#They did not a child the last time you spoke with them

[forest-hashira]

Bunnies & Bite Marks

i was able to hop onto @lorelune's spring fever a/b/o event super last minute last night, so this is my entry for that! (technically i did finish this fic before midnight but i didn't have the energy to format it then, so it's going up now, haha). i apologize in advance bc this is definitely the filthiest thing i've ever written. i don't know where most of this came from (i think the boys possessed me and ghostwrote it tbh). i was enabled by aleks to put this on paper, so... thank him lol

read on ao3 here | wc: ~8.1k | cw: a/b/o dynamics/omegaverse, hybrid au (fox geto, bunny reader, bunny gojo), gn afab!reader (afab anatomy terms used), alpha geto, omega reader, omega gojo, established stsg, oral sex (reader receiving), threesome, multiple orgasms, knotting, biting/claiming, mating bonds, intersex omega (gojo has a penis & a vagina), unprotected sex, creampies, gojo has a praise kink & a degradation kink, a little bit of voyeurism, multiple discussions of consent, i'm pretty sure that's everything! 18+ only, ageless/blank blogs & minors dni.

You were still trying to figure out how you’d ended up in this situation.

Growing up, your parents had warned you countless times about Big Bad Wolves, told you to watch out for their pointed lies and pointier teeth, but they’d never warned you about foxes and their silver tongues.

Now that you thought about it, your parents were probably being more metaphoric than you thought as a child, but it was a little late to come to that realization, seeing as you were already underneath a particularly sly fox and completely at his mercy.

But how were you supposed to not trust him, not fall for him? His dark eyes were so kind, his little smile so warm… and he’d had another bunny hanging off of him, inviting you to spend time with them, to get to know them. And somehow in just a few short months, you were coaxed into bed by that same welcoming bunny and kind fox.

A small tug at your ear brought you back to the present, and you blinked, looking up into those dark eyes, now a few shades darker with desire – hunger, your instincts told you, making your heart pound even faster in your ribcage.

“Where’d you go, little one? You left us for a second there.” Suguru’s voice was low and rumbling, but you could hear the genuine concern woven in with the lust that laced his tone.

“They zoned out because you’re taking so damn long,” Satoru retorted from behind you before you had a chance to say anything. He hugged you a bit closer to his chest, trailing his lips across your cheek as he murmured, “Maybe we’ll just have to start without him, hm? Who needs an alpha, anyways? They're just knotheads, after all.”

Despite his bravado, you could feel the way your fellow bunny’s heart rate picked up as you both watched Suguru for his reaction.

To his credit, Suguru’s composure was nearly unshakeable; the only outward reaction to Satoru’s half-threat was a slight twitch of one of his elegant black fox ears, and he cocked his head slightly. “Is that so?” he questioned, then looked away from Satoru to focus on you. “You can believe him if you want, little one, because I know you’ve never been with an alpha before, but you should know he doesn’t even believe that himself. You should hear the way he begs for my knot like a cheap whore, even when he’s not in heat.”

Satoru shuddered behind you, and a soft puff of air ghosted across your skin as his grip tightened further around your waist. You’d known he was aroused before he held you so tight, but now it was undeniable, his hard cock pressed against your back, and the size of it made you jump slightly; if he was that big as an omega, then what the fuck was Suguru hiding in his pants? You shuddered at the thought, and you couldn’t stop the hint of fear that tinged your scent.

Both men stopped then, detecting the change in your scent. They exchanged a glance, and Suguru’s entire demeanor softened as he spoke again, lowering himself so he no longer towered over you where you sat on the bed with Satoru. “Do you want to stop?” he asked quietly, tilting his head slightly. “We don’t have to go through with this if you’re not comfortable.”

“We won’t be upset,” Satoru added, lightly rubbing his thumb back and forth across your stomach in an attempt to soothe you. “If you’re not enjoying yourself, we’ll stop. Your comfort and pleasure are really important to us.” 

Though you knew they were expecting an answer, you could tell they would be patient with you, even if it took you hours to decide one way or the other. You hesitated, taking a few moments to really examine how you were feeling, both physically and emotionally. The fear you felt was undeniable, but it was strongly rivaled by your desire, your prey instincts warring with your human wants. 

And really, you knew you were safe with them, even if Suguru was a predator. His self control was stronger than anyone else you’d ever met, and even if he somehow did lose control of himself and begin to succumb to his instincts, you were certain Satoru would do everything he could to protect you; he was stubborn and aggressive, especially for an omega, and a prey animal hybrid on top of that. 

Feeling comforted by that knowledge, you once again met the alpha’s gaze. “I want this,” you confirmed. “I want you – both of you.” 

Almost before the words were fully out of your mouth, the smell of arousal grew thick in the air, so heavy it should have choked you, but really you couldn’t get enough of it. Suguru’s was more potent, but it just made his scent a little smokier. Satoru’s, on the other hand, was sharp, a burst of cinnamon against the syrupy sweetness of his usual scent. Everything combined was so heady, so overwhelming in the best way possible, that your eyes fluttered shut, and you bit your lip to keep from moaning out loud.

“Ah-ah, none of that,” Suguru chided, reaching up and squishing your cheeks together slightly until your bottom lip was no longer caught between your teeth. 

Your eyes opened again at the touch, your pupils blown wide as you gazed down at the alpha in front of you.

“We want to hear you, little one. How else are we supposed to know if we’re making you feel good?”

“Sugu likes it noisy,” Satoru added, leaning in to whisper in your ear. He trailed one hand down your stomach to your thigh, rubbing little circles on the soft flesh of your inner thigh with his thumb as he spoke. “You’ll see soon enough, but he’s a talker… loves when I talk, too. Loves when he fucks me dumb and all I can do is moan and whine and whimper, all because of him…”

Though the other bunny was speaking to you, both of you had your eyes locked on the fox, all of you waiting for someone else to move first. Your heart pounded in time with Satoru’s, your bodies finding an odd, instinctual sort of comfort in each other; two prey hybrids against one predator.

Said predator’s gaze was still locked on yours, his lips curling into a hungry smirk, now that he knew that you wanted him – wanted them – just as bad as they wanted you. He shrugged slightly at Satoru’s words, and he pushed himself up from where he’d knelt on the floor in front of you, once again towering over you. 

“Since you were so quick to insist that you didn’t need me,” he cooed, taking a step back from the bed. “Why don’t you two get started, hm? Get them ready for me, pretty boy.”

Before you even had time to fully process the alpha’s words, Satoru was moaning in your ear, then practically dragging you further up the bed with him. 

A rather undignified squeak of surprise escaped you at the movement, but you were too taken aback to try and fight it at all. Next thing you knew, you were on your back, staring up at Satoru with wide eyes. 

“You ready?” he asked, eyes glinting as he stared down at you.

“I, uh… ready for what, exactly?” You felt your cheeks burn with both arousal and embarrassment, your brain already feeling a little unfocused, and they hadn’t even touched you yet.

“Sex, duh,” he replied, but he couldn’t quite stifle the giggle that accompanied his words. The sound helped relax you a bit, and you smiled up at him.

“I’m pretty sure we’re wearing too many clothes to have sex,” you told him, a soft laugh escaping you, and he grinned, winking playfully at you.

“That we are, little bunny,” he agreed, tugging lightly on your ear. “But I’m gonna take care of that right now, don’t you worry.”

You wrinkled your nose at him, and it twitched a bit, the movement involuntary. Pulling your ear from his hold, you frowned up at him. “You’re a bunny too, y’know.”

“Ah, yes, good catch! I, however, am not small, in any sense of the word. So you’re my little bunny.” His smile sharpened into a smirk, and the sight, combined with the implications of his words and the outline of cock that had been pressed against you mere moments before, had heat stirring in your belly. 

When you offered no further comments of protests, Satoru got to work ridding you of your clothes, so quickly you were worried he might tear them in his haste to have you naked beneath him. By the time he reached your bra, though, you batted his hands away.

“I’ll do this part, if you ruin this I’ll be very upset with you.” The bra wasn’t anything especially fancy, but you still took care of it as best you could, because you liked the way it made you look. “Besides,” you added, reaching around to undo the clasps. “Don’t you also have to be naked for us to have sex?”

Satoru pulled his shirt over his head as you spoke, and he huffed quietly when it got stuck on his ears for a moment. He smirked at you again afterwards, though. “Hmm, not necessarily, no. But I’ll be nice and get naked anyways.”

You rolled your eyes at his words as you tossed your bra off to the side, presumably in the direction all your other clothes had ended up. As you settled back against the pillows, you went to cross your arms over your chest out of habit, but stopped when you caught Suguru staring at you. He said nothing, but his meaning was clear: there would be no hiding from either of them tonight, or ever. You were theirs now.

In just a few seconds, though, your view of the fox was interrupted by your fellow bunny, who looked like he was ready to go all night with you and completely ignore his partner sitting in the chair across the room. “Lay back and spread your legs for me,” he encouraged. “I’m dying to taste that pretty little pussy of yours.”

His words came as a shock, and you felt your face burning all over again. “You don’t, uh. I mean, you don’t have to do that. Really.” You pressed your knees together as you spoke, unsure how to proceed. None of your former partners had ever expressed interest in going down on you, so you weren’t sure if Satoru felt obligated to do this, or what, but you didn’t expect him to frown at you.

