled back slightly and wiped your tears before she found both of her hands on your stomach, "I missed you both" she smiled, placing a kiss on your lips, "the webcam didn't do you justice, you're so beautiful" she spoke. You couldn't help but raise a brow, "is that you saying I look bigger in person?" you asked with a playful smirk. Yelena's eyes shot open for a moment as she shook her head, "n-no" she replied before chuckling. 

"You're lucky I love you" you jokingly rolled your eyes, "I have a surprise for you and we have about an hour to get there" you added. Yelena looked at you slightly confused, "what have you done?" she asked. 

"Well, I asked to push back my last ultrasound until today, I have footage of the others for us to watch tonight but I thought we could found out the sex today, together" you explained. 

"You want to know the sex? Are you sure?"

"Yes. Baby, you haven't been able to be there for the others and I want to experience this one with you as our first. I only have you home for a few days before you go back an-" you paused trying to fight back your tears. Since falling pregnant, you've found yourself crying a lot more easily than before. "I w-want you to k-know what we're having in case som-"

"Hey" Yelena pulled you into her chest as she rubbed your back. It was clear now that this was something that had been on your mind for some time and Yelena wasn't sure on how to ease your mind. She placed a kiss on the top of your head before gently making you look up at her, "I'm glad you want to know the sex because I don't think I could wait, even if I wanted too" she said with another soft smile as she wiped your tears once again. "Come on, we don't want to be late" she added before picking up her bag and throwing it over her shoulder. 

Yelena's eyes were glued to the small black and white screen as the doctor took down some notes. "That's our baby" Yelena smiled proudly, you brought her hand to your lips, kissing the top of her hand as she watched every movement the unborn baby was doing. 

"Would you two like to know the sex?" the doctor looked at you both, the two of you nodded with excitement before the room filled with silence as the doctor doubled checked everything. Yelena squeezed your hand with excitement when the doctor looked at you both again. 

"Congratulations, you're having a baby girl" she smiled. 

----

Yelena went back for a month while she carried out her duties before requesting time off to be there for you during the remainder of your pregnancy. It wasn't easy for her to get the time off but given how loyal she is to her duties; she was given the time off and a little extra. 

You took maternity leave from work and were soaking up the time you now had with your wife, the two of you decorated the nursery, painting the walls in a lavender like purple and Yelena put together the crib while you placed family photos on the walls. Everything was going well until Yelena was called to go back, this time it was urgent but of course, to keep you from worrying she kept that detail to herself. 

Now here you were, in the middle of your 8th month of pregnancy waving off your wife while Natasha and Kate stood beside you. 

"She'll be home before you know it" Nat spoke in hopes to comfort you, but you shook your head at her words, "you don't know that" you replied before making your way back to the car. 

The last few weeks of your pregnancy you thought would be very different, but you found yourself preparing your bag for the hospital alone, getting nervous about giving birth and making sure you everything was ready for when you brought home your daughter. Natasha decided to come stay with you for the remainder of your pregnancy, but it wasn't the same, you wanted your wife, you needed her. 

Your water broke around 10:15pm on a Friday night as you were gently rubbing your swollen stomach and talking to your unborn baby about her mama and how much you missed her and wish she was here right now. Natasha took you to the hospital and waited by your side. 

"I need to call Lena" you looked to Natasha who nodded, "we'll try her and see if she picks up" she replied as she pulled her phone from her back pocket. 

"Natasha, is everything okay?!" 

"Y/n wants to talk to you, can you talk?" 

"Yeah, of course, put her on"

Nat handed you the phone and stepped out of the room to give you some privacy. 

"Lena?"

"Hey darling, I got Natasha's messages, how you are you doing? How's our printsessa?"

"We're okay for now, a few contractions here and there but the midwife says I still have a few centimetres to go before they'll take me to the delivery room. I need to know you're okay, that you're going to come home" 

"Baby, I need you to focus on you and our beautiful girl. I'm fine, I'm not going anywhere, okay?" 

