#i can't believe i hope he retires

[spark-circuit]

so I finished reading Wonderlab recently, and you wanna know what broke me the most when I was reading the extra Trivia/Word of God section on TVTropes?

Spoilers for near the ending of Wonderlab under the cut!

Shasha was prepared to take Rose and Catt's place.

He's been strict throughout the whole comic, but it clearly comes from a place of caring and experience. He doesn't want to see any agents die carelessly. Any time he lectures the group, it's because he's doing it to drive a point home.

When he's talking to Rose about him and Catt "fearing death", and that Rose would be meeting "a futile end for someone like Catt", he's talking about himself. But when he hears Rose wants to try and make an honest change to how the Wings work, he sees she's got the potential, ideals and drive to try and make a difference; something he probably wishes deep down he could do too (though it's arguable how effective anyone trying to change The City would've been).

I am glad he survived the comic in the end, but ow. He was totally prepared to step up and make the sacrifice if Rose earnestly didn't want to die. And that would've changed the ending of the comic so much.

[lunarharp]

various witch stuff of the day or whatever the heck

[darththrog]

This makes me want to cry....

[hyunjinz]

.

[yawnderu]

Adoration — Simon "Ghost" Riley x Reader

Content: fluff, pregnant!reader, horrible dad jokes.

Our small talk was quite big to me. You know I love you, yeah? My entire life, I always wanted the most simple things. A cup of tea, a normal family, nice food, to be loved and accepted. To find comfort in someone, for the first time ever.

"Earth to Simon." You say teasingly, a hand being waved slowly near his eyes, as if to see if he was focusing on you. He gives you a questioning look, raising a blonde eyebrow stained with eyeblack.

"Seemed a bit lost there." You give his cheek a kiss and you could swear you felt it heat up right after. He returns it, of course, giving you an overly wet kiss on the cheek that makes you recoil and scrunch up your face in mock disgust, dragging a quiet laugh out of him. The sound is beautiful, something your enamored brain can never fully process no matter how many times you hear it.

"I'm here." He replies, arms wrapping around your waist as he brings you closer to his naked body, one hand now gently holding the back of your head as your cheek touches his chest.

"I'm here." He repeats, voice quieter as he looks down at you. The image of you has always been the lens in which he can see the world with love. Reserved for you— his hand trails down, running down your skin delicately before settling on your tummy. —and the life growing inside of you.

"I've been thinking about retiring." He says it so casually you take a few seconds to process, blinking a few times before looking up at him with a mix of confusion and excitement in your face.

"Really?" He doesn't blame you for not believing it— hell, he doesn't even believe it himself. His whole life has been dedicated to putting his life on the line, what else can he do? He'll find something. Anything.

"Yeah." He confirms, planting a soft kiss on your forehead as his hand keeps gently holding your stomach, hoping he can feel the baby kicking.

"There's too much to lose now that I have my girls with me." And he doesn't wanna take the risk anymore. He wants to grow old with you, and he wants to see his girl grow. Maybe even have a couple more kids later on.

His words are met with a soft peck, your hand gently running through his short, bleached hair.

"Are you sure?" He doesn't even hesitate before nodding, bringing your naked body closer to his, wanting to feel everything he missed out on his whole life.

"Already spoke with the old man. Said he'd support me either way." He chuckled softly, thinking back on his conversation with Price. The man was barely 10 years older than him, yet in a way, he was a father figure for Simon. Someone to look up to, a mentor.

He still remembers the first time you and Simon confirmed you were together, and how Price promised to keep his lips sealed despite fraternization being frowned upon. Price knew it would happen either way, looking at the way Simon's eyes softened when you were introduced to the team. The way he was always next to you, paying special attention to you during missions despite knowing you're part of the 141 because you're a capable soldier. Price would tease him in private about his obvious crush on you and Simon would simply say he's seeing things because of dementia.

"Then I'll retire too." You confirm, and before he can open his mouth to protest, you keep talking.

"I'm not risking our girl growing up without a mother. Can't imagine forcing her to deal with your bad jokes alone." You tease and the corners of his lips tilt up, eyes glistening with... something. You know that look.

"No, don't st—" You try to get up from bed and he gently pulls you closer, the same smug smile on his lips that shows he knows he's about to do something awful.

"What do you call a fish wearing a bowtie?" You groan loudly and try to escape his grasp, a smile tugging at your lips as he holds you even closer, planting a bunch of kisses all over your face while you try your best not to giggle.

"Sofishticated." He says bluntly, looking down at you to see your reaction. You simply look away, trying to have a serious expression yet... his jokes are so bad they're funny. A small giggle escapes you before you're full on laughing, trying to move him away from you so you can escape the never ending nightmare of his dad jokes, his low laugh coming from somewhere behind you while he holds you closer, thinking of more jokes he read online just to tell you. You are the shelter in which I find strength to carry on. Thank you.

[shadesoflsk]

THE OLD WAY

pairing: Leon Kennedy x fem reader

summary: Living at a farm and being married surely has it perks. However, Leon can't help but think something is missing.

warnings: smut, MDNI, oral (fem receiving) p in v, mating press (??), creampie, breeding kink, outdoor sex, age gap (unspecified), established relationship, fluff, Leon is so husband in this, mentions of pregnancy, domestic bliss.

word count: 4k

author's note: Hello! I had this fic in my drafts for sooo long. I was kind of ashamed to post this since it's not my usual type of content but !!! fuck it !! Ovulation goes brrr. I hope you all like it!I had an older Leon in mind but I used a re6 leon pic for funsies. (And please... don't judge the lack of creativity in my title... I didn't know what to write.)

MY MASTERLIST

City life was no longer fitting for a man like him. Job was not the same and he was afraid he might not get up from one of his falls one day. Joints no longer worked like they used to, a painful reminder of how his age was getting to him.

That's why he chose to retire, rather early for the average citizen. But he believes his position as a federal agent has aged him to the point where he could easily describe himself as an 80 years old man who needed help crouching down.

With that in mind, he wasted no time buying a home away from civilization. Money was no problem and owning a ranch now sounded like the best idea he could come up with. Days turned into weeks, weeks into months, and months into years. Time seemed to flow faster as he settled down in a peaceful lifestyle.

Solitude was very much welcomed. The sounds of blood dripping and ragged screams were replaced by the soft pitty patter of the rain and the usual rooster’s crow each morning, announcing a new day. 

But, as much as he has grown to love and appreciate his simplistic routine, the monotonous daily work and the lack of companionship were hitting him hard. When night came and his thoughts clouded his rational side, he yearned for a change in his life. He was never the romantic type, never been. His previous job as an agent cut off any possibilities of having a partner and settling down like any normal person would. But years made him a sappy man, it seemed.

Life works in mysterious ways, though. He wouldn’t have thought that farm life would bring him a sweet thing like you. It all started with your car breaking down a few meters away from his farm. You wanted to thank him for his help, there was no way you would simply express your gratitude through words, not after his assistance. 

So, your first visit consisted of a home-baked pie which he reluctantly accepted. Not because he didn’t want to but it had been a while since he was last gifted something. That first meeting soon turned into a couple until you were basically there every day. 

“Stay with me,” shifted into a “Be my girlfriend” and therefore the “Marry me?” finally came. 

You were the best thing that has ever happened in his life, a peaceful life away from any danger the city may bring and a beautiful wife by his side? God granted him the most perfect miracle ever. 

He followed the milestones of your relationship to a T. Even though the lack of knowledge was sometimes obvious, he knew the basics of how to keep a girl—his girl— happy. It was in his nature to provide, and living with you meant no exception. 

He always strived to do better, to be better. Your needs were always met and he took pride in knowing he was your husband. No one else but him. 

However, he felt selfish when none of that actually fulfilled him. He was happy with you, don’t get him wrong. Nothing was like before when he thought he would die alone with no one who cared about him. But something in the back of his mind kept bothering him.

And ever since he realized something was missing, he couldn't help but try to find out what it was. 

For days and weeks, he tried picturing the change both of you needed. More pets? You had enough with the dog you both have. Vacations? He had already taken you to the beach. More space in your home? The house at the farm was alright… Maybe a little too big for just the two of you.

Oh.

Oh…

The problem was the two of you. Or rather, being just the two of you on this big ranch. 

He had come to realize that he could, in fact, dream bigger. A few years ago, he would have thought that being married was a faraway dream, unachievable and stupid. But now he’s a husband and maybe if he tries hard enough, he can get to be a family man.

However, nobody has taught him how to face these types of situations. Even when he asked you to be his wife, he needed months of preparation. How was he going to explain this desire to put a baby in you? 

On one peaceful night, he was spooning you as always. It was his favorite activity after taking care of his chores at the farm (and even doing some of yours just so you could relax more). But even when there was nothing but a comforting silence, his thoughts wouldn’t stop flooding his mind. 

He let one of his hands rest on your abdomen, caressing the skin there with circular motions. He tried closing his eyes to prevent more of those thoughts from coming to his mind yet it was useless. His imagination was running wild when he pictured you carrying a life in your belly, swollen and round, the perfect scenario.

He imagined taking care of you. Of course, his pretty wife won’t do anything if she’s next to him. There was no way he wouldn’t take that opportunity to show her how much of a man, a good man he was. 

Pressing a kiss to your cheek as he rested behind you, he spoke before even thinking what he was supposed to say.

“You would be a good mom, you know?” It slipped out of his mouth, he should’ve used a more discreet way of speaking his mind. Now it was too late to draw back.

“What?” You chuckled as you turned your head to look at Leon. “I’d look great as a mom?” 

“Yeah.” He whispered, finally admitting his desire to have a family. “What do you think?”

He wouldn’t push the matter if you don’t feel the same. As much as he loved the idea of having mini versions of both of you, there was no way he would force you to do it. 

“Mhm… I think you’d also be a great dad.” Your voice was as soft as his, indulging in this little moment of intimacy and raw honesty. 

The word dad rings in his mind. His life before having his ranch was violence-filled, then years of solitude surrounded by nothing but nature cornered him to think that being alone was his destiny. Now, you brought him a newfound desire to come back home and finding you and your child. A family.

“You think so?” 

“Absolutely.”