“I know I don’t have to,” he confirmed. “But I want to. Like I really want to, if you’re comfortable with that.”

All you could do for a few long moments was stare at him, as if waiting for him to laugh at any second, for him to tease you for falling for such a silly prank, but he never did. His eyes were focused on your face, though they were now more black than blue because of how dilated they were.

“You can tell him no, little one,” Suguru assured from his seat across the room. “You’re calling the shots here. If you say no, it doesn’t happen.”

Once again comforted by his words – and baffled that you had so much control over this situation – you let out a soft, trembling breath, before looking back to Satoru. “If you really want to…” you agreed quietly, hesitating a moment longer before you complied with his earlier request, leaning back against the pillows and spreading your legs.

“I really do,” Satoru confirmed yet again, and as you spread your legs, his gaze instantly dropped to his prize. He was quick to settle down on his stomach, wrapping his arms around your thighs once he was eye-level with your cunt. 

“Fuck,” he breathed. “You’re dripping for us already.” He sounded almost in awe of you and your body as he spoke, and if his hold on your thighs had been any less sure, you would have slammed your legs shut again. As it was, you squirmed uselessly in his hold, face burning in embarrassment.

“Stop staring,” you whined, hoping you didn’t sound as flustered as you felt. “If you’re gonna use your mouth on me then get started already.” The attempted scowl on your face vanished as he bit down on the plush of your thigh, and you yelped. “That’s not what I meant!”

“Isn’t it?”

“Satoru,” Suguru chastised, and both of you froze at his tone. “Don’t be mean to them. Do what you promised, or I’ll have to punish you.”

Satoru’s ears dropped at the mention of a possible punishment, and he nodded slightly. “Yes, alpha,” he said, then pressed a gentle kiss to the spot he had bitten. “Sorry, little bunny,” he apologized quietly, holding your gaze as he spoke.

Still feeling a little baffled by how quickly Satoru had obeyed Suguru, you simply nodded your forgiveness.

He seemed to relax a bit then, and he dropped his gaze once again. His intense focus on such an intimate part of you had you feeling beyond flustered, so you leaned your head back into the pillows, staring intensely at the ceiling. You could feel his hot breath against your slick soaked skin, and you couldn’t for the life of you figure out what he was waiting for.

“It’s not very polite not to look at someone when they’re pleasuring you, little one.” Suguru’s voice had a teasing lilt to it, but you could tell he wasn’t entirely kidding.

Is that seriously what’s stopping him? you thought to yourself, but you didn’t say the words out loud. Instead, you replied, in a voice much smaller than you expected, “I can’t look at him.”

“Why not? Is something wrong?”

“No? I-I don’t… I don’t know,” you stammered. “Nobody’s ever gone down on me before. I can’t look at him while he does it.”

There was a beat of silence, then another.

“Can you look at me instead?”

That caught your attention. You lifted your head from the pillow once again, though this time you focused on the alpha across the room, rather than the omega between your legs. This is manageable.

“Hmm, there you are,” the fox hummed, giving you an encouraging smile. “Better?”

“Much,” you agreed quietly, and you were surprised to find that meeting his gaze was exactly the thing you needed to ground you.

“Good, I’m glad. You can start now, Satoru.”

The first swipe of his tongue up your folds had your whole body trying to jerk away from the touch, though the movement was involuntary. It didn’t feel bad – in fact it felt good, really good, as he pressed in closer, his tongue exploring places even your fingers had rarely touched. When he moaned against you, your head dropped backwards at the intensity of the feeling.

“Ah ah, little one.”

Suguru’s voice had Satoru stopping his movements, despite the fact that he wasn’t the one being spoken to. You whined pathetically as his tongue pulled away from you, and you couldn’t help but pout.

“Eyes on me,” Suguru continued, the words clearly directed at you, “or you don’t get to cum yet.”

Instantly your head shot up, and you stared at the alpha wide-eyed, breathing a little heavier than you had been before.

His expression was smug once you met his gaze, and even if you hadn’t been able to see his smirk, you would’ve been able to hear it in his voice. “Very good,” he praised.

With the confirmation that you were doing as you were told, Satoru was quick to get back to work, moaning into your skin as he licked up your slick. Some part of your brain was insisting that no omega should enjoy the taste of another omega’s slick, but Satoru had never been what an omega should be, so you shoved the thought aside.

Just as you pushed the thought from your mind, the bunny between your legs wrapped his lips around your clit and sucked. It felt as if all the air had been sucked from your lungs, and your thighs clenched around his head, though that only made him moan louder into you.

Somehow, you managed to keep your eyes open and locked on Suguru, even if your vision was a little fuzzy around the edges. When he spoke to you again, though, it took a bit more focus to really hear him.

“You can touch him, you know.”

“Wh— oh my god — what do you mean?”

A small chuckle escaped him, and he tilted his head slightly as he gazed at you. “You can touch Satoru, if you want to. You won’t get in trouble, or anything like that. In fact,” he glanced down at the other bunny’s fluffy white head, “I can confidently say he wants you to touch him. Isn’t that right, pretty boy?”

“Please,” Satoru whimpered, barely pulling away from your cunt long enough to speak, and he was quick to dive back in, this time working his tongue into you.

You weren’t sure what the noise you made was, but you didn’t really care; all you could focus on was the feeling of his hot, wet tongue working you open. Without even thinking about it, your hands flew from the bedsheets to his hair, tangling the strands between your fingers and pulling, much harder than you’d intended to. There was no room for you to even attempt an apology, though, because the sensation had him moaning louder than before, and he rutted his hips down into the mattress.

“Told you,” Suguru chuckled, but neither of you really heard him, too lost in the way Satoru had his mouth on you, licking up your slick like he’d die without it.

When the other omega pulled his mouth away from you, you whimpered, dropping your gaze from Suguru’s to Satoru’s. Before you could form any sort of complaint, though, you watched as he released his hold on one of your thighs and pushed one of his long fingers into you.

Your brain short circuited at the sight, and you let out a strangled moan, unable to tear your eyes away from his hand. He worked you open carefully, first with one finger, then with two, and before you knew it he was curling three fingers into your sweet spot, the pleasure of it so intense you were nearly cross eyed, especially with the way he was still sucking on your clit. 

“I told you to get them ready for me, didn’t I, pretty boy?”

“Yes,” Satoru answered instantly, the word muffled against your skin; the vibrations of it had you moaning quietly.

“And do you think your fingers are going to be enough for that?” His voice was a little darker than before. Not scary or overtly predatory, just… more intense, more focused; hungrier.

“N-no, alpha,” Satoru panted, thrusting his fingers faster, panting heavily into your pussy. “Want to taste them first, please? Wanna make them cum all over my face…”

There was a pause, somewhat tense as both you and your fellow bunny waited for the fox’s answer.

“Well, when you ask so nicely,” he practically purred. “Go ahead, Satoru. Make a mess out of them.”

That was all the permission Satoru needed. He latched onto your clit once again, alternating between sucking and tracing patterns against it with his tongue, his fingers abusing your sweet spot until you were seeing stars.

You barely recognized the scream that tore its way out of you as your own voice, too busy thrashing in his hold, thighs clamping down around his head once again. You gushed slick everywhere – all over his fingers, all over his mouth, all over the sheets – until everything was wet and almost sticky with it. 

Though you had no memory of closing your eyes, it wasn’t long before you heard Suguru’s voice, now much closer than before, gently calling your name, asking you to open your eyes for him. Eventually you managed to comply, slowly fluttering your eyes open to look up at the fox.

“There you are,” Suguru praised quietly. “Pretty boy really did a number on you, huh?” He brushed your hair out of your eyes as he spoke, and you weren’t really sure if he expected you to answer him or not. You stayed silent, more focused on catching your breath and coming down from the most mind blowing orgasm of your life, and your silence didn’t seem to bother him at all.

“What about you, pretty boy. How’re you feeling?” You managed to follow the alpha’s gaze – albeit a bit sluggishly – as he turned his attention from you to the other omega, and what you saw had your face burning all over again.

The lower half of Satoru’s face was absolutely drenched in your slick, and you could see how it was beginning to run down his chin and jaw to his neck. His hand wasn’t any better off, either: there was slick coating him well past his wrist. You were mildly horrified that you’d done that to him, but it was clear by the look on his face that he was thrilled that you’d made such a mess of him. “Feelin’ really good,” he answered, a dopey grin on his face as he sat up. The bunny leaned over you a bit then, getting as close to the fox as he could without actually moving from his spot kneeling between your legs. “Wanna taste?”

Suguru smirked slightly at Satoru’s question. “Of course I do,” he replied. Then, he reached out, lightly threading his fingers through the hair on the back of Satoru’s head, pulling him into a messy, heated kiss; a kiss that he absolutely dominated, without any sort of protest from the other man.

As you watched them, still somewhat dazed, you realized that, at some point between getting up from his seat across the room and joining the two of you on the bed, Suguru had stripped himself of his clothes, leaving him just as bare as the two bunnies waiting for him. There was a part of you insisting on looking down, on getting a good look at his cock while you could, but you were too caught up watching the two men kiss.

Some time later – minutes or hours, you weren’t sure – they broke apart, both of them panting against each other. “Delicious,” Suguru murmured after a moment, licking the last vestiges of your slick from around his mouth. “I’ll have to get a taste first hand next time, but for now, pretty boy, you need to finish preparing them for me.”