"I just really need to have you here right now"

"I know baby, I'm here, I promise"

"But you're not Lena! You're over there, you should be here by my side" 

"I am darling, I'm going to stay on the phone the whole time & I know it's not the same, I wish I could be there, I'd do anything to be there right now"

Yelena was right, it wasn't the same but knowing you still had her somehow, made things seem just a little better. 

----

After hours of labor, your daughter finally came into the world, screaming and healthy. You heard a quiet sob on the other end of the phone when your daughters first cries entered the world, you knew she was just a happy as you were, and you couldn't wait for Yelena to meet her. 

Natasha smiled at her sister when she entered the waiting room of the hospital, "about time!" she teased the blonde. 

"Getting a flight home was hell, how is she?" Yelena placed her bag on the empty chair besides Natasha. 

"She did amazing, she's resting now" 

"and th-"

"She's perfect, I haven't seen her yet but the midwife told me she arrived healthy and with a set of lungs" Natasha interrupted her sister. Yelena smiled softly, her original plan was to surprise you and be here just in time for the birth but sometimes things just don't work that way but she was just happy she was here now. "Why haven't you seen her yet?" Yelena asked. 

"She deserves to meet her mama first before she meets me and knows that I'm her cool aunt and she won't ever tell you but, I'll be her favourite" she replied with a smirk causing Yelena to raise a brow, "Ha!" she fake chuckled at her sister's joke before the room went silent. 

"Well? What are you waiting for? Go!" Natasha gave Yelena a gently push towards the room you were in, "Room 4, I'll be here" she added before sitting back down next to Yelena's bag. 

When Yelena entered your room, she couldn't help but smile softly to herself when she saw you fast asleep. She wandered over to you quietly and placed a gentle kiss on your forehead just before a nurse popped her head in. 

"Hi, sorry, there's meant to be no visitors" she whispered careful not to wake you. Yelena turned and faced her, "I'm her wife" she replied. 

"Oh, I'm sorry" the nurse smiled, "would you like me to bring up the baby? She's due for a feeding an hour" she added. Yelena nodded knowing it was only a moment before she would meet her daughter. 

----

Stirring in your sleep, your eyes fluttered awake to the soft sound of a familiar voice. "and that's how I met your mommy. Between you and I, I think I fell in love with her the first time I saw her, but don't tell her that. That's our secret!" Yelena spoke softly with your daughter in her arms looking up at her mama as if she truly understood a single word Yelena was saying. 

"I heard that" you smiled at the sight, "You're here" you added as Yelena carefully walked over to you and sitting on the edge of your bed. "I tried to get here in time for you but trying to get a flight wasn't working, I'm sorry" she replied as she looked up at you. 

"You're here now and I'm sorry I snapped over the phone" 

"Don't be sorry, none of that matters, not now. Not when we have this beautiful girl" Yelena smiled softly once more, "she's so tiny" she added.

"She did not feel that tiny coming out, trust me" you joked as you looked at your daughter falling asleep in Yelena's arms. "Have you made it official yet? Her name?" you asked.

"You sure?" Yelena questioned, you nodded, "I am"

"Well in that case, welcome to the world, Natalia Katherine Belova"

Taglist: @red1culous | @bentleywolf29 | @jeyramarie | @lissaaaa145 | @high--power | @parkerdaramitzzzz | @mmmmokdok | @wackymcstupid | @kiwiana145 | @valiantmugcowboyscissors | @observeowl  | @nattyolw | @ripofflizzie | @get-the-fuck-outta-here | @goofy-goonie | @makegoodchoices | @apollo2907 | @marvelfan98 | @wandaroman0ff | @dumb-fawkin-bitch | @lovelyy-moonlight | @santana1437 | @fluffyblanketgecko | @puta1 | @inluvwithfictionalwomen | @tintedrose12 | @jaymieflorissssssss | @tita001 | @youralphawolf72 | @crescent-witch | @randomnessbecausewhynot | @natashamaximoff69 | @a-dorkier-book-keeper | @hehehehannahthings | @secrettoallofyou | @romantic-slaps-on-the-asss | @marvel-fan-2021 | @mmmmokdok |  @riveramorylunar | @ripofflizzie | @toldthatdevil | @itsmv3 | @katiemay-025 | @maria-403 | @boredandneedfanfics | @wandamaximoffspuppup | 

[dancingtotuyo]

1. tame the ghosts in my head

Woman | Joel Miller X Reader

Series Rating: Mature/Explicit

Chapter Summary: Joel Miller finds an unexpected face upon his return to Jackson.