Leon had a silly smile formed on his face. His dreams were actually achievable and domesticity and tranquility were now his everyday life.

“We can try if you want.” You added, feeling how Leon continued drawing shapes on your stomach. “How many would you like?”

Leon didn’t think he would get this far. 

“Want me to be honest?” Leon’s lips curled into a mischievous smile. “I wouldn’t mind having an entire football team with you.” He joked, hearing how you gasped in response.

“Leon!” You slapped his hand out of your abdomen. “I’m the one having them!” 

Both of you laughed as the night embraced both of you like a blanket. Confessions have never been so much welcomed as tonight’s. 

“I love you.” He murmured as his eyes closed. It was a reassurance that whatever life had in store for both of you, he would gladly accept it.

“I love you more.” You replied with the same fondness as always. Drifting off to sleep was easier than ever.

-

Days passed and the conversation wasn’t forgotten. Nonetheless, you let the flow of time and life decide for both of you.

Daily chores needed to be completed no matter what. So, he’s now washing his hands after feeding the horses. You’re holding the garden hose which makes a wet mess given the force of the water. 

“Didn’t know it was raining.” Leon jokes as the water soaks his shirt and pants. 

“Shit, sorry.” You turn off the garden hose as you giggle watching how drenched Leon looks. 

And while you are genuinely sorry since Leon still has things to do on the farm, you can’t help but appreciate the image your husband is offering. White shirt now see-through, giving you the perfect view of his soft abdomen clinging to the fabric.

When you first met Leon, he had told you what an amazing body he had. With so much pride, he once showed you pictures of his past self. Images of a toned torso and strong arms would look appealing to your eyes. But each time Leon and you are intimate, you get to feel his slightly rounder belly pressed against you, his strong arms clinging to you. In those moments you can’t help but thank God for the gorgeous man you have. 

“Enjoying the view?” Leon breaks the silence when he feels your eyes not leaving his body. 

“Maybe…” You quietly whisper as you drop the hose and walk closer to him. “Can’t help it, my husband is so handsome.” You add, hiding your face in the crook of his neck. Inevitably, you inhaled the scent you have grown to love. 

For a moment, you stay there, just drowning in the affection letting your hands rest on his sides unaware of how Leon could feel the slight friction of your breasts against his soaked shirt. The thin fabric of your dress does a poor job of preventing Leon’s hands from wandering around your body. 

A pool of arousal starts setting in Leon as he reaches your ass and gives it a firm squeeze.

With one swift and smooth move, he lifts you off the ground. Your feet are no longer touching the floor as Leon walks away from the barn. And, as if on command, you wrap your legs around his torso, allowing him to walk easier to whatever destination he had in mind.

For once, Leon hates the fact that he owns a big ass farm. His place is a bit far away from the barn, so his decisions are fogged by the desire and neediness he is feeling at the moment. Years in solitude led him to think he was imponent but with the way his jeans seem to get tighter each time your lower half brushes against his, he knows it's not true.

He is a gentleman, don’t get him wrong. He’d have picked you up and carried you to his bedroom as usual, laid you on the bed, taken off your clothes, and fucked you gently (or rough) like he usually did. However, a newfound wish piqued his interest, and even though you're in a secluded area, he wishes everyone would know what pretty girl he got.

Without further thinking and no complaints made, he places you down on the grass. The sensation of the blades tickling your skin is, in a way, bothersome, but your brain is easily turned into mush every time Leon dares to touch you.

Leon, however, wouldn’t allow you to feel any discomfort. His sun-kissed skin would be exposed in swift motion as he takes off his wet shirt. Those antagonizing seconds of admiring him unbuttoning the fabric push you to press your thighs together, seeking any type of release or mere pleasure.

“Up,” And after those endless seconds of him taking off his shirt, his hand taps your hip, motioning you to lift the lower half of your body for him to lay his shirt there. Giving no second thoughts, you raise your rear, pathetically quick, and Leon notices. “So needy, have I been slacking off?”

And his tone gives him away. He is looking forward to letting nature be the witness of your lustful acts. The sun being your light and the grass your makeshift bed. His body embraces the position on top of you.

“Of course I have.” He cooes, bringing his face lower and lower before pressing his cheek against your inner thigh. His stubble resembles sandpaper with how it scratches your skin, but at this point, it brings more pleasure than annoyance. “Look at her, already crying for me.”

His breath tickles the middle area between your legs. The wet spot in your panties is obvious to Leon who wastes no time to bring up that fact. And you want to thank yourself for choosing a dress today because there is no way you could do anything besides laying on the grass and letting Leon treat you so nicely and tenderly.

“How could I?” He hums against the soaked patch of the fabric. “Been neglecting my pretty girl.” He presses a kiss on your clothed area, dragging down the anticipated pleasure you’re looking for. 

“Mhm… please.” Your babbles gain a chuckle out of Leon’s lips. He is enjoying the whole setting, he wouldn’t have known he had a thing for outdoor sex but then again, he loves discovering new things with you. 

Antagonistically, he lifts your dress until it reaches your abdomen and exposes your lower half.

And finally, his fingers hook around the sides of your panties, yanking down the fabric, allowing himself to admire the way he has made a mess of you already. 

As always, he was ready for his favorite meal in the whole world.

Lying on his stomach, he props up on his elbows, his mouth dives into your pussy as his tongue laps at your clit. A moan escapes your lips as the sensation of being eaten out by Leon floods your mind and soul. 

He feasts like a starved man, like he is eating his favorite dessert. He delves into your aching hole, his tongue tasting the sweet and well-known flavor of your juices. He brings your legs over his shoulders, propping you to raise your lower half and reach even deeper. 

“Shit,” Your fingers tangle in his dirty blond hair, shoving his face into your cunt. His lips suck your clit, paying close attention to that part, drawing moans and whines out of you. 

A plethora of names are being said as Leon continues being trapped between your thighs. He flicks his tongue while he feels how some of your slick drips to his stubble. And with the way your legs squeeze him even tighter, he can already guess you’re feeling so much pleasure from his tongue alone.

You arch your back, trying to bring him even closer to your core. The wet noises of his saliva and your slick mix with the outdoor ones. The soft rustling of the trees’ leaves and the birds chirping are a reminder of the scenario you both are in.

Whimpers leave your lips as Leon's tongue makes out with your cunt. Your fingers grip the shirt Leon placed as a makeshift blanket. Heat starts pooling in your belly as the antagonizing seconds of Leon eating you out bring you to the edge.

At last, your body jerks and comes undone in Leon’s grasp. He holds you in place, flattening his tongue to collect every drop of your slick. He could easily cum too just by the fact he was tasting your release. 

“My sweet girl, always so perfect for me.” He finally disconnects from your pussy to crawl back to where your face is. He places some kisses on your neck which is glistening with a layer of sweat given how much pleasure you were previously feeling. 

At last, his lips reach yours and he passionately kisses you. You could easily taste yourself in the kiss yet you don’t care at this very moment. 

For a moment, he indulges in the tenderness of the kiss after bringing you to heaven with just his tongue alone. However, the easily noticeable restraint in his jeans was getting harder to control. 

You feel him grind against you, seeking any type of friction to ease the aching feeling of his erection. 

“Leon… I can’t….” Leon’s intentions are obvious as you feel his clothed dick humping your leg like a needy man yet, you are still tender from your ecstasy. 

“You can…” He brings his face against the crook of your neck once again, placing wet kisses around your skin. “Just one more baby.”

He pleads, he begs, he needs to feel you wrapped around him. Those thoughts about leaving his mark, leaving his seed in you are still pretty much present. So at last, you nod. That’s when you can feel a smile forming on his lips which continue being pressed against your neck. 

“Thank you, thank you.” Acting like he hasn’t touched for ages, you hear the rustle of fabric and his belt buckle falling to the ground. You see how his dick springs out of his boxers when he pulls them down, already leaking precum just from eating you out.

In less than a second, you feel him collecting your previous release, sliding his cock through your folds with such ease that it had you gripping air. 

“Fuck…” He murmurs as he pushes himself painfully slowly, taking his time to feel how your walls tighten around his length. Pinned underneath him, you feel overwhelmed by the sensation of having his body so close to you. 

“My pretty wife…” He whispers as he is finally all the way in. “Look at you, so pretty full of me.” He adds while one of his hands caresses your hair.

He starts gently rocking against your body, the pace is slow and comforting as if trying to remember the way your velvety walls clamp his dick, the stretch being something you’re accustomed to.

“I love you so much, you know that?” He says as he thrusts inside of you, this time a little more urgently. The hand that was previously running through your hair wraps around your waist and lifts it slightly. 

“Mhm…yes.” You nod as your eyes lock with his, witnessing a newfound desire you haven’t seen before. Maybe it was the fact that both of you are outdoors, you don’t know. 

The sounds of his skin slapping against yours mix with your heavy breaths. The perfect music for the perfect scenario. As soon as Leon hits that sweet spot of yours, you whimper his name like a mantra. 

And then again, the thought of a family floods his mind. The mental image of your belly stretching out, making space for the baby is everything he longs for. And not only that, but he craves to take care of you, his pretty wife. You wouldn’t need to lift a finger for the nine months of pregnancy. 

“Wanna fill you up.” He finally confesses in a moan. He isn’t a stranger to dirty talk, you know it well. The way his words come out like a promise and an already-made decision is proof of his not so hidden wish. “This farm is lonely with just the two of us…”

And as he presses his forehead against yours, you see in his eyes the devotion he has for you. The same man that promised you the world is now promising a life, a new life who is going to be the perfect combination of both you and him.

“What’chu mean?” You feign ignorance just for the sake of hearing those words coming out of his mouth again. And as you try to say some more teasing words, you can feel the way his thrusts get rougher as if trying to make a statement. The statement being that he wouldn’t stop until you get pregnant.

“You know what I mean…” He is huffing by now, letting out a grunt as he utters those words. “Wanna get you nice and full.”

Ultimately, your dreams are the same as his. So you allow him to transform this dream of his into his—your—reality now.

“Yeah?” You say through your teeth, trying not to whimper from the fact that his cock is reaching so deep into you. 

“Yeah.” He groans, his sticky forehead never leaving yours as he looks into your eyes and your dazed-out expression. “You’re gonna look so goddamn beautiful as a momma.” 