Satoru nodded obediently, though a soft squeak escaped him as the other man reached around and tugged lightly on his tail, just to tease him a bit. The bunny huffed indignantly, but the effect of his reaction was lost when you saw that his pupils were still blown wide and his eyes were still slightly glassy as he focused on you.

“You ready for more?” he asked, tilting his head slightly as he looked down at you. “Or do you need more time to catch your breath?” As he spoke, he reached down and began to stroke himself with the hand still coated with your slick, his breath stuttering a bit at the touch.

Thankfully you had managed to catch your breath by this point, and you nodded dumbly for a moment. “Yeah, I’m ready,” you confirmed, sounding more steady than you had expected, given your brain was still catching up to your body. 

“Thank god,” Satoru sighed, then shuffled into a better position, hovering over you and propping himself up on the hand not currently occupied. “I’ll be careful,” he promised, his voice gentle and sweet. 

You nodded again, trusting him to keep his word, and spread your legs a bit wider to better accommodate him. A gasp flew from your lips as he lined up with your entrance and slowly began to push forward. You’d known he wasn’t small, but feeling the outline of his cock against your back was not the same thing as feeling it pushing its way into your body. Your hands shot up to his shoulders, nails digging into the pale skin there as he slowly filled you, inch by impossible inch. 

When you felt his hips finally meet yours, you both let out a shaky moan, and he dropped his forehead to yours for a moment, now propping himself up on his elbows so he wasn’t fully crushing you into the bed.

“Can I have a kiss?” he asked quietly after a few moments, and the question caught you a bit off guard, especially since he seemed a little nervous to ask.

Pushing on his chest a bit so you could get a proper look at him, you scanned his face to figure out what, exactly, his goal was, but all you found in his expression was earnestness and hope, and the tiniest hint of worry. “...Yeah,” you agreed after a moment. “Yeah, you can have a kiss.”

The little grin that tugged at his lips was more adorable than it had any right to be while he was buried balls deep in you, but you found yourself smiling back anyways, allowing your eyes to slip shut for a moment as your lips made contact.

Though the kiss started as a soft, chaste press of lips, it quickly devolved into deep, sloppy kisses, barely enough time to breathe in between each kiss. Your ability to breathe was well and truly stolen for a moment as Satoru began to move, gently rocking his hips up into you at first, then eventually beginning to properly thrush, pulling out a bit before pushing back into you again.

Each movement had you panting and moaning beneath him, one hand still gripping his shoulder as the other trailed up his neck to tangle in his hair. “Ho— o-oohhh — h-how is this preparing me for Suguru?” you asked, doing your best to focus on the omega above you, despite how good he was making you feel.

“He’s bigger than I am,” Satoru answered, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. He noticed the way you tensed slightly and shuddered at his words, and he leaned down and pressed a gentle kiss to your forehead. “It’s okay,” he soothed, and you could hear a quiet purr rumbling in his chest as he spoke. “That’s what this is for, ‘kay? I keep making you feel good, make sure you’re nice and ready for our alpha when it’s his turn.”

Apparently still able to scent your apprehension, the bunny pressed a few more soft kisses down the side of your face, still purring quietly all the while. “It’s ok if you don’t think you can take him,” he murmured. “If you need to tap out after me, that won’t hurt his feelings. He’s gonna fuck me either way. After you and I are done you can participate as much or as little as you’d like, little bunny. Whatever you say, goes.”

Something about the tenderness underlying his words, and the sweet way he called you “little bunny” had you practically melting beneath him. “Okay,” you murmured, turning your head to catch his lip in another soft kiss, letting the touch linger longer than was strictly necessary, simply enjoying the intimacy while you could.

“Satoru?”

“Yes, bunny?”

“I appreciate how gentle you’re being with me right now, but my guess is Suguru won’t be as gentle.”

A small laugh escaped him, and he shook his head slightly. “You’re right,” he confirmed.

“Then I really think it’ll be better for all of us if you stop moving like you think you’ll break me and just fuck me.” Even as you spoke the words aloud, you felt flustered, but Satoru just smirked.

“Your wish is my command.”

He shifted his position slightly, guiding your legs up to wrap around his waist. Once he was confident you were settled, he started moving again. The sharp shift in the way he was fucking you was enough to make you yelp, though the sound dissolved into an unabashed moan, your grip on him tightening everywhere, desperate not to get jostled away from him.

It took an embarrassingly short amount of time for you to feel another orgasm building, but you were powerless to do anything but hold on for the ride and moan the omega’s name as he brought you to new levels of ecstasy.

Satoru’s pace faltered a few moments later, his hips stuttering to a stop as he gasped. You whined softly, but shifted until you could look over his shoulder to see what had happened.

Suguru was kneeling on the bed behind Satoru, a hint of a smirk on his face as he gazed down at you. “Please,” he said evenly. “Don’t stop on my behalf. It’s absolutely delicious to watch.”

When Satoru shivered and moaned loudly in your ear, you looked down from the alpha’s face, not entirely unsurprised to see he was currently fucking Satoru’s pussy with his fingers.

“Awe,” Suguru taunted. “Is this too much for you, pretty boy? Do you need me to stop?”

“No!” Satoru answered immediately. “N-no, feels good… wan’ more, please, alpha?”

The fox seemed to consider for a moment, his ears and tail twitching in sync, before he came to a decision. He withdrew his fingers and landed a solid smack to the omega’s ass. “Make our little one cum first.”

“Yes, alpha.” 

Clearly not wanting to disappoint Suguru, your fellow bunny resumed his relentless pace from before, hips stuttering a bit as Satoru began to fuck him with his fingers again, but he didn’t stop this time, and was easily able to regain his rhythm. 

Ever a quick study, it wasn’t long until Satoru found your sweet spot, and once he found it, he adjusted his hips to make sure he nailed it with every thrust. He nibbled and sucked at your neck as you whimpered and writhed beneath him, thighs beginning to tremble where they were locked around his waist.

“You gettin’ close, little bunny?” he asked breathlessly, barely biting back a moan of his own as he waited for your answer.

“Uh-huh,” you whined, tilting your head to grant him further access to your neck. “Need more, ‘Toru, please…”

“I got you,” he promised. One of his hands snaked between your bodies, his palm resting on your lower belly as he reached down with his thumb, rubbing slow circles on your clit, the pace of his thumb a stark contrast to the pace of his hips.

“Cum for us, little one,” Suguru encouraged from above.

That was all it took. You wailed as you tipped over the edge into pure bliss again, your vision whiting out for a few moments as you shook almost violently in the throes of pleasure. Satoru was still rock hard inside you when you came back to yourself, though his thumb was – thankfully – no longer on your clit. His movements were more subtle now, more of a rocking motion as he moved back and forth into the wet heat of your cunt and the welcome intrusion of Suguru’s fingers.

“Please,” he whimpered, looking over his shoulder at the alpha. “Please, wanna cum, need to cum, please…”

“Shh,” the fox soothed. “No need to beg this time, pretty boy. You’ve done very well.”

The bunny whined at the praise, blush instantly coloring his cheeks as he rocked back onto the fingers in his cunt.

“Want you to cum inside them, yeah? Get them nice and wet for me…”

Satoru moaned the loudest he had all night at the command, and he nodded, moving his hips with purpose again now, though his movements were a bit uncoordinated. That didn’t matter, though, because soon enough he was pressing his full length into you one last time before spilling into you, simultaneously gushing slick over Suguru’s hand.

The sudden warmth filling you made a shiver run down your spine, and you moaned quietly at the feeling; it was much more pleasant than you would’ve expected. You were a bit surprised Satoru didn’t fully collapse on top of you then, but when you felt a larger, more calloused set of hands gently unwrapping your legs from around the other bunny’s waist, you realized it most likely because Suguru was planning to move him out of the way.

Your theory was proven right when, rather than falling down on top of you, Satoru flopped onto his back beside you on the bed, breathing heavily and staring almost unseeing at the ceiling. A moment later, a curtain of dark hair encroached on your vision, and you turned to look up at Suguru.

His narrow eyes crinkled around the edges as he smiled down at you. “Feeling alright, little one?” he asked gently, ghosting his fingers along the hickies Satoru had left down one side of your neck.

You hummed softly, giving him a slight nod, lashes fluttering and goosebumps raising your skin at the featherlight touch of his fingers on your throat.

“Good, I’m glad. How about a little breather, hm? Pretty boy over here will get all pouty if I don’t pay attention to him, too.” Though his words teasing in nature, almost taunting, the affection in the alpha’s voice was unmistakable.

His comment made you giggle softly, and you nodded. “Breather sounds nice,” you agreed. “I just get to lay here and relax?”

“Yeah, just relax,” he confirmed. “Roll over for me, I’ll help you get comfortable.”

You did as you were asked, flipping over so you now laid on your stomach, rather than your back. You jumped slightly as you felt him lift your hips with one hand, but quickly mellowed out when you realized he was just sliding a pillow under you.

“Comfy?”

“Very,” you hummed, unable to stop the purr that began to vibrate in your throat. “Go get him off before he starts whining.” You gestured in Satoru’s direction, eyes half closed as you allowed yourself to really relax.