Tags: Joel Miller x Reader. Age Gap. TV show characters. Mostly Cannon compliant for show and game.

Chapter Warnings: references to canon type violence, injuries, swearing, medical exam, illusions to loss & grief.

Words: 2437

Series Masterlist | Author Masterlist | Playlist

Familiarity is a foreign thing in this world. A priceless gift from the universe if you’re deemed to be so worthy, it’s a treasure to be treated as so, but when one is lucky enough to be chosen, fear tarnishes it. Gifts only last so long before they are taken away, leaving only grief and loneliness in their wake, making you wonder if it was really a gift at all or just a cruel prank. Yet, it gets you everytime, roping you into its trap.

It might be 20 years since you’ve laid eyes on him, but that stance, those brown curls, you would recognize them anywhere You spent the younger years of your life committing him to memory. You feel the trap tugging you toward him. You can’t be caught up again. You tell yourself you won’t be.

“Joel!”

He turns around, dark brown eyes meeting yours. He doesn’t expect anyone else to know his name here. Why does it sound familiar to him?

It all escapes from the recess of your mind. That all-encompassing file titled “before,” flies open. Memories come flooding back of him and of Sarah. You’re only conscious of the first trap, but there are others lying in wait. You and Tommy talk about her sometimes, but this brings up so much more.

He looks confused at first. You watch him wrack his brain. He recognizes you, but from where? You’re not the kid he once knew. The fresh, doe-eyed look of a 20-something new graduate is replaced by the 40-something worn woman you’ve survived into. Finally, it dawns on him.

“Well, I’ll be damned.” He walks over to you, disbelief written across his features.

“Hi.” You smile.

“Hi.”

It’s an awkward thing. Do you hug? Shake hands? You were Sarah’s babysitter from the time she was 6 until she complained she didn’t need one once she turned 13. The two of you still hung out when you were back from school. Joel usually slipped you a $20. You would’ve done it for free, never expected the cash, but you were also a broke college student. You never turned it down.

The lure of a familiar face is strong. The two of you settle on a comfortable distance. Closer than strangers, further than family.

“Tommy told me you were here at Christmas. He’s been worried about you.”

Joel nods. “It’s been a long couple of months.”

“Just months?” Your brows shoot up.

Joel fights back a smile. He remembers the smartass remarks you used to give Tommy when he teased you while you waited for Joel to cough up the cash he owed.

Flashes of coming home to pillow forts and Sarah’s giggles, arts and crafts with glitter that littered the house for weeks afterwards, and the countless other memories play in his mind.The memories send a pang through his chest, but he can handle them now, and here is another person who holds those precious memories.

“Relatively speaking of course.” The smile breaks through on his face. It’s starting to feel less foreign to him these past few days.

Joel wasn’t the most smiley person when you knew him 20 years ago. It suits him, you think. Another lure. Another diversion you don’t catch because you are so aware of the trap you’re sure it set, you don’t see the other one hiding. You won’t let the universe give you another person just to take them away.

“Of course.” You return his smile.

“I’m supposed to get checked out at the clinic. I think they gave me bad directions. Either that or my memory is shit.”

“I was just headed there. You can follow me.” Nod your head in the general direction.

“You’re a nurse.” He seems slightly unsure.

“Memory can’t be all that shitty, I guess.” You shrug. “If you call 3 months in the trauma unit being a nurse that is.”

“You got the education. I remember that.”

The keys jingle in your hand as you unlock the doors. The lights buzz to life with a flip of a switch. The slim medical supplies you have are neatly organized on shelves. It’s enough to care for basic needs. Scout teams sometimes bring back supplies from other places when they go on longer expeditions. All medications are safely locked away. You have the only key. You count the meds on a weekly basis with Maria and go over your meticulous logs. There’s a board-certified doctor in town. He practiced family medicine before the outbreak. He’s good with routine stuff but didn’t want a key. Too much pressure he claims.