Out of desperation to fuck you even deeper, he brings your legs to his shoulders, just like he previously did when he was eating you out. But this time, it is an attempt to let his dick mark your womb. 

It is his mission to one day see a positive test. It’s his mission to show his devotion to his princess and the now-future mother of his children. He’d never stop looking at the telltale of his seed making its home in your body. 

He wouldn’t let you do anything besides resting and growing your little miracle. He’d cook, he’d clean, he’d feed you if you ask him to. 

“Keep squeezing me like that, I’m gonna—fuck—cum…” He effortlessly bends your knees even more, bringing them closer to your chest.  “Gonna fill you up until I’m so damn empty.” 

He takes advantage of the vulnerable position you’re in to bring a hand to your clit. Rubbing it, he waits for the imminent climax of both of you.

“Cum for me, princess.” He presses his body on top of you, the position allowing him to let out an almost growl against your ear. The sense of purpose that Leon is showing prompts you to finally reach your climax. With a broken voice and your fingernails leaving crescent moons on his back, you coat his dick with your release. A gooey ring forms at the base of his cock every time he pulls in and out of you. 

His actions don’t stop there, though. He was so close to spilling right inside you and making his dreams come true. He brings the hand that was previously teasing your clit to your face, brushing away some of your hair that has stuck to your forehead, he looks right into your eyes.

“Fucking love you so much.” He grunts, his deep sea eyes never leaving yours, as if trying to engrave this moment in his mind. To forever remember the time when he finally achieved his dream. “You’ll be the prettiest momma ever.”

Although his thrusts are too much for you to handle and the overstimulation turns into a slight discomfort, the way his hand is gently caressing your cheek—a juxtaposition of his determined attempt of marking you— makes you melt on the spot.

And especially since the cold feeling of his wedding ring reminds you of the amazing man you married.

“I'm cumming.” He warns you as his thrusts get sloppy and without rhythm. He's seeing stars at this moment, every time he plunges his dick into you he reaches the sky. And at last, with the way his breath gets laboured and heavy, it announces his high coming.

The head of his dick spurts rope after rope of cum into you, the angle you are in makes it easier for it not to drip out of you. He wouldn’t allow a drop of his seed to go to waste. 

You feel the warm and thick liquid filling your insides, proof of Leon’s actions and therefore fulfilled wish. For a moment, you stay there letting his weight crush you and your bent legs. 

After a while, he slowly slips out of you, carefully placing your legs on the ground. You feel the grass blades tickling your calves where Leon’s shirt doesn’t reach. 

Leon rests his arm next to your head, admiring the dazed-out expression you have after letting him fill you.

“Hey…” He murmurs before letting out a soft chuckle. 

“Hi you.” You respond with a smile amidst the exhaustion that is running through your veins. “We really just did that.”

“Yeah…” In his eyes, you can observe how much love he has for you and how eager he is to know if this one dream will be a reality.

With his free hand, he grabs yours and places soft pecks on your knuckles. 

“Are you okay?” He once again speaks, now making sure you are alright. 

“More than okay.” 

He gives your knuckles one last kiss before he lets out a breathy laugh, shaking his head while doing so.

“A penny for your thoughts?” You ask.

“Nothing…” He shakes his head once again. “It's just that… I may have some dad jokes already prepared.”

“Shut up, Leon.”

You couldn’t wait to know if your dreams were achieved by this act. You couldn’t wait to see if your life could get even better than this. And especially, you couldn’t wait to experience being a family.

💬 shadesoflsk: Comments, reblogs and likes are very much appreciated.

[heich0e]

just saw talk of boxer au!gojo on twitter and i fear now i'm thinking about satoru—undefeated in his weight class, a sensation in the sport—gearing up for a fight against a fighter from the underground scene, ryomen sukuna, who's known to have seedy connections and to not fight fair. his opponents often end up hospitalized, or mysteriously retiring after his matches—and there are rumours that some meet even more sinister fates.

and you show up at gojo's training gym one night, long after the rest of his team has gone home and find him in the practice ring just laying on his back, his mitts tucked under his head like a pillow, asleep and totally at peace. you hesitate, not sure if you should disturb him, but eventually climb up onto the elevated platform of the ring. you slip through the ropes like you have a hundred—maybe a thousand—times before, and approach him quietly as not to wake him.

he strikes when you're within arm's reach, moving faster than you could ever hope to dodge even if you did anticipate it, and before you know it you're toppling down on top of him as he uses his body to break your fall—two strong arms cradling you to his bare chest.

"you weren't sleeping," you grumble into his neck sullenly, and you feel his chest lift with a laugh. "you tricked me."

"had to, otherwise you might've tried to run away." his hands pat down along your spine, then up over your shoulder blades, holding you tight. "couldn't risk that when you haven't been answering any of my calls."

he lets you pull away but only barely—just enough room to use his chest to push yourself up and look at him, but his hands on your hips keep you pinned in place where you straddle him. when you look down at him, at his pretty face and his bright eyes and the soft smile he always shows you, you feel like you might start crying again—just like the last time you were in this very gym a week prior. the gym whose route you could walk in your sleep, whose walls you have memorized with his name and trophies displayed proudly everywhere you look. Gojo. Gojo. Gojo. the same way the crowds at his fights chant for him and his triumph.

gojo—a name as familiar to you as it is foreign. it's his, but it's not. because the boy below you, staring up at you with that same lovesick expression you've never seen waver, will never be anything to you but satoru. means everything to you as satoru.

"it's not too late," you whisper, reaching up with a shaking hand and running your fingertips along the blush that sits high on his cheeks. "you can still call off the fight, there's still time."

satoru's expression shifts for a moment, so brief you may have missed it if you didn't know him so well. there's a flash of something behind his eyes that reads unmistakably like guilt. he dons a facade of petulance to mask it, his lip pursing in an exaggerated pout.

"i can't believe my own good luck charm doesn't think i can win against some loser," he whines, turning his face and nosing against the palm that was cupping his cheek.

it's not true. you believe in satoru unwaveringly, you know his skill and his abilities. your faith in him is, and always has been, implicit. it's his opponent you don't trust.

it's what the fight might cost him, regardless of the outcome, that terrifies you.

"hey."

your eyes focus again, and you meet satoru's gaze below you. he lifts his hand, cupping yours—so much smaller in comparison—underneath as he holds your touch against his face, pressing a kiss to your palm.

it's so impossibly still in the gym with everyone else gone, but everything about it is known to you. is wholly familiar. the dim fluorescents, the smell that lingers in the air, the hum of the fans, the sound of satoru's breath.

"stop worrying, okay?" he whispers against your skin, kissing your palm again to punctuate the request. "there's no way i'm gonna lose. i'm the strongest, after all."

and there's familiarity in those words too, since he's said them to you more times than you could ever hope to keep track of.

but this time they just don't seem to reassure you the same way.

[frogchiro]

I don't why but I feel that sleazy neighbors ghost was a pretty sad timeline for him, because ghost is someone with a lot of trauma and faces so may hardship in his life so you hoping that he live a long live and retired from the military in a comfy house in countryside with a lot of dogs getting visited by other 141 member too because they also retired.

And then him in this au just getting discharged along with other member living in the cheap apartment out of nowhere drinking cheap beer and playing card just make me feel disheartened by it. But hey at least he meet reader so it's good I guess...

Sorry for making this timeline sadder but I just can't help but overthink it.

Oh no please don't apologize!! Tbh believe me or not but there actually is lore underneath all of this😭

Because it is in fact quite the sad timeline for everyone involved under all that horny and sleaziness!

Reader (whom I more or less based on Hackergirl if her life went wrong, my poor girl) who was kicked out by her shitty parents when she was 20 because 'they were done raising her' with quite literally nothing to her name besides a few belongings and the clothes on her back. Had to put her education on hold because she couldn't afford it and now is stuck in this seemingly hopeless situation in that cold, bleak apartment building and yet she has to survive.

Simon who got dishonorably discharged from the military which meant no additional vet money for him even after years of service. While in this au he's...not alright at all in his head and has quite unnerving and dark tendencies, it's still hard to watch as this clearly damaged man went from having (more or less) something to basically nothing, degraded to sitting in a falling apart, dark and cold apartment, sipping cheap booze and...yeah, exactly, what more is there?

Johnny was actually dishonorably discharged too for being caught driving under the influence. One fuck-up, one time he told himself that nothing bad will happen and before he knew it he was caught by the police, put in handcuffs and dragged in front of a stern judge. Humiliated and left with basically nothing and working a dead-end job because he never really amounted to anything besides his military career that is now in the past.

[simkoos]

in between building and trying not to drive myself crazy with my indecisiveness, i've been populating my save with men™

adam bardot, 27: local fuccboi, usually spotted at the boba shop shooting his shot with the vendor

barry king, 72: self-made millionaire (or so he claims), owns the 'kingpin gentlemen's club' in del sol valley. he's lowkey forcing his son to take over the business after his retirement

bryn chamberlain, 22: youngest of 4 siblings. he makes bank on simhub but his parents believe he's simply tipped well at the fancy seafood restaurant in downtown san sequoia 🤷

houston morrisey, 26: lowkey has anger issues and denies it while being argumentative and angry... an amazing photographer, loves media production and any music genre as long as it can be played loudly. always in competition with his best friend shayne

jaxon guzman, 31: kinda unhinged, you just don't know what goes on in that mind of his. freaks out customers works at a marijuana dispensary in del sol valley and has a gf that's equally unhinged

kevin offerman, 25: studies early childhood development at ubrite, loves 2000's pop music, green tea and cozy video games. he's also hope and jamison's nanny 🤍

kieran panzacola, 33: looks tough bc he is. definitely the strong and silent type but has a super soft spot for his puppy maddie ;-;

kristian wang, 21: lifestyle influencer from san myshuno, rarely interacts with sims not in his social circle. claims to be humble and down to earth while bragging about purchasing his first home at 19

myles cook, 26: has tons of friends, the guy to go to if you wanna know where the best parties are. lost count of the amount of piercings he has but wants more smh (if you can't tell i love my alt boys sm)

noel easley, 20: lives solely on ramen, granola bars and mcdonald's french fries. very easy going, is absolutely loved by his friends and peers. he's also an expert at crochet and sells his creations on plopsy! (pls buy a hat he needs more fries)

prof. cliff woodruff, 55: foxbury's renowned robotics professor, divorcee, father of 2 and sugar daddy. 👀

shayne goins, 25: friendly but mysterious, wants to be a rockstar when he grows up, has 3 unrequited love interests bc of his fear of vulnerability and commitment :((( always in competition with his best friend houston

[stop-talking]

Older; not Wiser (pt. 1)

Derek Danforth x fem reader

2.5k words

Tags: 18+, age gap, reader is 20, no use of y/n, smoking, shotgunning, brat tamer Derek, bratty reader, filthy shit, porn that's mostly plot, grinding, clit stimulation, Derek has dirty thoughts, (duh), idk just read it this is mostly buildup to smut

─────────────────── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆

Derek stumbles into his private study tired, high, and eager to take a break from the party raging in the rest of his mansion. He often retires to this room, as no one is allowed here but himself. Not even the maids.