That made Suguru laugh softly, and he pressed a gentle kiss to your cheek before moving over to the other bunny, who seemed to be more coherent now, given that he looked displeased, and his bottom lip was jutted out.

“I don’t get whiny, and I don’t pout,” Satoru insisted.

“You’re pouting right now, pretty boy,” Suguru teased, smiling down at him.

Satoru said nothing, just huffed and looked away from the alpha above him. “You’re so mean to me.”

“Ah, but you like when I’m mean to you.”

“In bed.”

“Yes, pretty boy, I know. Only in bed.” Suguru began to press soft kisses down Satoru’s body then, pausing at his chest to take one of the omega’s pretty pink nipples between his teeth and tug lightly. 

Satoru squeaked at the feeling, body jerking and gracelessly trying to swat the alpha in retaliation. “No fair! You promised you wouldn’t use teeth on them anymore.”

“Sorry,” Suguru apologized, not looking particularly sorry at all. “Won’t happen again.”

As they bantered back and forth, their affection for each other rolling off of them in waves, you watched silently from the sidelines, a soft, if slightly sad, smile on your face. Though you’d been in relationships before, you’d never had anything like what the two of them had, either romantically or platonically. Not until you’d met them, anyways.

They had always been so sweet to you, welcoming you into their world so quickly. You knew they never needed to pretend to be anything they weren’t when they were together, and the more time you spent with them, the less you felt like you had to pretend around them, too. It was nice to have people you trusted so much, and who trusted you the same; to love someone and have them love you in return.

Because really, you did love them, and you’d told them that before, more than once. It was a sentiment you knew they returned – they’d said it to you more than enough times for you to believe them – but the longer you thought about it, the more you realized that the line between romance and friendship with them had long since blurred, and that began to weigh on you.

Do I want what they have, or do I want… them?

Almost as soon as the thought crossed your mind, you shoved it aside; now was certainly not the time to be unpacking all of that.

You were quickly pulled back into the moment and out of your thoughts when you heard Suguru say your name. Only, he wasn’t talking to you, but about you, as he ground his hips into Satoru’s, buried to the hilt in the omega’s pussy. It took you a moment to realize what he was talking about, but eventually you realized he was talking about… biting you.

“They’d look so pretty with my mark on their neck, don’t you think, pretty boy? Let everyone know who they really belong to, who loves them more than anyone else.”

Satoru whined, though the sound wasn’t entirely pleasurable. “You said you’d bite me first,” he replied, voice quiet and smaller than you were used to hearing. “You promised, promised I’d be first, even when we fell for them. You promised.”

The pain that laced the edge of Satoru’s words nearly broke your heart, and before Suguru had a chance to say anything, you decided to cut in.

“Bite him first,” you said quietly, meeting the fox’s dark, steady gaze. “Keep your promise, bite him first. I’m not going anywhere.”

His eyes flashed at your words, and an almost hopeful look crossed his face, before he looked back down at Satoru. “You heard them, pretty boy. They’re not going anywhere.”

The bunny smiled at the news, letting out a little chirp – the single most adorable sound you’d ever heard him make – at the news, though soon enough he was gasping and moaning again as the fox fucked him a little harder, kissing and sucking down his throat and pumping his cock in time with his thrusts.

“F-Fuck, alpha, gonna cum,” he whined, bucking his hips up into Suguru’s fist.

“Cum for me, pretty boy,” Suguru cooed. “Cum for me and I’ll bite you.”

The words had barely left the alpha’s mouth before Satoru was crying out, writhing and bucking his hips as he spilled over Suguru’s hand, coating his fingers in white.

At that same moment, Suguru fulfilled his promise, biting down hard on the curve of the bunny’s throat, sinking his teeth into the scent gland there and thoroughly claiming Satoru as his. Satoru tensed as he was bitten, but it was only for a split second before he went completely boneless beneath the alpha, whining and babbling his name until the alpha released his hold on his neck.

“Look at you, pretty boy,” Suguru murmured affectionately. “Even prettier now that you’re mine…”

Satoru’s answering hum quickly morphed into a whine of protest as Suguru pulled out, still rock hard and covered in the other man’s slick; he hadn’t knotted Satoru, which struck you as odd.

“It’s ok, baby,” Suguru rushed to soothe him, brushing the hair from his forehead and pressing a soft kiss to the sweaty skin there. “I’ll knot you later, alright? Gotta make sure little one’s all taken care of first.”

The words seemed to do the trick, and Satoru quieted down, nodding slightly as he rolled over to lay on his side, now facing you. “He’s gonna make you feel really good,” he murmured, reaching out towards you and taking your hand. “His knot feels incredible.”

You giggled softly at his words, though you were sure he was being entirely sincere as he spoke. You squeezed his hand gently, only pulling away when Suguru removed the pillow from beneath your hips and rolled you over onto your back once again.

“Hi,” he greeted with a small chuckle. “You ready to take me?”

You opened your mouth to answer, but the words died in your throat as you finally got a good look at him, your eyes going comically wide. 

His cock was huge. Maybe not quite as long as Satoru’s was, but it was much thicker, which reignited your worries from earlier in the evening.

“Hey, look at me,” Suguru called, gently tilting your chin up until you met his eyes again. “We can stop right here if you want. If you’re not ready to take me, that’s okay. And if you don’t want to have sex but you still want me to claim you, we can do that too.”

Knowing you still had the option to back out, even now, and knowing neither of the boys would be upset with you if you did was enough to bolster your confidence. “I want to keep going,” you told him. “Want you to knot me, claim me as yours.”

“I can definitely do that,” he said, purring a bit as he leaned down and kissed you. Much like your kisses with Satoru earlier, the touch went from sweet and chaste to desperate and devouring in just a few short moments. 

As the alpha broke the kiss and shifted to sit back on his knees, you whined and attempted to follow him, but he kept a gentle hand on your stomach to keep you down where you were. “Wanna see what a mess Satoru made of you,” he said, a wicked gleam in his eye.

You swallowed thickly and nodded, not protesting as he placed his hands on your knees and pushed your legs apart, staring down at your messy, dripping pussy. When he let out a low whistle at the sight, you whined in embarrassment and covered your face with your hands; you couldn’t believe he wanted to see all that, couldn’t believe you were letting him, couldn’t believe he was enjoying it.

“Pretty boy sure did a good job getting you ready for me, I’ll give him that,” Suguru said, wanting to have just a bit more fun teasing the two of you, his two bashful omegas, before he gave you what both you and he wanted so badly. “That’s good, though. It’ll make it easier for you to take me.” He rubbed his hands up and down your thighs for a moment, waiting until you peeked through your fingers at him. 

“It will?”

“Yes,” he confirmed. “The glide will be nice and easy, no dry friction or anything to worry about causing any pain. It’ll still probably be a bit of a stretch,” he added. “But it’ll be much easier on you this way.”

The tension bled from your shoulders at his words, and you nodded again, slowly pulling your hands away from your face. “What are you waiting for, then?” you asked him, biting your lip lightly after you spoke; you normally weren’t one to tea or speak so playfully in bed, but these two brought out a different side of you than any of your previous partners, and for that, you were glad.

“Well when you put it like that,” Suguru replied with a grin, spreading your legs a bit wider so he could settle between them more comfortably as he leaned down over you once again. He pecked a quick kiss to your lips as he lined himself up with your entrance. “I’m not waiting for anything anymore.”

He pushed in slowly, just as Satoru had, but you could feel your walls stretch to accommodate his girth. You clenched around him involuntarily, and he hissed at the feeling. 

“Deep breaths, little one,” he murmured, helping you breathe in time with him, which in turn helped you relax and release the tension in your body. Before you knew it, he was fully seated inside you, and you cradled his face in your hands as you both took a moment to breathe.

“Suguru?” “Yes, little one?”

“If you don’t knot me soon I think I might combust.”

A small laugh burst out of him then, and he easily captured your lips in a kiss. “I don’t think you’ll have to wait long,” he assured you. “I’m as desperate for this as you are.”

And desperate you were. You wrapped your legs around his waist, pulling him closer as you pulled him into another kiss, your fingers slipping through his silky black hair as you attempted to find something to hold onto, something to ground you as he fucked you, every movement deep and intentional, as if he had a mission to accomplish, because he did. Both of you were eager for him to knot you, to bite you and claim you as his just like he had done with Satoru a bit before.

You whined against the fox’s skin as you buried your face in his neck; he was making you feel amazing, but it wasn’t enough.

The feeling of another set of lips trailing down your arm to your shoulder had you gasping in surprise, and when you turned to see what was happening, you were pleased to see that it was your fellow bunny coming to help. He twitched an ear affectionately in your direction, and you did your best to return the gesture, a sweet – if somewhat fucked out – smile on your face as you looked at him.

Taking the gesture as an invitation, he leaned in and kissed you slow and sweet, his light purrs vibrating into the kiss and making you scrunch your nose as the feeling, but it wasn’t unpleasant. You allowed yourself to get lost in the kiss and the feeling of Suguru’s thick cock filling you better than anything or anyone else ever had, so when you felt two of Satoru’s dexterous fingers land on your clit and start tracing little infinity symbols, you gasped, beginning to writhe under the pleasurable stimulation. 

“I’m gonna cum,” you warned, the words escaping you on a high pitched, whining moan, and you clenched around the cock inside you.