You deal with the big stuff. Gaping wounds, infections, whatever it was that resembled surgery in this world. You play doctor, nurse, surgeon, and midwife. It falls on your shoulders and what you can remember from school. There are a few medical journals and textbooks on your shelves. Dr. Pooley has taught you a lot, but his knowledge is more outdated, more about family medicine. More often than not, you fail. People remind you; you do the best you can, you’re not trained for this, supplies are limited. Sometimes it helps, sometimes it doesn’t.

“You can take a seat.” You nod toward the medical table.

Joel nods, hopping up. “Did Ellie stop in last night? She said she would.”

“Yeah she did.” You wash your hands with soap. “Seems like a good kid. She’s got quite a mouth.”

Joel chuckles. “She seem okay?”

“For someone with two bites on her arm, yeah.”

He looks up, his eyes a mix of fear and concern and then it goes away. “Tommy told you?”

“Yeah… wanted to make sure I was the one who checked her out.”

“He tell anyone else?”

“Probably Maria.” You shrug and watch the uneasiness leave him. “I won’t tell anyone, Joel. It’ll either get people's hopes up or cause a witch hunt. Besides, doctor patient confidentiality and all that.”

He looks relieved. “Thanks.”

You nod. “Now, take your shirt off.”

He raises an eyebrow. You roll your eyes.

“I swear if you give me some snarky comment, I will stab you with a scalpel.”

He cringes feeling fantom pain in his scarred abdomen. “Noted.”

“You okay?” You catch the twinge on his face, stare at the gash on his neck.

“Yeah… it’s just…” He sighs, slowly unbuttoning his shirt.

For a moment, you are 22 years old again and sense of medical professionalism ceases to exist. It’s embarrassing really, the crush you had on him. Though, it’s just as embarrassing that it’s still affecting you. 20 years ago, you thought the world was more likely to end than anything remotely close to this happening. It seems Ironic now.

The nurse in you returns before his shirt slides off his shoulders. Your eyes go wide as you spot the big, angry scar on Joel’s abdomen. “What happened?”

Your fingers press around the scar, inspecting it. It’s cruel and jagged, still pink, but healed. It’s several months old and there’s no signs of infection.

“Your fingers are cold.”

You roll your eyes. “What happened?”

“We came across some raiders. I took them out, but not before one of ‘em got me with his broken bat.”

“Fuck, Joel.” You press a little firmer, searching for any signs of sensitivity or irritation.

It hits him that he’s never heard you curse. He bites back the tilt of his lips. He doesn’t think you would appreciate it. He never teased you like Tommy did. He was more of a quiet observer before the outbreak. He still considers himself so, but there’s an urge to tease you now. Maybe he wants to steal a slice of pre-outbreak life back.

“Does this hurt at all?” You continue to press all around, this time looking in his eyes. You’re firmly in his personal space now.

He never got to look at your eyes this closely before. They’re beautiful. He reads so much swirling in them. He still sees bits of the 22 year old he knew, freshly graduated and eager to help a world so close to damnation. He sees the shadows floating around, the trauma of living in this world. He sees it in others all the time. He sees it in himself everytime he looks in the mirror, but he wants to know what caused the darkness in yours.

He catches the fine lines that have started to age your face, and a few silver hairs beginning to weave through your natural hair color. He thinks they suit you.

“Joel.” Your voice is firm, shaking him out of his thoughts. “Any pain? Discomfort?”

He shakes his head. You let out a low whistle. “You’re one lucky bastard. It’s a bang up job on the stitches, but it did its job.”

“It got infected. Ellie managed to get her hands on some penicillin.”

His eyes darken. There’s more to the story, but you know better than to ask. One doesn't just “manage” to get their hands on penicillin, especially out here.

Your eyes scan his abdomen, but it is purely medical this time. Joel has several old scars covering his back and abdomen consistent with what you expect. The gash on his neck has already scabbed over, a couple of days old. You do your best to clean it without opening it back up.

You bring your stethoscope to his heart. It thuds in your ears. He breathes in at your instructions: long and steady in, long and steady out. His breath tingles in your ear. Your eyes scan up his neck and face. You think he might be just as handsome now as he was 20 years ago. He meets your eyes and you snap back to the tasks at hand. Heat rises over the back of your neck. You pull away before it reaches your cheeks.