So why is there a pretty young woman lounging in his recliner?

No, not lounging... you look far too tense for that. In fact, you don't even seem to notice his presence at all until he's towering over you.

"I believe this is my seat, sweetheart." He says, trying to keep his voice firm and suppress a smirk as he takes a hit of his blunt.

You scramble up from the chair immediately, squeaking out a quiet apology.

Ah, so you know who he is. AND you listen. That's good.

Derek chuckles to himself as he plops down in the plush lounge chair, a cloud of smoke escaping his lips.

You apparently don't know what to do yourself after the little evection, simply staring at your feet and tugging on the hem of your dangerously tiny dress.

Fuck, you look good.

"Oh, c'mon. Don't be like that. We can share." Derek pats the armrest of his chair, giving you what he hopes in an inviting smile.

After a few seconds of simply blinking at him in shock, you shyly make your way over and take a seat on the armrest. Your arm hooks around the top of the chair as you get comfortable, but you're careful not to touch him.

Derek can't help but smirk slightly at your timid nature. Is he really that scary? Whatever. He'll take it as a compliment.

"So, does she speak?" He asks after another slow hit of his joint. You look so pretty through the dim smoky haze.

"Not much." You admit, fixing your gaze on your lap in an attempt to avoid eye contact.

Derek looks at your lap too, but quickly has to turn his attention elsewhere. Fuck. That dress really is too short.

"Something tells me you're sober." He teases, waving his blunt in front of you.

That earns him a nod, so he pushes further.

"Want me to fix that, sweet girl? Looks like you need to relax a little."

You pause for a moment, then reach for his blunt. He pulls it away from you with a sharp tsk.

"Not like that. Open up for me, doll."

Your eyes widen with surprise as he brings a hand up to cup your face. He takes a long pull from his joint, enjoying the pretty little look you give him.

When he gently tugs at your bottom lip with his thumb, you obediently open your mouth, leaning down towards him.

His lips meet yours, and he exhales a lungful of hot smoke, depositing it directly into your own mouth. You eagerly take everything he gives you, melting into his touch. He can't help but want to give you more.

"Derek..." You whisper, eyes fluttering open as you stare down at him with a blissed-out look. Oh, that definitely relaxed you.

"Yes, doll?" He has to fight to suppress a smirk as he slowly tucks an arm around your lower back. In a failing attempt to be respectful, he lets his hand rest on your outer thigh, instead of shoving it right between your legs like he truly wants.

"Can you do that again?" You ask sweetly, leaning in a little closer now.

How could he ever say no to you?

"Only if you answer something for me, sweetheart." He practically purrs, gently caressing your cheek with the hand that's still holding the blunt. He's careful not to burn you, as the last thing he'd want to do is mark up that pretty face of yours.

Your neck, though...? No, he shouldn't go there. Not yet.

You hum a response, leaning into the touch and closing your eyes. One of your legs slips down from the armrest, falling on his lap instead.

Whether it's intentionally seductive or simply a sign you're growing more comfortable with him, Derek can't tell. He welcomes the touch either way, tugging you just a little closer with the arm he has around you.

"How'd a pretty girl like you end up all alone at a party, hm? Surely someone out there is missing you."

There. A not-so-subtle question. Is the little trespasser single? Not that it really matters. He'll have you either way.

"Oh, uh... I dunno... I was just feeling overwhelmed, and... well, I've been to parties before, just..."

After a minute of stumbling over your words, Derek waves a hand, cutting you off and putting you out of your misery.

"Just not a Danforth party?" He finishes for you, chuckling.

You flush a bit and nod, clearly embarrassed. Hm. You hadn't exactly answered his question, but, well... If you are in a relationship, it clearly isn't that serious. Not with how you're halfway to sitting on his lap.

"C'mere, sweetheart. You need to relax. It's overwhelming out there, huh?" He speaks softly, pulling you ever-so-slightly closer and giving your thigh a light pat.

Your arms slips around his shoulders in return, and he takes one final pull from his rapidly shrinking blunt in an attempt to hide his smugness. God, you're so damn eager. It's endearing.

After dropping the remnants of his joint in a nearby ashtray, he pulls you down to meet his lips again. You graciously accept his breath, and Derek swears he hears a moan spill from your pretty mouth.

"Feel better?" He asks, cradling your face in his hand.

You stare down at him with pure admiration, inching even closer as your eyes glaze over. The weed is clearly starting to take effect.

"What? You wanna take a seat, sweet girl?" Derek pats his lap, and apparently, that's all the invitation you need.

Before he knows it, you're situated sideways across his legs, with your arm still hooked around his neck.

He lets out a breathy laugh and tucks both his arms around you in return, one around your lower back and one just behind your knees.

Now that you're all up close and personal, he finally gets a good look at you. Fuck, you look young. His heart starts to race for a moment, irrationally fearing the worst. He knows there's a strict 18+ rule for all of his little parties, but still... couldn't hurt to check.

"Just how old are you, doll?"

"Twenty. Why?" You blink at him curiously, making yourself comfortable against his chest.

Shit. Okay. Twenty. That's not... too bad, right? His brow furrows, and he grips your thigh a little tighter as he pulls you close.

You must pick up on his hesitation, because you cup his cheek with your free hand and gently turn his head to look at you.

"Why? How old are you?"

"Take a guess, sweetheart."

Your faces scrunches adorably as you study him, and Derek has to hold in a laugh.

"Like... twenty-five?"

"Hm. You must be higher than I thought." He finally allows himself a small chuckle, taking your hand from his face and pressing a gentle kiss to the back of it before lacing your fingers with his.

"That or you're just trying to flatter me."

You flush a bit at the kiss, but don't seem too phased otherwise, giggling softly and avoiding his gaze.

"How old are you, then?"

"I'm twenty-eight, sweetheart. You're practically a baby." Derek lets out an amused huff, squeezing your hand a little tighter as he slumps back in the recliner.

If you're surprised by that realization, you don't let it show. Instead, your free hand finds its way into his hair, lightly tugging at a handful of his curls.

"Yeah? And you practically have one foot in the grave, old man."

Derek should be mad at that. Both at the sudden intimate touch, and your disrespectful words. But looking into your eyes, seeing you smile at him like that? God, it just melts him.

Of course, he isn't quite ready to let you get away with that little quip either, so he gives your exposed thigh a playful smack.

"Play nice, little girl." He growls, returning your sass.

That just gets another giggle out of you. He marvels at how much you've changed from the shy girl he met just minutes ago. Hm. Must be the weed.

"You haven't smoked before, have you?" He muses, voicing his observation. He's sure of it. That light in your eyes. It has to be your first high.

"I mean... not really." You stare down at him with a smile, mindlessly twirling a lock of his hair around your finger.

Alright, that's enough. At this rate, you're gonna make him soft for you.

"Okay, sweetheart. I'm gonna call you a ride home." He huffs in amusement, shifting and reaching into his pocket for his phone.

"What? Why?" You frantically tense your grasp on his hair, giving him a look of genuine hurt.

Ow. Derek grunts, grabbing your hand and gently prying it from his curls.

"I'm not letting you go back out into that party like this, pretty girl. Look at you. Practically naked, and higher than a kite." He playfully tsks at you, running a hand over your exposed thighs for emphasis.

Fuck, you really are one wardrobe malfunction away from exposing yourself. Part of him is tempted to peel back the fabric of your tight little dress and try to catch a glimpse of your panties... if you're even wearing any. He wouldn't be surprised if you'd decided to forgo them.

"Who says I want to go back out into the party?" You start inching up his lap, getting dangerously close to his crotch.

He knows he should probably push you off, call you a ride, and send you home. Maybe give you his phone number, if he's feeling bold. But he doesn't want you to leave. Not when you're so damn fun.

"Woah, woah. Careful, little girl." He gently nudges you back down to his legs, desperately trying to keep you off his awakening dick. It stirs slightly in his pants from the movement, and he tries to discreetly adjust himself with a hand.

"I want to stay here with you." You whisper, giving him a pleading look as you reach to cup his cheek once more.

"No." He says firmly, though his cock is screaming at him to say yes.

"You're too far gone for this, sweetheart. I shouldn't have given you that second puff."

Derek reaches for his phone once more, determined to call you a ride and get you home safely.

Before he can even unlock the damn thing, you snatch it from him, dropping it onto the floor and out of reach. He tries to protest, but his angry growl quickly turns into a moan as you position yourself over his straining cock.

"I. Want. To. Stay."

Derek's nails dig into your thigh in retaliation, and he grits his teeth in a failing attempt to bite back a groan.

"You don't know what you're asking for." He growls, roughly grabbing your jaw and pulling you in closer.

"Then show me."

He does.

Derek kisses you with as much force as he can muster, biting your bottom lip and tugging it down to allow his tongue access to your mouth. He takes over the kiss, trying to swallow you whole.

After a few minutes of oral abuse, you pull away, dazed and panting.

"Too much for you, sweetheart?" He teases, unable to fight back a chuckle.

"No," you pant, "not nearly enough." With that, you reach a hand down and grope at his clothed cock, eyes trained on his own.

Fuck.