Suguru moaned in return, licking up the side of your neck left unblemished by Satoru before he spoke. “That’s okay,” he mumbled into your skin, placing hot, wet, openmouthed kisses haphazardly across your skin. “Let us make you feel good, don’t worry about anything else.”

You could only nod in response to his words, and seconds later you were falling apart, moaning high and breathless as you clenched around him, shuddering and shaking with pleasure. “Bite,” you begged quietly. “Please, alpha, claim me…”

A low, possessive growl rumbled in Suguru’s chest at the sound of you referring to him as “alpha”, and almost instantly he was sinking his fangs into your neck, in the exact same spot he had bitten the other bunny.

The breath was stolen from your lungs as you felt him puncture your scent gland, and while your prey instincts stiffened every muscle in your body for a split second, preparing you to flee for your life, the tension disappeared just as quickly, leaving you practically a puddle underneath your fox.

Just when you thought everything was done, that it couldn’t get any better, you felt Suguru slam into you one last time, flooding your insides with warmth; you also felt the way his knot swelled, stretching you out impossibly more and locking you together for a while.

You wailed at the feeling, nails scraping at his scalp until he released your throat from between his teeth. It was as if all the adrenaline and pain bled out of you from the new bite mark in your neck, and you certainly weren’t complaining.

A soft grunt slipped from your lips as Suguru collapsed on top of you, though he did what he could to keep his full weight off of you. When he deemed that task too difficult, though, he wrapped his arms around you, carefully rolling both of you onto your sides. Satoru was quick to snuggle up behind you, reaching across your body until he could rest a hand on your shared alpha’s hip; Suguru quickly did the same, and once they were touching each other again, they relaxed. You were sure their purring was involuntary, but it was genuine.

You’d certainly slept worse places than between two purring men who loved you.

yeah i.... don't really have anything else to say. this was not proofread so i apologize for any glaring errors. also i don't know how dicks work.

tagging: @lorelune @yutaleks @dr-runs-with-scissors @kentohours @fushigurro (not tagging my usual taglist bc uhh. this is not what y'all signed up for lmao)

dividers by saradika-graphics

#cw omegaverse #tw omegaverse #cw a/b/o #tw a/b/o #if i should tag any other cw/tw lmk & i will! #fallon's fics #gojo x reader #gojo satoru x reader #geto x reader #geto suguru x reader #geto x gojo x reader #satosugu x reader #jjk x reader #jjk smut #hmmmmm yeah ik the tags are a mess so that's all i'm gonna do lmao

[ornii]

“I Do not love you, …I Tolerate You.”

Daenerys Targaryen X Male Lannister Reader

(Y/n) Lannister, King of House Lannister, the First of His Name, King of the Andals and the First Men, Lord of the Seven Kingdoms, and Protector of the Realm, and the Father of Golden Lions, Mourning the Death of his Love, an unknown force calls claim to the Seven Kingdoms, the Mother of Dragons.

Warning: Hey, you like thighjobs? No? Well too bad we got them!

Kings Landing, the final destination for kings and queens to either rule or die trying. For you it was the first, but it came with much loss.

Being born a Lannister you had some obligations to uphold, son of an Imp, you had much to live up to and deal with. But more importantly, you had fallen for one woman specifically.. Margery. Unlike Tommen and Joffrey, you weren’t as Naive and Foolish as them, Tyrion made sure of that. Teaching you the way the game of thrones is played was essential to survive in this world. She respected your opinions, ideals, wishes. Her Marriage to Joffrey was one of necessity, yours was out of love. A love that was quickly shattered and burned by one Cersei Lannister.

Joffrey was Murdered, Your father Tyrion put on trial, and in return he escapes, Kills your grandfather Tywin, and escapes. Leaving Tommen to pick up the pieces, Tyrion was never seen in Kings Landing again. Still keeping your relationship a secret you continued your affairs, but it only had gotten worse, the Sparrows using their holy influence to capture Margery, Tommen, nothing but a mere child in the mind did nothing, and his Mother Cersei was also taken, her plan backfiring. You only wished that was the end of the nightmare.

Cersei executes a plan that lead to the explosion of the Sept, killing Margery, her brother, The High Sparrow and so many more. Your cousins, Grandfather, Father, and now your Love, all gone. All of that set in motion your path to the crown, forming the Golden Roar rebellion you overthrew Cersei and took the Iron Throne as your own, it didn’t take much of course, using your connection to the people you exposed her true nature, and her actions. The people rebelled, you rebelled, it was perfect. With all obstacles moved, you now have the power to change everything, to change the world, but one obstacle stood left; The Last Targaryen.

Sitting upon your iron throne, and Gregor at your side, you listened to the concerns of not only nobles but of the people. They were small at best, tedious. It wasn’t until your kings guard, your Uncle Jamie knelt down to slightly whisper.

“There is something I must speak to you about when time is available.”

“Is it important?” You asked calmly, your eyes darting to him. Jamie nodded, it was rare your uncle often spoke during your court. You ended the proceeding for now and walked to the high chambers with your uncle.

“It’s about—“ Jamie began but you had an idea of what he was going to ask.

“As I have said before uncle, I shall not Kill Aunt Cersei, as much as she deserves it.. I made that promise to you, I intend to keep it. She will be locked away. And when I have complete control, you can live out your days with her in Casterly Rock.” You said, while your blood boiled at the idea of Cersei living, for your uncle who treated you as equal, you honored your promise.

“No, House Tarly might consider to support the Targaryen.” He began, you knew about Her, but you didn’t care at the time. You picked up your pace, trying to focus and Jamie kept up.

“Really now?” You asked intrigued.

“They’re the only house that has not claimed loyalty, and if we lose their house—“

“We might have a problem.” You finish the statement for him. “We had the Tyrell’s but Cersei made sure of that.. although.” You slowly had an idea coming together, Jamie halted in his footsteps as a smirk crept on your face.

“We won’t need the Tyrells… if the False Queen truly wishes to take the throne. Then I should at least hear the woman out..” You said, admittedly you wished to see this last living Targaryen. Stepping into your bedchamber you overlooked Kings Landing, the debt slowly being pushed down, people attempting to rebuild after the sept, all your doing. And if this Targaryen Pureblooded Freak wished to take this from you, then she must kill you in order to take it. Your mind wandered until you stepped out to the balcony, enjoying the warm air, smells of earth and rock, but something else caught your attention.. something was moving across the horizon of the ocean.

Standing on the massive port gate of Kings Landing, You, Ser Jamie, Maester Quburn stood at the port, watching ships slowly enter, but they were not yours. They belonged to the Greyjoys. Standing with soldiers surrounding and arrows ready to massacre the platoons, you wait. They dock and descend out, and your eyes laid upon Euron Greyjoy, the sadistic cold bastard of what’s left of the Greyjoys, that shit eating grin was unsettling, as if he had some master plan for you. He gave a fake bow and kept his sly eye on you.

“My King.” He said, having your hands behind your back you calmly raised your hand, and placed your fingers down, allowing the archers to put their bows down.

“You must be, Euron.” You said, what could a Greyjoy Possibly want here?”

“It’s a simple request, although I expected the queen to be greeting me.” He replies, look around slowly, as if to expect Cersei.

“Unfortunately she’s been.. replaced. Allow me to welcome you and your men to kings Landing, Respect our Laws and you shall be respected in kind.” You offer him to walk with you, and he does.

“Your business here must be important if you wished to speak with me.” You look around, noting that there are still arrows trained on Euron, for your safety after all.

“Yes, what I ask requires some.. finesse. Finesse only the true king of Westeros would have.” Euron plays it up, but you knew better and cut though his words.

“What would you wish?” You reply, entering the throne room you said. “How would.. command over the waters of All Westeros sound?” He said, you halted, and slowly went up the stairs, ascending to a higher position than him. You sit down upon the throne, gently placing your hands together.

“I have the power to give this, but why would I give it to you, a Greyjoy in fact.. I gain, nothing.” You explain, and Euron snaps his fingers laughing.

“You see that is where you are wrong, my king. My loyalty, I will swear to you, and the entire Greyjoy fleet will be yours to command at your demand, all I ask is reign over the waters.”

“That is an imposing proposal.. but how do I know you will keep your word?” You reply, and Euron grins. “I have a.. gift.”

Minutes pass as you sit in your Throne, Jamie by your side waiting. Hoping this “Gift” will be of some worth. And it was, the doors open to Euron and his men, having three women captured and tied like cattle to follow. You looked at them, while two were from Dorne, the other wasn’t. Jamie gripped his saber hilt with his good hand. You noticed the shift in his emotion, and tilted your head.

“I believe these women are from Dorne.. why do you have them?” You asked, you vaguely recognize one as Oberon’s lover.

“This is Ellaria and Tyene Sand.. your Cousins Killers.” Euron smiles, presenting a good gift, your eyes slowly filled with malice and hate, a feeling you’ve only ever truly felt a few times in life. The feeling came back with a vengeance and you calmly but somehow with boiling fury stood up and walked down the stairs, you calmly approached Ellaria her eyes were wary off course, you were a Lannister unknown, meaning you were unpredictable.