Joel keeps quiet the whole time. His eyes track your every movement; a hazard of living in this world. It’s a hazard you learned to drop when within the walls of the settlement, though it took you years to do so.

His blood pressure is a little high, nothing too concerning or surprising. It’s not like you have medication to help. “How old are you?”

Your eyes meet again. “56.”

You wrack your brain. You helped Sarah with his birthday on numerous occasions. “September 26, right?”

“You remember?”

“I believe I helped put on several of your birthday parties.” You crack a smile, writing it down on the form. You have one for each member of the settlement in case of emergencies. “Shit… that’s-”

“Yeah, I know.” Joel crosses his arms. He hasn’t put his shirt back on yet. His biceps bulge, drawing your eye toward them. It hits you; maybe adult you also has a crush on Joel Miller. You shove that thought to the side. You’re avoiding that trap too.

Joel catches your eye. You swallow, hoping he didn’t catch you staring. “You can put your shirt back on.”

He nods. You don’t watch as he buttons it up. You study the file in front of you like it’s the next great American novel. “Do you know your blood type?”

“O negative.”

“You absolutely sure?”

“You calling me a liar?”

“No, but I’d hate to tap you on the shoulder asking for you to transfuse blood and the person drops dead because you had O positive or some other type.”

“I’m sure.”

You nod, marking it the chart. Joel’s shirt is back on. You can’t decide if you’re relieved or not, but something else catches your eye as he struggles with the last button.

“Hold out your hands.”

His eyes roll but obeys. You visually inspect them. Nothing seems wrong at sight.

“Now make a fist.”

He does, internally cursing when his right hand shakes and shutters. It still doesn’t close all the way. Taking all those fireflies out the day before doesn’t help matters. He eyes you, but you’re completely focused on his hands.

You place your index and middle fingers in his palms. “Now squeeze.”

You feel the fight in his right hand. Its grip is loose compared to the left.

“I broke it back in September.”

“How?” You take his hand. It’s warm and calloused. You ignore that part away as you feel through the bones and tendons searching for misplaced bones or built up scar tissue.

“Took out a Fedra guard leaving Boston QZ.”

“Define took out.” Your inspection continues.

Joel shifts looking away from you. It gives you a good look at his profile. Your eyes flicker up the muscles of his neck, his strong jaw and the scruff that covers it. You catch sight of a faded scar on his temple. He didn’t have that 20 years ago… you kick yourself for remembering that.

“It was just a hairline. Healed up fine on its own.”

You raise an eyebrow. “Obviously.”

Joel refuses to meet your eye. He doesn’t answer your question. Your annoyance grows.

“I’ll give you some options. Stunned? Mamed? Knocked unconscious?”

“Look, I'm not the person I used to be.”

You straighten up. “Nobody is, Joel. We’re literally in hell.” You push back images of your own actions- and inactions. “Now tell me so I can make a rough estimate on the force you used.”

Joel sighs. He remembers the cracking of bones. The way the guard went limp. It doesn’t haunt him. He would do it again to protect people, so why is he so hesitant? Is it that he associates you with Sarah?

He swallows. “Killed.”

He waits for you to kick him out, for a look of disgust to cover your face, but it never happens. You simply keep going with the exam. “Okay.”

You hit a sensitive nerve in his hand. He hisses. “I think it was more than a hairline… but it seems to have healed okay all things considering.”

Joel nods.

“I’m going to rig something up to help you strengthen the hand. It probably won’t help the nerve though.”

“You don’t have to.”

“But I will. I’ll drop it off at your house this evening.” You make note of a few things on a clipboard. “Otherwise, I’m giving you a clean bill of health.”

“So I’m free to go?”

“Free to go.” You nod.

He’s almost out the door when you turn around. “And Joel…” He stops, meeting your eye for the first time since his confession. “We’ve all had to kill people, do ugly things for the sake of survival. Don’t think you’re the only one.”

He wants to ask further questions, but you turn your back to him and it dies on his tongue.