Your intentions are now explicitly clear, and Derek can feel his mind and body pulled in two different directions. Logically, he knows this is probably wrong. But his dick doesn't care about logic, and his brain is quick to agree.

He lets out a low growl as you start palming him through his clothes, and finally decides to do something about it. Two can play at that game.

"Oh, you're trouble. Aren't you, little girl?" One hand roughly squeezes your thigh, and the other slips between them, working his way up.

"Hm-hm." You just hum in agreement, melting against his chest and nosing into his hair.

"Yeah? This what you want?" He asks, finally reaching your panties. Fuck, even through the fabric, he can tell you're absolutely soaked.

His thumb traces circles around your clit through your underwear, and the needy little sounds you make only encourage him further.

Derek can't help but think this is a perfect way to spend the evening. He'll sit here and help your rub one out till you cum in those pretty panties, then hold you till you fall asleep on his lap. It'll be a damn good nap, too, considering he'd given you some of his own joint earlier. Good shit.

And then after, well, he'd either call you a cab or have someone fix up a room for you. He wasn't going to let anything happen to his new toy.

"Want more."

Derek is pulled out of his contemplation as you squeeze his cock again, more urgently this time. He hisses a response, trying to stay firm.

"You'll take what I offer, doll." He pulls his hand from between your legs, and lightly smacks your thigh as a warning.

This doesn't seem to go over well with you, as you begin to pout and backtalk him.

"What, scared? Does this old thing even work anymore?" You taunt him with another tantalizing grind of your palm against his dick.

Okay, that's enough of that.

"You wanna test it out, sweetheart?" He growls, harshly grabbing your wrist to put a stop to your little tease game.

"Maybe I do." You giggle, blinking down at him with an false innocence that he might have fell for, had he not just felt how soaked your pussy is.

Christ. You really are trouble. Derek soon finds his hands on your hips, guiding you to straddle his lap. Maybe he could let you ride one out on his thigh. That wouldn't be so bad, right?

Or maybe he'd have to make yet another change to his plans. You start to slide up his lap, and in the blink of an eye, you're pressed right up against his straining cock.

"Look, little girl." He growls at you through gritted teeth, tightening his grip on your hips in an attempt to ground himself.

"I'm not gonna go easy on you."

"Good. I'm not scared."

Derek can feel every gentlemanly urge leaving his body at your words. Well, he had tried the respectful route. His resolve in the face of your teasing should be applauded, truly.

You start to desperately grind against him, and finally, he snaps. You've made it clear what you want from him, and he can't hold back from giving it to you any longer.

He's going to to fuck you absolutely dumb.

─────────────────── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆

Author's note: I'M SORRY TO LEAVE THIS OFF ON A CLIFFHANGER but I am currently too sleepy to write!! But I want y'all to have SOMETHING, so here's a little treat!!

Part two will 100% be out tomorrow, and it will (probably) be the only additional chapter. This was just supposed to be some quick smut, not a whole series.

(It'll also be from the reader's perspective, this whole scene just felt right in Derek's.)

LOVE YOU GUYS!! HOPE I DIDNT MISS ANYTHING TOO GLARINGLY BAD BECAUSE THIS IS BARELY EDITIED AND IM SLEEP DEPRIVED !!!

[mclennonlgbt]

(JUST LIKE) STARTING OVER WAS DEFINITELY FOR PAUL – a compilation

A meaningful wordplay As you know, John attached great importance to the lyrics of his songs. He liked to smuggle in word games and hidden meanings. Let's look at a fragment of the lyrics of "(Just Like) Starting Over". It's time to spread our wings and fly Wings was Paul's band in the 1970s.

Don't let another day go by

"Another Day" is a song by Paul and Linda that was released as the A-side of a non-album single in February 1971. It was Paul's debut single, following the Beatles break-up in 1970. (Sidenote: giving credits to both himself and Linda, Paul broke up the Lennon-McCartney partnership, angering Allen Klein).

my love

"My Love" is a 1973 song by Wings. The single was viewed as Wings' first significant success.

2. The demos

In the first demo, John uses the word "walrus":

Everyday we used to make it love so why can’t we be making love – it’s easy. The time has come, the walrus said, for you and me to stay in bed again, it’ll be just like starting over

The walrus is a famous motif from Beatles songs. In the song "I Am The Walrus" (1967) John declares that he is the titular walrus, a year later in "Glass Onion" he stated: „And here’s another clue to you all – the walrus was Paul”. In "God" (1970) John sings: "I was the walrus." In an interview from 1969 or 1970, George jokes: „And if you are listening, I am the walrus too”. Regardless of which Beatles was the walrus, John is for sure giving us an interesting clue here.

As for „in bed”:

Here's another fascinating demo... This requires no comment. It's just that John suddenly referred to "Why Don't We Do it In the Road", a song by Paul from the Beatles era.

EDIT:

The whole fragment is:

Just take your clothes off honey, and stick your nose in money.. why don’t we… do it in the road?! (Laughs) A little hotel where we used to screw A little place down in Montauk Just you, me, the cook and the servants too

As @i-am-the-oyster pointed out (the screen is theirs) - it's a 17 minute drive from Paul's house in the Hamptons to Montauk Motel.

3. John explaining who the song is for

„I’m not aiming, I am not aiming at 16 year olds. If they can dig it, please dig it. But when I was singing and writing this and working with her, I was visualizing all the people of my age group from the 60s. Being in their 30s and 40s now, just like me, and having wives and children and having gone through everything together, I am singing to them! I hope the young kids like it as well, but I’m really talking to the people that grew up with me and saying: „Here I am now, how are you? How’s your relationship going? Did you get through it all? Wasn’t the 70s a drag? You know, here we are, let’s try and make the 80s good, you know, because it’s still up to us to make what we can of it. It’s not out of our control”. I still believe in love, peace. I still believe in positive thinking when I can do it. I’m not always positive but when I am, I try and project it”.

Source: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=rqxPx2Tvf6A

Let’s point out that the song which convinced John to come out of retirement was „Coming up” by Paul. You want a love to last forever One that will never fade away I want to help you with your problem Stick around, I say

(…)

You want some peace and understanding So everybody can be free I know that we can get together We can make it, stick with me

BONUS (this is not evidence or premise, but maybe Paul understood that the song was addressed to him): Paul's reaction to the song after John's death.

„…Time passed. Paul locked the door of his home studio and played (Just Like) Starting Over, the first single from Double Fantasy. Top volume. For days”.

- Christopher Sandford, „McCartney”

EDIT:

(it's also @i-am-the-oyster's reveal): One Sweet Dream podcast did an interview where May Pang agreed with the host (JL)SO was for Paul and emphasised that it wasn't about Yoko -- it's a patrons-only episode so I can't link it, but it's April 2023, around the 1h29 mark).

[priceyprice]

"I love you." Simon said as he stared at the little flower blooming in the back of his yard, captivating anyone with its beauty and fragility.

His fingers caressed the petals, ever so lightly, almost not touching it, afraid of breaking one. His eyes were only focused on the vibrant plant, looking as if it's going to give him the slightest bit of sign.

A sign that she's alive.

His chest tightens, that awful and familiar feeling appearing again as it does since a long time. His mind wanders away, remembering the times he has seen her taking care of this beautiful flower, spraying it, talking with it and even just sit there and stare at it, letting all her stress go away. He asked her why that flower was so important for her since that flower is very common everywhere they go to do their missions. She just looked up at him, her lips forming a smile, making him skip a beat.

"Because everywhere we go and I see one of them, I can remember my home is here, with you."

That was the last time he was Simon.

That was the last time he saw her beautiful smile before she disappeared.

It has been nearly one year since his lover went MIA. The team was on a mission going after a drug dealer and human trafficker who was getting tracked by the government for years. They went to ambush one of his buildings when some information got leaked, indicating he was staying there. The team managed to get a lot of his underlings, and Ghost managed to kill a few, decreasing some of the huge empire the man had, but he managed to run away. The captain told his team to come back to their initial point to reunite, and they did.

Except for her.

The team tried to search for her in the area, but it was in vain. Her radio was off, and her signal was lost.

She completely disappeared.

They know that powerful man took her, but they don't have any signs of where she could've been. Some information they got from an intel said she could be in South America since that's where the organization sometimes goes to do some trafficking.

Other people say that she's dead. They say there's no hope for him to keep searching if she really got caught by that organization.

But Simon doesn't believe it.

They had so many plans together. They wanted to get married in a few years and buy a bigger house to the possibility of a family, and when their retirement knocked on their door, they would've been traveling the world together. That's why she can't leave him without even sharing a last kiss with him.

If she's actually dead, he will bring her back to life...

...Even if it means selling his soul to the devil himself.

: : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : :

Just a little idea. :)

Next drabble here

[esmedelacroix]

"I hate it when you're not around,"

husband!miguel x f!reader ♡

10 Things I Hate About You ← mini-series masterlist

"Even worse when you make me cry" ← previous part

₊˚⊹♡₊˚⊹♡₊˚⊹♡₊˚⊹♡₊˚⊹♡₊˚⊹♡₊˚⊹♡₊˚⊹♡₊˚⊹♡₊˚⊹♡₊˚⊹♡₊˚⊹♡ ₊˚⊹

What Miguel didn't know was that you had already forgiven him. One of the hardest tasks in the world for you was to stay mad at him. You had forgiven him the moment he kissed your shoulder and said the simple words, "I'm sorry," Why? Because you love him. Maybe a little too much.

Most people would think that the words, "I'm sorry" have lost all meaning in your relationship. That the phrase is used by Miguel so much that it is just something he says to avoid disputes. That's not true though. You know that there is gravity behind every "I'm sorry," Miguel says.

That didn't stop the fact that Miguel hurt you. You just wanted him to feel the same pain you did. So you stopped visiting him at work and you stopped waiting for him to come home and just went straight to bed. It killed you not to be able to see him during the day, but you were upset. He made you cry, he deserved it.

. . .

Miguel's POV

Something has been missing from my days. I know exactly what it is but I've been trying to take my mind off of it. But how could I not think about her? My sweet angel that usually visits me is nowhere to be found today, just like yesterday and the day before. It's like eating a pb &j without the j or the pb or anything. It's like my days lose some of their meaning when she's not here with me.