“Ellaria sand… for your daughter’s Sake, tell the truth.. did you kill my cousin Marcella?” You whispered so coldly and raspy into her ear, like a growling lion before he pounces and tears apart zebras flesh. You watched her quiver, heavy breathing, and in the last moments of reality she nodded, confirming the truth. You took a step back and bit your lip to keep from showing tears. “The Cell.. all of them.” You gave the shallow order and the guards took them away. You could care less about the last one and allowed her to be taken away as well. Sitting back on your throne you looked to Euron, and gave the nod.

“The seas.. are yours.”

It had been a Week since Eurons reign, and all was calm, until you had an unexpected visitor, standing at the gates of Kings Landing with your men and council, you watched as an army of Unsullied and Dothraki approach, you couldn’t make out anyone you knew and prepared to rain Wildfire on them, but someone’s presence was well known, you heard the intense roar and the echo of massive wings in the sky, you saw the dragon, the most powerful beings in Westeros, they land on the ground. And its blood red eyes looked at you, admittedly a wave of fear hit you.

“Quburn.. are the Dragon Slayers reader?” You asked.

“Ready to launch, my King.” He replies, you sigh with relief and then watched a tiny figure step from the army.

“..Father?” You said, almost speechless. Tyrion approached, looking older, more stern. You signaled to let him in.

Sitting across from each other inside a Tent. You didn’t have much to say to him, even after all these years.

“You.. did it.” Tyrion said, seeing his son as king was, an unreal feeling. “You achieved greatness, as I always expected. Besides you’re half of me, so you should have.”

“Amusing father.. but, are you truly with this woman?”

“She.. has a vision for Westeros I simply cannot allow to go to the wayside, besides this place needs someone willing to show mercy instead of the blade.” Tyrion responds, you could somewhat understand his predicament.

“I suppose, but I won’t allow my throne to be taken by some Targaryen child. I will lead Westeros to peace, and she can go back to ruling whatever sand hill she wishes, as long as it isn’t on my soil.”

“That.. may not be your soil for much longer.” Tyrion quips, your eyes glare at him as he sips his wine.

“Not by us, the Winter.. the cold.. the undead. They’re real, and it seems their plan is to go from the wall and destroy along. Westeros, it would not be long before they raid Kings Landing..”

You consider your father’s words carefully, if this is true. Then the Queen of Dragons isn’t your main focus. “Is there a way to stop them?” You ask.

“Dragons glass and fire, that seems to be our only two, unfortunately the Queen lost one to the White Walkers. If we’re to survive and surpass this darkness, you and the Queen must come to an understanding and work together.”

“I.. see..” You rubbed your chin, truly considering all of this. “And where is the Queen?”

“Winterfell.”

“I can spare twenty thousand Men, leave a few here to run while I go.” You said, standing up you look out to the army still awaiting.

“May your return back to your Queen be swift father.. but know that when this is done, you must choose a side.” You left your father with those parting words, and Made way for The North.

Entering Winterfell felt like a death sentence, you felt eyes all over you, knowing at any moment you could be swarmed and killed, thankfully your army surrounded the rest of Winterfell, so a siege would immediately commence if you were killed. Standing in the Great Hall, you were gazed upon by Many house, and sitting at the center of the table was none other that the Queen, Denreyes Targaryen. You have a bow of courtesy.

“Your Grace, my father informed me of the.. issue we’re facing, this night king, these.. white walkers. They’re a plague slowly burrowing into the heart of Westeros, and it would take us all to stop them, so I fully intend to lend aid.” You said, it was silent besides a few Murmurs, some surprised you came here, others surprised you’re actually helping, Lannisters are usually selfish.

“Your help will be paramount to stopping this invasion. And I suppose the terms of your surrender was spoke about as well?”

“Apologies but I have no intent to surrender..” you reply, and smile. “A beautiful and intelligent woman such as yourself should know I am not here to surrender but to lend aid. We can discuss the throne when we know there will be a throne left.”

It was silence in the room now, and before Dany could say something she bit her tongue to keep it. “Understandable.. we shall discuss this when ample time is available. Please, enjoy Winterfell for the time being.” Her words sounded kind, but obviously it had a hint of malice behind it, knowing better you didn’t call her out, and simply went to your bedchambers. Walking along the frozen planks of Winterfell you felt unease, as if someone was watching you. You hit a corner and kept up the pace, knowing someone was there. As you turned the corner you prepared to face your chaser, you stepped out to attack but, no one was there. Something was wrong, but unfortunately it was too late.

You felt the cold steel against your neck and the abrupt grip of a hand around your wrist. Death was mere moments away, but it didn’t come, a voice came from behind you.

“Still too slow for your own good.” It said, it may have been years since you’ve seen her, but you recognized that voice from anywhere.

Arya.

“Always too slow for you.” You replied in jest and the cold steel was removed, you sigh and turn around to see her, she’s taller now and, you couldn’t help but notice that she’s a full fledged woman now. You met Arya when her Sister and Father were taken to Kings Landing, she had this tomboyish attitude that made you adore her, always being so friendly and practicing her fighting skills even as a girl, and now you both had grown up.

“You look..” you started, your eyes going up and down and back into her eyes.

“Scary?” She responds

“Amazing.” You said, she had a sly grin and gave you a playful poke with her finger. “And you look like a real king now.”

“I try.” You respond, “Arya.. about Kings Landing—“ you start but she stops you.

“You saved me when you made me leave when my father was killed, if not I’d end up like Sansa, your family isn’t you.” She said to you, so earnest and kind. That weight was taken off your shoulder. You nodded and Arya walks past you.

“I’ll see you soon. I’m sure you, have a lot deal with.” With those words Arya parted. You watched her leave, and the curves she developed would make a man’s steel resolve melt. You shook your head and pressed forward, entering the room you took a step in, and closed the door behind you, unfortunately you weren’t the only one in the room, Daenerys. She sat in your chair, as if she was awaiting your arrival.

“That did not take you long.” You said, ready to debate.

“Your presence has made it an issue with the northerners, not only do they question my rule as Queen of the North because of Jon, but so does yours.” She clenched her jaw slightly and you chuckled. You calmly removed your cape. You noticed the bottle of wine on the counter and didn’t hesitate to take it.

“Stop clenching your jaw. It’s bad for your teeth darling, you’re too pretty to lose your teeth now.” You calmly placed your cape on the table and approached to sit across from her.

“Flattery will get you nowhere.”

“Your Grace flattered has gotten me into a lot of things, thankfully one is the throne.” You gently combed back your hair, looking into her eyes, She was ferocious like a dragons, but also a merciful side. They were.. beautiful.

“Well I hope your flattery will work against the Night King and his horde of undead.” She obviously has a chip on her shoulder to say the least, a chip you intend to knock off.

“I doubt, he doesn’t seem the type to be swept off his cold decrepit feet.” You tapped the table, just to annoy her. “I say a good dagger to the heart does the same thing, wouldn’t you agree?”

“I suppose it does. I am.. surprise you came.” She admits, you raised an eyebrow.

“You think of me as a liar?” You asked, She didn’t want to say yes but obviously you had your answer, your smirk fades and you calmly sit up, you popped the cork off the bottle and took a swig of it.

“I am nothing, if not a man of my word, and I came here to fight them myself as well. I said I would, so I would. And so you would know I truly mean it when I said.. I would Marry you and Make you Queen Denyeres Targaryen, you wouldn’t have to take my last name.” You meant every word, you offered the bottle of wine to Deny, she stared at it for a moment and took it for a drink of it. A warm smile was already on your face, hours of talking and drinking left you two actually getting along.

“You have no idea, it’s fucking cold, I hate it here, everyone cannot understand why I deserve the throne because I dont have a cock between my legs.” Deny rants on, and you slip up and said, “You could use mine.” You blurted out, jokingly but, she didn’t see it as a joke. She tilts her head a way that make you shutter a bit. You saw a sly smirk creep along her face.

“Is that a true request?” She asked you. You blinked a few times and decided why not and took the risk. “Sure, I don’t see why not. Just put it between your thighs.” You shrugged and watched Dany stand up, slowly unblocking her lower garments. You watched her smooth legs for show and an eyes trail upwards to what’s between her legs. A soft slightly trimmed bush, the blood stopped rushing to your head and to your dick. Kings Landing didn’t Lack whores and women, but something about Dany felt fresh, and desire burned. She giggled, seeing your thousand yard gaze at her privates. She knelt down, her soft legs stroking your thighs, and looking into your eyes. “Am I.. going to have to take them off myself?” She said, and you shook you head, gripping your trousers and pushed them down, and Dany got an eyeful of the Lions Tail.

“It’s… wow.” Dany was taken aback, but didn’t hesitate, she turned around, and plopped right on your lap, her bare ass brushing against your legs, she gently opens her legs and watched your dick fly up and softly slapped her couch. A dumbfounded giggle comes from her and she closes her legs. “So.. this is what it feels like.”

“It feels, amazing.” You leaned your head back, her soft thighs brushing and warmly gripping your dick. And softly moving around. It was mostly a Slightly Drunk Dany moving her legs around to play with her “Kings Cock.” Once it brushed against her crotch and a sensation catches her off guard. It felt good, and she wanted more. Dany placed her hands on the chair’s armrest to balance herself as she motions around, her breathing getting deeper and softer, the sensation you were feeling was something beyond imagination. Your hands gripped her waist to assist her.