An unfamiliar and chilling gloom cast on my office. Similar to the one that was there before I met the love of my life. It was too often an occurrence where things would be insane at work and it affected my home life with her.

She's never been this upset with me. But I guess once one thing happens over and over you begin to get tired. Is she perhaps getting tired of me? Just when I'd reached the peak of my overthinking spree, Peter B. barged into my office with Hobie, Gwen, and Mayday.

"Alright Miguel we've had enough," Peter started stomping up to me.

"Enough of what," I deadpanned.

"Enough of your sulking and enough of your wife not being here, we're friends with her. We all miss her," Gwen continued.

"You do know why she's so upset with you, right?" Hobie asked.

I finally turned away from my screens and faced the group interrogating me. "Because... I've been working too much?" he answered.

"No, she's used to that. It's because of Justine," Hobie interjected.

"Justine?" he repeated, confused.

"Yes Justine, the girl you keep running to instead of spending time with your wife," Gwen said.

"The girl you keep choosing over your wife," Peter B added.

"The girl you're cheating on your wife with," Hobie interjected.

"Woah woah hold your horses. I'm not cheating on my wife with Justine!? That's absurd! I can barely stand her!" he retired. He didn't raise his voice but his tone was definitely unusually unstable.

"But do you see how she could think that you're choosing Justine over her?" Peter asked.

"I mean I guess so but I was just following protocol," he replied.

"You could've waited until after lunch," Gwen responded.

"She needed a friend the night she went to her universe. I see myself in her. I was only trying to help. I couldn't imagine being with another woman that's not my love," he insisted.

"Well, you have to say that all to her, not us. It sounds like you guys have a bit of a communication problem," Hobie replied.

"Dios mío[my God], I can't believe I'm getting advice from a kid," he whispered to himself.

"Well you better take that advice," Peter answered.

"But she doesn't want to see me," he sighed, sinking down into his seat.

"Do you really believe that?" Peter B asked raising a brow and placing a firm hand on his shoulder.

With that encouragement, Miguel dropped all his work and swung to your home hoping you wouldn't already be asleep. Like the whole universe was against him, little problems kept coming up on the way. An old lady's cat stuck in a tree, bodega robbery, bank robbery, you name it.

None of that would stop him from coming home to you on time.

. . .

next part → "And the fact that you didn't call,"

₊˚⊹♡₊˚⊹♡₊˚⊹♡₊˚⊹♡₊˚⊹♡₊˚⊹♡₊˚⊹♡₊˚⊹♡₊˚⊹♡₊˚⊹♡₊˚⊹♡₊˚⊹♡ ₊˚⊹

taglist: @lilscast @lazyjellyfish300 @safixiovi @saaaaaaaaaaaamiiiiiiiiiiira @aktenati @vera4luv @skylertully @boringpersonality @ce3stvu @straw-berry-ghoul @holachaoholachoa

[pixiemunsons]

you're so cute (em)

your boyfriend was always so scared of corrupting you, he never considered that that might be just how you wanted it. time to convince him.

a/n: i can't believe how many people liked for your viewing pleasure! i'm so excited to share this one with you. hope u love it<3

smutty smut smut, use of slut and whore during sex, reader thinks she's in control but she's not<3, soft!dom eddie, spit play, semi public bathroom sex, choking, rough sex, the ending's cringe because i didn't know how to end it, reader is a cheerleader and fits into an oversized t-shirt of eddie's but no explicit mention of body size. eddie and reader flirt like he's cheating on her but he's not you'll see what i mean. no use of y/n

cute was very quickly becoming your least favourite word.

you used to love it. when boys told you you looked ‘cute’ at parties, when your friends told you your outfit for school was ‘so cute’, when your mother picked out ‘the cutest’ swimsuits for you to wear on holiday. you revelled in the fuzzy socks and pink wallpapered life you existed in. perfect cheer practice, ill-be-home-for-nine-daddy, milkshakes in a 50s diner with a boy whose hand would never creep any further up your leg than your knee. 

but then eddie munson exploded into your life. and dragged along behind him in a shitty, beat up van came a whole new world.

───

‘sweetheart, y’know i’d love nothing more, but it’s just not your kinda scene. you wouldn’t enjoy yourself.’ eddie felt terrible for cancelling your upstanding saturday night together, but gareth had begged him to go to a gig at the hideout, and whilst he really couldn’t care less about a rush cover - prog rock was definitely not his usual scene - he’d bailed on his friends at least twice this month already, and it was starting to get hard to hide what was going on from everyone.

not that you really wanted to. but cmon; the rebel and the good girl? it was bad enough when grease did it. and if people were to find out, then both of you would end up miserable, at least in hawkins. so it was easier to have spaces devoted to just you; eddie’s bedroom, his van, skull rock when you were feeling particularly risky. once or twice you’d managed to drive to a town an hour or so away, where no one knew either of you, and you’d almost cried the first time you’d held his hand in public.

still, that wasn’t going to stop you from pouting about not being able to go with him. sure, you were more pretty in pink than pink floyd, but anything could be a good time with eddie. you sighed down the phone, fiddling with the edge of your bed sheet as you spoke.

‘you better not meet any girls there,’ you teased, and you could hear the smile in his voice when he replied.

‘i’d never find anyone as cute as you, baby. i gotta go, listen i’ll swing by sunday for fifteen, how’s that? i gotta go, love you sweetheart.’ his voice was crackly on the shitty line, but one word stood out.

cute.

that’s what you were, you supposed. soft. sweet. cute. 

when you had lost your virginity to eddie, he’d been so careful and gentle, making love to you like you’d always imagined. but it had never gone further than that, and you knew he was capable of so much more. you’d heard the locker room talk after gym, seen the black bandana hanging out of his tight jeans, felt the way he held himself back when he was inside you as if you were a precious porcelain doll he was terrified of breaking. well, you thought, maybe it was time you put an end to that. and, well, when’s a better time than the present?

‘yeah, baby, love you too. see you later.’

───

it had taken two hours to get ready, not including the hour you’d had to wait for your parents to get ready and get out of the house, off to some retirement party or other. your mother had waved you goodbye with a twenty, not before checking at least three times that you would be fine on your own overnight. and as soon as they’d left, you began.

and you thought you looked pretty fuckin’ hot.

gone was the cheerleader’s outfit and sensible white tennis shoes. eddie had left enough clothes at your house for you to fashion an outfit, and what he didn’t provide you could put together from some old clothes in the back of your closet. you were wearing your hair down for once, and black eyeliner was smeared around your eyes in a semi-messy, semi-sexy style. eddie’s big, worn black sabbath shirt was tucked into a pair of black denim shorts you’d bought secretly on a shopping trip a few months back. your old tights were ripped in a few places, and you finished the outfit off with your black high top chucks; you’d had to beg your dad for weeks to buy them for you, convincing him finally that they went best with the green of the hawkins high sports teams, and all of the other girls had them.

the drive to the hideout was filled with nervous energy. you tried playing some van halen cassette that eddie had left in your car to gear yourself up, but hot for teacher reallywasn’t calming your nerves. so you simply switched it off and drove the five miles in silence, contemplating what you were about to do. getting in wasn’t the issue; they almost never took id, and even if they did, you weren’t sure the bouncers could even read to work out how old your date of birth made you. 

the bar was absolutely packed out when you arrived, and you weren’t even sure you’d be able to find your boyfriend through the thick crowd of leather jackets and long hair and doc marten boots. you half considered standing on a table, but you wanted to find him before he found you. so you worked your way through the throng, muttering ‘excuse me’s and ‘thank you’s as you navigated the sticky carpet. then, in the corner of your eye, right at the end of the bar, you spotted a figure slouching against the wall, beer in one hand and the other in a jacket pocket. a jacket with dio painted on the back. grin plastered on your face, you walked over to eddie quietly, leaning up to his ear from behind.

‘hey honey, you gonna let me buy you a drink?’

you saw his arm jump at the slight intrusion, beer sloshing over the rim of the cup, but he barely turned his head towards you.

‘nah, i’m cool, i got a girl.’ you cocked an eyebrow, placing a hand on his left shoulder.

‘is that right, babe?’

you heard him huff in annoyance, making to turn around and face you fully.

‘yeah, i fuckin’ do, so- jesus h christ!’

you had never heard eddie as silent as when his eyes scanned your form, lingering over the ripped lines on your thigh and the curve of your ass in particular with his jaw wide open. you hadn’t expected his reaction to be so visceral, and the way his face transformed had you clenching your thighs together. eddie thought you were hot in your cute little everyday outfits, but this?

you were a goddamned wet dream.

‘what brings you here…?’ you quirked an eyebrow up at him questioningly, smoothing down the collar of his t-shirt, and he gulped loudly, seemingly getting the hint.

‘e-eddie.’

you smiled, all teeth, and ran your hand further down his front, hooking it around his waist and stepping forward so you were chest to chest. you could feel his heart beating wildly against your front, and you hoped to god he couldn’t feel yours.

‘cute name for a hot guy,’ you winked. ‘surprised your girlfriend lets you out alone.’ something about the way you said girlfriend, dripping with seduction, seemed to snap something in him, and he leant down so his lips brushed against your ear, his hot breath sending heat directly to your centre.

‘she was gonna come, but she’s got cheerleading practise in the morning.’

‘ah, a cheerleader? she sounds like a good girl.’ he smirked down at you, laughing lightly, and reached a hand to tug your hips against his.

‘i think she likes people to think she is. she dresses in all this cute shit usually, puts a show on. but really, deep down inside? i think she’s a dirty little whore who wants her shit rocking.’

any modicum of dominance you were holding onto fell from your grasp at his words. you had allowed him to slowly back you up against a pillar, and were now standing with his legs between yours and his head tucked into your neck. with a thrill, you realised that people probably thought he was kissing your neck, thought that the hand gripping your waist was feeling you up, and you couldn’t deny it was turning you the fuck on. you clutched onto his waist, keening up against him and whining as he pressed a sharp-teethed kiss onto the delicate skin of your throat, and it took everything you had not to groan aloud.

‘what do you think, honey?’ he asked, and you made dazed eye contact with him. 

‘hmm?’

‘i said,’ eddie growled, ‘what do you think? my girlfriend. she a slut?’ his voice was gravelly, and you could tell you’d almost pushed him to where you wanted him; breaking point. so you pushed your chest forward, and looked him in the eye.

‘i think, eddie,’ your voice sounded husky and sexy under the music booming through the club, and you reached to lace your fingers through his belt loops. ‘that i would let you do whatever you wanted to me, and i’d do it better than your girl can.’

───

you had no idea what to expect of the hideout’s bathroom. you’d never been in a bar like this before. not that it mattered; before you could get a good look at it, your back was pressed against the locked door and eddie’s tongue was down your throat.

‘i can’t fuckin’ believe you turned up here,’ eddie gasped, running his teeth down the column of your throat and letting out a moan when you pulled on a handful of his hair.

‘didn’t think it was your scene, princess.’ he adjusted his grip on your thigh, pulling your feet to link behind his waist, and you could feel a bulge pressing against your core through two layers of denim.

‘wasn’t really the cheerleader’s,’ you breathed out, gripping his leather jacket to pull his mouth back to yours. ‘but ’s definitely mine.’ this time, he was barely kissing you; instead, he was nipping at your lips, stroking his tongue against yours, and you weren’t sure if it was his spit or yours that was dripping down your chin.

‘does this you fuck in bathrooms?’ he asked, and you couldn’t help but laugh as he grinned down at you. you knew eddie would never do anything you didn’t want, but you also knew this was the beginning of a whole new aspect of your life together.

‘eddie, this version of me wants you to fucking destroy her in this bathroom.’ eddie’s eyes went dark, and he tilted your chin up, forcing you to meet them.

‘baby, do you know what you’re asking for?’ you sighed at him, rolling your eyes.

‘i’m so sick of everyone treating me like i’m gonna break! eddie, i can take whatever you got. whatever you wanna give me. i jus- i just want you to fuck me like i know you can. like i know you want to.’

‘in that case, princess,’ he looked downright sinful as he spoke, stroking your face with a ringed hand before slapping it lightly, ‘hold on tight.’

suddenly, you were in the air, and your ass was landing on the cold porcelain sink behind you. you put your hands out to steady yourself, gripping onto the edge, and eddie looked at you approvingly.

‘good, you’re learning quick. open that dirty mouth.’

you opened up, sticking your tongue out a little, and eddie came to settle himself between your open legs. his large hand gripping your chin once more, your eyes fluttered shut, anticipating his next move. you felt something wet touch your tongue, looking up to see a trail of spit connecting your mouth to his.

‘don’t swallow yet,’ he demanded, and you could’ve cum on the spot. he just spat in your fucking mouth and you let him, wanted him to. two thick fingers made their way into your mouth, playing with your mixed saliva, rubbing it into your tongue and pushing themselves down your throat until you were gagging and your eyeliner was streaming.

‘aww baby, are you sure you can take it? choking on my fingers already, my cock’s gonna fuck you completely dumb, ’s that right?’ his voice was taunting, harsh and going straight to your pussy, and it was all you could do to concentrate on nodding your head as you drooled around his fingers.

then they were gone, and you went to chase them out of your mouth, whining at the loss, but a sharp slap against your inner thigh had you mewling and pulling away.

‘gonna have to be a good girl f’me, princess. wanna get down for me?’

you were on your knees before he could push you down, yanking his pants down and taking his boxers with them. you weren’t even gonna pretend to tease, no kitten kicks or soft kisses to the tip. instead, you spat right on the head, just like eddie’d spat on your tongue not two minutes earlier, and took his unbelievably hard dick as far as you could.

‘jesus fuckin’-, sweetheart, are you okay?’ eddie looked almost concerned, and he went to card a hand through your hair reassuringly. instead, you caught it halfway and slowly, nervously, traced it down your face, past where you were connected, and down to the swell of your neck. you placed his hand there, looking hopefully up at him, and he took the hint and squeezed.

‘o-oh, honey, is that- you gotta be fuckin’ kiddin’ me, it’s buried in there, holy sh-‘ eddie could feel his cock moving through the skin of your throat, feel it in his hand how you swallowed around the thickness of him, how your muscles contracted and tried to push him out.

‘think this face was made for fuckin’, baby, what’d’you think?’ you moaned around his length, pushing yourself down on it even further, and you could hear him breathe in sharply above you.

‘christ, honey, i need to get out. i wanna fuck you, need to feel how wet that pussy is.’ eddie grabbed your hair and pulled you back to your feet, kissing your slick mouth and revelling in the way you pressed against him, tasting himself on you.

‘bend over the sink for me, princess.’

you were practically grinding back against him already, hips swivelling on nothing. you hadn’t noticed the mirror when eddie had first pushed you into the stall, but you finally caught a glimpse of yourself and- holy hell.

your eyeliner was dripping down your face, and where it had previously stylishly smudged it was now destroyed, smeared around your cheeks. your hair was a knotty mess, nose snotty and drool seeping out of the edges of your mouth. yet, somehow, you felt so powerful. you’d taken control of the situation, got what you wanted and, you’d discovered, looked pretty hot when you were all fucked out. behind you, eddie already had your shorts pulled down your thighs, and he was making moves to eat you out until you cried when your hand came back to stop him.

‘baby,’ you panted, vice-like grip on his wrist, ‘i need you. ‘m wet enough, promise, just put it in, please.’

eddie never much liked passing up on foreplay with you. he always took his time, made you come once or twice with his fingers and tongue before he eased himself into you. you very rarely had to do anything to get him going; he’d spend so long on you, he’d be bursting to cum before you’d even started. but the tables had been turned and he had the power here. so he yanked your panties down and sank himself to the hilt in your pussy.

‘eddie, fuck!’ you cried out as soon as he bottomed out, head dropping down so your forehead was touching the porcelain sink. instantly, a hand wound it’s way around the back of your neck and yanked your head back.

‘i’m gonna need you to watch, babe. watch yourself get fucked out, there’s a good girl.’ you whined at his words, meeting his eyes in the mirror. he looked as wild as you; hair sticking up all over, fringe plastered to his forehead, and his eyes were fixed on the place where you met. it was all too much, too hot, and before you knew it your eyes were closed again. the hand braced against your hip delivered a sharp slap to your ass, the other gripping your hair and pulling your head back.

‘stop fuckin’ looking away, baby, i’m not gonna tell you again,’ he spat, delivering a particularly deep thrust that had your knees buckling under you.

‘i want you to look at yourself in the mirror while i stuff you up. you’re gonna let me fuck you in a public space like a dirty slut, you’re gonna get fucking treated like one, do you understand me?’ you could only moan in response, and he let go of your hair in favour of wrapping his hand around your neck. your back was arched against him, his rings chilly and biting against the hot skin of your throat, and he lowered his voice to a dangerous whisper against your ear.

‘sweetheart, if you don’t give me an answer right now, i’ll cum inside you and make you walk out in front of all of those people with it dripping down your legs. so, i’ll ask you again, and i want you to answer me properly. are you going to be a good girl, like i know you can be, and keep watching us, or do i need to repeat myself?’

‘yes, yes eddie, i’ll be so good for you, your good girl, please make me cum, gotta come so bad,’ you were babbling now, and eddie knew you were close. picking up the pace, he gripped your neck even harder, and now you were dizzy and chasing your orgasm and your eyes were pricking tears at how hard you were trying to keep eye contact.

then he bit your shoulder and it was all you needed to push you over the edge, one hand gripping the sink and the other clinging onto the hand wrapped around your neck as you pushed back against him, triggering his own orgasm. he came inside you, deep and hot, and you could hear him rambling as he rode you both through it.

‘jesus christ if i knew you had it in you i’d have been fuckin’ you like this for months, so beautiful, so- shit, so good for me sweetheart, can’t believe you let me do this to you…’ his forehead rested against your shoulder gently, and you leant a hand back to smooth his hair out.

‘was- was that too much?’

you whirled around in surprise, hissing slightly as eddie’s cock slipped out of you, and took his face in both hands.

‘fuck, eddie, that was the hottest shit that’s ever happened to me! and one to tick off the bucket list,’ you shrugged, laughing as his face lit up.

‘bucket list, huh?’

‘oh baby, i gotta whoooole lotta shit to cross off it,’ you winked, giggling as he swooped you up in his arms to kiss you again.

[lostquinn]

Love sick pt 2

(Simon Ghost Riley x gn!reader)

Fluff, flirting

Summary - your sleep is interrupted when the boys return from a mission and someone wants your attention

Hhh God it's been a while but here ya go! I hope ya'll enjoy this fluffy little moment. Lil warning, Ghost is a lil possessive? @cupid-eclipse I am so sorry this took so long please forgive me 🙏

Word count - 660

It had been a few weeks since Simon had kissed your temple and promised you one day he'd make you his. He'd been away on a mission with the rest of the team for a few days and you'd stayed behind due to a field injury.

It was the middle of the night when you heard it. You were tucked up in bed, half asleep with your head pressed against the pillows and Clive, your teddy bear, in your arms.

A soft chuckle drew your attention. Someone stood outside your room, chuckling and trying to stay quiet. The door clicked open, and Soap entered with a grin.

The scot watched as you sat up and ran a hand through your hair, squinting at him in the darkness. He flopped himself down on your bed and cuddled up to you.

"Not who you were expecting, eh bonnie?" He chuckled softly.

"How was the mission, Johnny?" You asked, rolling your eyes as you clicked the lamp on and hugged him.

"Can't get mad at us, bonnie," he mumbled, staring up at you.

"What happened?"

"Your boy Ghost took some hits," he closed his eyes, as if not wanting to see your reaction.

You had been filled with the warm fuzzy feeling of excitement, eager to see him again and hold onto your closest friend however, that was swiftly crushed.

The fear that he was hurt badly overwhelmed you, and panic rushed through your mind. What if he died? What if he had to retire?

"He's - he isn't my boy," you mumbled, staring down at Johnny with worry written across your face.

"Sure," Johnny chuckled softly, shaking his head for a moment as he yawned and started falling asleep in your bed. "Would be if you asked him,"

You glared down at Johnny for a moment before the light tapping of knuckles on your door pulled your attention away, and you climbed out of bed.