“This is.. better than… i expected..” panting, Dany leaned her head back, and your hands slipped up her shirt, you slid your hands up, feeling her soft supple breasts underneath her. You leaned in, planting soft but deep kisses along her neck and it drove the Dragon Queen, a soft pinch of her nipple, a deep kiss on her neck. Her moaning filled the room, and you decided to give the dragon Queen what she deserved. Adjusting your cock you pressed against her pussy.

“Now, slide~” you held her body so warmly.

“Y-Yes~” she whines in your ear.

“Yes.. What?~” you replied.

“Yes.. my King~” she gasped, and with his Queens request you gently lowered her down on it, you felt your dick immediately get swallowed by warmth and wetness. Her gasp and deep moan signaled that she’s ready, you wrapped your arm around her waist and held onto the arm of the chair thrusting upward, you were stronger than her, making it easy to handle her body around with each punch and thrust, she bit her bottom lip to keep from yelling in pleasure.

“D-Dany.. you feel so.. fucking good! You squeezed tighter around her, the hot and sweat bending off your bodies hit the hard wood floor, which creaked slightly as you rammed your dick inside her.

“Damn you… for being so good!~” Dany let out a heavy groan. You felt the clenching of her walls on your cock, trying to drain it. You let her have it, bucking like a horse, making Dany bounce. “Fuck!” You held her waist, letting your seed erupt from the tip and into the air tight hold her pussy had on your cock. You watched her body stiffen up and her legs quiver as she has an actual orgasm. Panting, Dany leans back against you, panting, didn’t know what to say.

“Was that.. your first Orgasm?” You asked

“My.. First what?” She asked, still a bit confused of what she just felt, you laughed, softly putting your arms around her as she rested.

“.. So, you must love me now.” You say jokingly, “To have sex with me when you’ve barely known me for a day.”

Dany realized how it looked, and scoffed.

“I don’t.. I don’t love you, I.. Tolerate you.” She replied.

“Oh, well when we marry.. you can tolerate me like this for years.” You joke and snuggle up with her, Dany didn’t have the energy to argue with you, feeling your hot sweet pour down her leg. She thought to herself that yes.

She can tolerate you.

#male reader #game of throne x male reader #daenerys targeryan x male reader #daenerys targeryan #queen daenerys #smut #game of thrones smut #Ornii #game of thrones daenerys #lemon

[clockwork-ashes]

Mirrors

The Lady of Autumn had a name, although she was hardly ever called by it. Like a fading tapestry, once bright colours muted over the years, a whisper of what had been.

Summary: The Lady of Autumn has a difficult conversation with her eldest son (one-shot).

Find more Autumn Court one-shots here :)

The Lady of Autumn had a name, although she was hardly ever called by it. Like a fading tapestry, once bright colours muted over the years, a whisper of what had been. 

Callista.

Chosen by her father, a name both sharp and beautiful, perhaps a wish that she would grow up and be the same. The male who had raised her was centuries dead, along with the rest of her family, and Callista was achingly alone. 

There was a certain reverence to each of her titles, she could admit, thick as blood as they fell from the lips of those around her. 

Lady. 

Wife. 

Mother. 

The last and worst of them all, like a knife taken to her chest each time it was uttered, a reminder of everything she had never wanted. 

“Mother.” The crack of a whip, harsh and unexpected, even after the countless years that had passed. Time moved slow as honey, and the word was no less difficult to bear. 

With a wince, Callista looked up at her eldest son, feeling small in front of his towering frame. The corridor they were in was empty, torches flickering and casting long shadows on the stone walls. There were no windows, making it seem as though it was late at night when Callista knew the sun had just gone up, had watched as she did every morning as it inched over the horizon. . 

Lovely and sharp like shards of broken glass, Eris scowled. 

Callista knew he looked like her, it had always been the case. Nobles and servants alike attested to their similarities, like mirrors, they whispered, meant as a compliment she was sure. 

Firstborn, heir to the throne, Eris had never smiled as a child. Hair scarlet as fresh blood, eyes amber gemstones, pale as bone and cruel in his beauty, he still reminded her of Beron. 

Eris’ full lips were pulled down slightly at the corners in a frown, and Callista hummed in response.

“Have you been listening?” Eris questioned, and she could hear the disbelief whirling in the words. 

“Of course,” she waved a hand dismissively as she told the lie. Her mind had been elsewhere and she did not feel like explaining herself to her son. 

Eris’ lips curled up slowly, the smile empty as his eyes flared with embers in annoyance. “Then I won’t repeat myself.” He shrugged, the movement elegant even without an audience there to witness it. “Lucien’s bags are packed and we’ll be in the eastern territories, should anyone ask.” 

As though she were a puppet with her strings pulled taught, Callista straightened her spine, the sound of blood rushing to her head loud as a river in her ears. “Why?” She managed to ground out, worry deep in her gut. 

Eris raised an auburn brow at her, false confusion on his face. “It’s as I’ve said.” 

Quick as a snake, her fingers fangs, Callista grabbed onto the High Lord’s heir. Flames flashed in her russet eyes as she spoke. “Don’t play games, Eris.” She was not in the mood, and she hoped her tone suggested as much. 

“Never,” he clipped, attempting to pull away. Callista held firmly to the sleeve of his shirt, and Eris let her. “Fair to say you hadn’t been listening?” 

“Speak, Eris,” the demand was rough, and she felt as Eris bristled, although nothing of the sort showed on his face. 

Eris clicked his tongue, mocking despite how serious Callista was. “One of these days, you’ll find that I should be unwilling to help you.” It could have been a threat or a promise, but Callista was not certain.

“Not this day,” she snapped, feeling her cheeks heat with anger. The torches in the empty hallway flared around them. “Do I have to beg you?”

Eris pulled his arm back with a scowl, looking very much like his father. He straightened his shirt with a stiff gesture. “Have I ever asked you for such a thing?” 

“Hardly seems like you’re above it.” 

For decades, there had been a strain between them. Beron’s favourite son, the child she had never wanted but loved despite it. Complicated and entirely out of her control, she could still remember crying when Eris had been born. It had only gotten worse as the decades had passed, as Lucien had grown. 

Perhaps it was hurt that flashed starbright on Eris’s lovely features, but as soon as it had appeared it was gone. Expressionless and cold as ice, Eris spoke. “If you’d been paying attention, mother, you would have heard that father doesn’t want Lucien in the Forest House.” He scowled as he continued,  “at least for a little while.” 

“Why?” She asked again, praying Eris would give her an honest answer.  

“To keep him away from you, he told me,” Eris’s gaze was searching. “You spoil him.” 

“He’s a sweet boy, everyone spoils him,” Callista said, her mouth tight. That much was true, she had seen it with her own eyes, how charmed the entirety of Autumn was with her youngest son. 

“Father gave Lucien one of his daggers, you know the one with the fox hilt?” she nodded, unsure what Eris was about to say. “His to keep, first weapon handed from father to son.” Tradition, Callista knew, was valued in Autumn, where a change in power had not been had for centuries. “Would have been heartwarming,” Eris said, a restrained anger in his tone, “If not for the fact that Lucien’s eyes shone gold as daylight to ruin the moment.” 

As though she had been struck, Callista reared back. Beron had known since Lucien had been born, had seen fit to punish them all for her infidelity, but Lucien had still been claimed as his seventh son. Protection and a curse all at once. The shame would have been too great, Beron had said, to have a disloyal wife and a child that was not his own. 

“Eris–” 

He raised his hand to silence her. “Is joy to blame? Sunbright eyes only when Lucien is happy?” 

“Yes,” Callista breathed, her nerves getting the best of her, panic a near unbearable weight on her slim shoulders. She smelled copper, the sharp tang of blood, and thought it was her own. It took her a moment to realise that Eris had bitten through his cheek, an anxious habit he had inherited from her. 

Mirrors. 

“I’m taking him to my home in the east,” Eris said softly, attempting to comfort her. “Handle your husband and send word when we can return.” 

Callista felt tears embarrassingly begin to form at the corners of her eyes. “Can I say goodbye?” Her voice was small and she felt pathetic, like a horrible mother, her curse to bear. 

Eris looked ready to deny her wish, but perhaps he sensed her despair, her worry in the face of the unknown. With a sigh, a hand running through his hair, Eris offered her his arm. “I think Lucien would be devastated if you didn’t.” 

Relief rained over Callista as she gently held onto her eldest son. “Thank you, Eris,” she said ever so quietly. 

Eris did not respond, and Callista wondered if he even heard her.

#acotar #a court of thorns and roses #autumn court #the lady of autumn #eris vanserra #lucien vanserra #he's not in this but it's about him #vanserra family #i can't stop thinking about loa and eris #thank you to everyone who reads <3 #ashes writes sometimes

[deathmetalunicorn1]

Lu Bu, Leonidas and Forgotten Queen section in command having a drink and talking how Great their leader are

FQ second in command say he is scared of her as he remembers when alive that before she made her first attack and command she told her army to break their ribs, crush their skulls, disemboweled their very souls and make them beg for mercy before death

She wasn't always called the forgotten queen she was calling the demon empress as how much blood she killed and destroyed despite being merciful, he knows her lossing her son from her ex husband given the fury that he knows she made few small civilization forgot their old gold to give in new ones in their place

-The three second in commands, your own Jett, Chen Gong for Lu Bu, and Hagis for Leonidas, were all enjoying some rare down time together, enjoying food and drinking together.