You opened the door quietly and were met with Ghost's mask, his eyes glancing around your room before staring down at you.

"See you've already got another man in your bed," he smirked, teasing you.

"Oh shut up, it's just Johnny," you chuckled softly, shaking your head. "Heard you were hurt,"

"Nothing serious, love, no need to worry," he mumbled, wrapping his arm around you and putting his hand on the small of your back. He gently pulled you closer as he leant against the doorframe.

"Serious enough for Johnny to warn me," you pouted softly.

"Just a few bullet holes, nothing new, maybe you should kiss em better for me," he smiled, pressing a gentle kiss to your forehead.

"You don't mean that," you mumbled, trying more to convince yourself he couldn't mean those things when it came to you rather than him.

"I always mean it with you," he chuckled softly. "He seems to take up a lot of your bed," Ghost muttered softly, staring over at Johnny, who was now fast asleep and sprawled out on your bed.

"Yeah, he normally comes and shares mine, says it's comfier," you shrugged, not minding it. Johnny appearing in your room after a mission was a common occurrence at this point.

"Won't be allowed to do that when I'm your boyfriend," he spoke softly, almost as if thinking out loud.

"W-what?" You squeaked, staring up at him with wide eyes and a blush spreading across your face.

"You heard me," he grinned down at you. "Why don't you share my bed tonight?"

You blinked up at him for a moment, almost not believing what you'd heard as you stared at him. He rolled his eyes and chuckled, lifting you up over his shoulder and carrying you away.

"You're mine, luvvie, don't want you sharing beds with anyone but me," he spoke softly, carrying you off towards his room.

"Stop with the teasing, asshole," you muttered, shaking your head.

"I mean it, I want to be your boyfriend,"

[spidybaby]

Stressed

Summary: When he's stressed and worried about work, that's the only thing on his mind.

Warnings: angst because I'm a sucker for it 😤

A/N: So I'm inspired, and you already know I love angst, I breathe angst, I eat angst. (Okay, I'm done exaggerating), but lemme know how you are? Are you drinking water? Hope you're fine 💐❤️

Since Kylian sent that letter to the higher-ups of PSG about not wanting to stay until 2025, everything is drama.

The french tabloids, for some reason, want him to look bad, want him to look like this ungrateful man.

He's experiencing too much pressure, Sergio leaving, Lionel leaving, possibly Verrati leaving. It was a mess. The whole teams is.

Especially now that this dumb reporter, her name is Sam, she's all over him about the whole side of him about the leaving, the selling, the quitting of Galtier. He's done with her, with the other reporters, with the ultras hating him for even breathing.

"Don't worry, Kyky, everything's going to be fine." Sergio pat his back, Kylian was one of the first ones to know about his retirement of the club. "Don't let that chick got to you."

"I just want her away from me." He drinks too fast for what he's used to. "Can't she cover something else?"

"Look, hermano." Ney says, he had to deal with the same reporter a few months before. "Just tell her something completely different from what she's asking, and she'll leave."

He knows she just wants to write something before anyone else, something that comes from his own, not for speculation. "Lie to her."

He scuff, it's not that easy to be away from her when she's also part of the PSG press people. She has access to everywhere. That makes him uncomfortable.

"Mira Kylian." Leo says. He's not new to this whole press drama. "Just don't mind her, ignore her, saying you have to be somewhere." He smiles, nodding to his advice.

Leo and Sergio are the ones he trusts with this media hate. They're goats, and they come from a long road. He can't deny that even Neymar is an expert. But he's been there for his own stupid mind, even tho he denied it.

He followed the advice Leo gave him, always ignoring her, saying the usual bonjour or a revoir. Nothing else.

That made her mad. She even asked Galtier for his number, not caring about writing him. That took him to the limit. He couldn't escape her. She was everywhere and anywhere at the same time.

"Don't stress, mon amour." You say kissing his cheek. You're massaging him, wanting to help him relax. "I know it's hard, but I'm here for you. It's only you and me."

You tried everything for him to relax, you didn't know the whole story. He never told you about this reporter. So you only think it's because of the whole letter drama.

♤♤♤♤♤♤♤♤♤♤♤♤♤♤♤♤♤♤♤♤♤♤♤♤♤♤♤♤♤♤

"Bonjour, Kylian." Sam says, looking at him. She's blocking the door of the lockers. "Can we talk." She raised her eyebrows.

"I'm busy." He tries to pass her, but she's not moving, and the last thing he wants is touching her or making any type of contact. "Please move."

"Just five minutes." She says, begging him. "And I'll leave you alone forever."

"I prefer you to leave me alone now." His voice is this deep tone. He's done with her games. "Get out of the way." He ask nicely.

"Four minutes." She begged again.

"Sam, out of the way."

"Three."

He breathes deeply, and he's losing his temper. "I'll say it only one more time, and believe me, that I hate repeating myself." He grabs her arm, not hard but the right amount of pressure to move her gently. "I'm busy." He's mad. His whole day is ruined, thanks to her.

He enters his car, asking the driver to take him home. He's supposed to go to his mother's house, but he's too mad for that.

He arrived home funding. His train bag is now on the floor, you're home early, and you notice the noise, thinking maybe he fell.

"Are you okay?" You ask from your bedroom. Maybe he's hurt. "Ky? Amour?" You talk louder this time.

After a few minutes, you hear the footsteps on the stairs. A very agitated Kylian enters the room. "Hi, handsome." You say, opening your arms to him.

"Remember how you said you can take the stress out of me?" He sais breathless, you nod smiling. "Do it."

You throw the covers away from you. Ready to attack your boyfriend with kisses and attention. Your lips feel heavy on his own. He's tense. You can feel him.

There was no other reason for his mind to be elsewhere, hes uncomfortable by the fact that he has Sam on the back of his head, tunning after him, basically harrassi him.

There's no other reason for him to focus on anything other than you. The way your lips feel on his neck, the way your hands are touching the right places, the way you're making him feel good.

His hips are moving to a very fast pace. He's not one to take his frustration on you, but the way you're moaning his name and how your nails are scratching his back is making him lose control.

He doesn't know how, but it happens. He can't take her name out of his mind, now even when you're taking him so well.

When he dips his hips at a certain angle, the back of your head digs further into the pillow, and he attacks the exposed side of your neck. He's leaving red marks, marking you as his. The groan that's escaping his lips are pornographyc.

You could feel nothing but him, the weight of his body over yours, the thin layer of sweat on his back under your fingertips and on his forehead, making the hair close to your neck to stick to it.

What's making the entire situation so much worse is the fact that no matter how much he tries, he can't stop thinking about her. Not in a sexual way, but angrily wanting her to go away, to leave his mind alone.

His hand is griping your waist so hard. He knows he'll leave a mark. Moans coming out of his mouth. “Fuck, you feel so good.” he goes faster, knowing by the sounds you're making that you're close.

"Sam-" that's when he stops. His whole body stop. He doesn't know why he's saying her name. His eyes are open in a panic.

"Get off," you say out of breath. Your heart is beating as fast as if it's going off your body. "Get off of me."

You push his shoulders for him to get off of you. He pulled out and tried to explain. "Y/n, please, I didn't mean to do that."

Your mind is lost, one moment you're under him, holding him closer, kissing him and enjoying him.

And now you're pushing him away, not wanting him to touch you. You grab the covers of the bed. You wrap it around your body before running to the bathroom.

"Amour, please." He tries to grab your arms. "Amour." He almost catch you, but he's not fast enough.

The next thing he knows is you slamming the door in his face. He can hear the way you're breathing and how you sob. The sound is making his heart hurt.

"I promise I wasn't-" he can't even think of an excuse. He's fucked up, he's hearing the way you're crying and can't think of how to solve it. "Listen, she's a reporter that has been harassing me. She's always on me, and I".

You open the door, interrupting his explanation. You're standing there, tears running down your face, blanket around your body, eyes sad.

"Mon amour." He doesn't know if he can touch you. He doesn't want to make you more uncomfortable than what you already are. "I promise it's not what you think."

You pass him, walking to the room to get your clothes, dressing yourself again, hurried to get away from him.

"Please don't go." He says, hand grabbing your arm. "Please, let me explain." He feels like crying, not wanting to let go.

"Not now." You get off his hold. "I can't do this. Please get away from me." You push him lightly.

"Don't go, I'll go, but you don't have to go." He dresses himself, not wanting you to leave. "I'm fucking sorry." Your back is facing him. You can't look at him in the eyes.

♤♤♤♤♤♤♤♤♤♤♤♤♤♤♤♤♤♤♤♤♤♤♤♤♤♤♤♤♤♤

The past week, you were running away from Kylian, leaving extra early for work and returning while he was still training.

For him, it was hard not being able to speak with you. But you needed time, and he's willing to let you have it. Even if that hurt him in the process.

For you, it's been weird. You can't wrap your mind around the fact of what's going on. For you, it hurts that he didn't trust you enough to talk to you about what's happening, and the other part of you is your ego being hurt by him naming another girls name.

You were sure with a talk and being honest, you both can make up. You trusted him when he says he has never been with her, but you also needed to know the whole story.

The sound of keys jiggling is the way you know he's home. When he walks he sees you sitting on the couch.

He's tired, everyone is hating on him for the stupid tabloids, and he can't even find comfort in your arms because he hurt you without intended to.

"Can we talk?" He swears the sound of your voice is magical. He missed it. He missed you. He nods and takes a seat next to you. "Who's Sam?"

He didn't hesitate to detail the whole thing. The things his playmates advised him. "Kylian, why didn't you report her to the management?" You're mad, not with him but with her for being such a bitch and harass him about a stupid football news.

"Because I thought she was going to leave me alone." He yells, frustrated. "I can't do this anymore."

You hug him, caressing his back and him cry his frustration. His not crying about her. He's crying about the news, about the hate, about the media not leaving him alone.

"I'm here, don't cry." You kiss the top of his head. "I'm sorry I didn't hear you before."

"It's not you, I'm the one who made the mistake of letting her abuse her power." He let you dry his tears. "I'm so done."

"It's not your fault. Don't say that." You kiss his cheeks. "You're fine now, I'm not letting her or anyone hurt you or make you feel uncomfortable." You hugged him. Promising you'll never let him feel that way again.