-All three were gushing about their commanders, telling each other about battles they had all been in, watching their commanders lead them into battle.

-Hagis was curious, looking at Jett, “Was having a woman commander easier in your opinion? Queen Y/N seems rather levelheaded.”

-Jett choked on his drink, surprising the other two as he tried to curb his coughing, trying to calm down as he looked a bit frazzled.

-Once he could breathe and talk again, “You would think that, but while Lady Y/N was level-headed after she reclaimed her throne, at least until the final attack, but during her reclamation and that last battle…” he trailed off and visibly shivered, surprising the two.

-Chen Gong and Hagis were wide eyed, listening to Jett who was telling them of your battles, on how violent you were. Chen Gong had seen you fight before, during the war games with Lu Bu, and he knew that you were an intense warrior.

-To hear Jett’s words, “She told us to disembowel them, break bones and skulls, she told us to make her enemies beg for death before we were to give it to them.”

-Chen Gong knew you were scary, but this was scary, before Jett spoke again, “She normally wasn’t like that, but when her husband, that bastard we had for a king, killed the little prince… it was…” he couldn’t continue, and the two men shared a small look.

-You were a woman, a mother, and to have your husband murder your child, to get you to try to stop your siege, only to break you, turning you into a vengeful demon, as Jett told them many called you the Demon Queen during your fights, they couldn’t even begin to imagine the pain you must have felt.

-Jett told them, after you regained your throne and buried your son, you became the wonderful leader everyone knew you by, leading your kingdom into prosperity, giving everyone fair justice and nobody went without, which sounded like a paradise.

-Then when greedy kings, jealous of the wealth and happiness of your empire, wanting it for themselves, not realizing they were the cause of their kingdom’s misfortune, and they thought it would be easy to take from a woman.

-Everyone knew how well that went, as you took several of the bastards with you, fighting like a demoness, something Jett still remembers, as he had been in awe of your anger.

-Jett fell not long after you did, and when he woke up in Valhalla, he was fully prepared to follow you in this life as well, even if you didn’t fight anymore, you were the ruler he declared his life to, which Hagis and Chen Gong both agreed to, with their own lords.

-Jett gave them one warning on to not piss you off, else they would get an ass kicking, something neither other second in command wanted to experience.

#record of ragnarok #ror x reader #ror chen gong

[emicat1159]

So I wanted to try out some creative writing with this new auuuuuu~ gave it a cool name, "Into Ashes", not too bad right? To start of I thought to write a few paragraphs about how the main three angels- Mike, Gabe, and Raph, are told that they are to travel to a different universe and see what's there. Maybe I'll have one or two others go with them, I dunno yet. Something simple like that as a little test, you could say.. I don't know what I'm doing honestly but hey! It's fun

Anyway, writing and art:

"Listen, my son. I have an important task for you and your brothers.

There exists a world which has been abandoned by its Lord.

Go to this world, Michael. See what can be salvaged"

The final words his father spoke to him echoed through Michael's mind as he descended through the highest Heavens down to where his brothers awaited him. The skies swirled with purple and blue hues, illuminated by the stars and the ophanim who held together the galaxies. A sight he wasn't privileged to often, his work within heaven rarely gave him any free time to explore their skies the way he could when he was younger. And yet, he still felt like a young child when lifted by father's hand, as if he never left his light all those millennia ago. He tries to not think too deeply about those times.

'A rare event' he thought to himself, 'father hasn't spoken to any of us in centuries' he straightened out his suit, still wearing it after returning from a mission down on earth, he hadn't had the time to change before being summoned to his father's throne.

'I might even be completely camouflaged against the colour of the heavens right now, perhaps they won't even notice my return' he thought, amused.

Passing through the golden gates that lead to the throne of his father and into the archangels' domain, the figures of the two younger angels appeared through the thick layers of cloud. Raphael, the fourth oldest of the angels welcomed his brother back with a warm smile, his halo glowing brightly behind his head. Gabriel- the third oldest- walked up to Michael, being the first to break the silence,

"I almost thought you'd never come back down to us!" He joked, absentmindedly twirling a lock of his long hair in his hand

'A nervous tic' Michael mused

"You were gone for quite a while" added Raphael

Gabriel began again, "so... what does father want from us? It must be quite important if he asked to speak to you in person"

And so the eldest began his account of the events from the past few hours.

"We are to travel to another realm, a world that has been forsaken to ruin by its God and left to its own devices. He did not tell me what to expect, and really, this is the last thing I expected...." he trailed off, his expression perplexed, just what was his father's plan this time?

"Wh- huh? And.. how are we to get to this world?" Raphael's voice chimed in, bewilderment written all over his face. His short fluffy ears swaying as he turned his head to look back at the eldest.

"I... assume he will somehow transport us there once we are suitably prepared..?" He wasn't so sure in his answer, it wasn't unusual for his father's words to be vague. Regrettably, this is the one time Michael wishes they weren't. However, he was raised to trust in his God and His abilities.

To accept the way things are and not to question anything.

Gabriel spoke once more before turning to head back down to the lower levels of Heaven

"Well then.. no time like the present to get ourselves ready, right?"

#into ashes au #lil lucifer au #michael #gabriel #raphael #story time lmao #fanfic #wtf am i doing

[shitpostingkats]

Why did it take me until todays episode to realize how hysterical this entire show is from Kyutaro’s point of view

#when your coworkers (who might have kinda a gay thing going on but youve never really been sure) #show up one day and you just IMMEDIATELY clock ‘Oh. Oh they have a kid.’ #They did not a child the last time you spoke with them #youre not sure theyre even a couple #none of you discuss or talk about this in any capacity #also youre all assassins #buddy daddies #rei suwa #suwa rei #kurusu kazuki #kazuki kurusu #kugi kyutaro #kyutaro kugi #anime #shitty edits

[cheralith]

to a heart's content — 「 single father!miguel o'hara x reader 」

content warnings ; fem!reader, use of she/her pronouns, "mother"/"daughter"/"wife" used, parental death, mentions of child abandonment, not too much mention of him being spider-man

contains ; single father!miguel o'hara, boss!miguel o'hara, assistant!reader, hints of pining, just some good ol' fluff for everyone's current favorite dilf, angst w/ comfort, heavy need of editing prob, not beta read

notes ; purely self-indulgent to fuel my love of found family trope apologies

parts: one two three four (tba)

Single Father!Miguel O'Hara whose life revolves essentially around one person—his daughter—but to be one of the heads of America’s largest corporation and bearing the responsibility of keeping Nueva York safe and sound whilst simultaneously being a single father was not exactly something that Miguel O’Hara could juggle so easily. Hell, he’s even surprised that he’s made it so far without losing his absolute sanity considering he couldn’t even recall the last time he was able to rest properly without his attention being wavered to something or someone else.

Single Father!Miguel whose hands always filled to the brim with tasks and obligations. Miguel wished he was able to clone himself twice in order to have three Miguel O’Haras attending to each of his duties soundly, but alas, Alchemax and the matter of his mind can only do so much.

Single Father!Miguel whose ever so lucky to have you as his assistant to at least help with two out of three of them. You entered the picture around three years ago, when he had caught the eye of his superiors and had used his intelligence to their own advantage, disguising it as a promotion of sorts. You were given as some sort of gift to them as a way to help ease his workload and he truly couldn’t be more thankful for your existence—if he doesn’t necessarily show it most of the time from his stoic countenance he masks on 24/7. While not exactly a carbon copy of him, you, by far, come rather close, and Miguel will take whatever comes to him in this day and age.

Single Father!Miguel who notices that you're obedient and demure, though rather soft spoken and a little too apprehensive for his liking at times (he had noticed, before you became his assistant, that your coworkers would shovel their workload onto you and you’d accept with little complaint but evident hesitation; he wonders if it was the given similarities between you and him that made him choose you as his assistant). You dressed well, hung onto every word he said, and spoke out when properly needed. You were a good aid to have around—great, even.

Single Father!Miguel who trusts you as both his assistant and a human being enough to leave his precious daughter in your care knowing full well she would be in good hands. Sometimes Alchemax would work him overtime, sometimes his duties as Spider-Man would interfere. No matter what it was, it delayed him from seeing and attending to his daughter’s needs, and thus, he had asked you once in a while to pick up and babysit his daughter after your usual 9-5.

Single Father!Miguel who, at the beginning, once in a while asked you to pick his daughter up from school. Once in a while turned into occasionally. Occasionally turned into sometimes. Sometimes turned into constantly, and next thing Miguel knew, you were the one that his daughter and teachers would look out for during school pick up time. He didn’t expect that you would become his assistant even outside of work, but you did, and Miguel can’t exactly turn back time now. He’s labeled you as his child’s unofficial secondary caretaker—you’re even listed as an emergency contact.

Single Father!Miguel who thinks you’re too polite for your own good. Miguel had asked you once if this was a burden, being his assistant both in and out of Alchemax, and if it became too much that you were more than free to quit at any sudden time without consequence. You had merely replied that you understood the struggles of being a single parent and that he shouldn’t be ashamed of asking for help when it was needed. 

Single Father!Miguel who notices that Gabriella views you more than just her occasional babysitter. When he'd come home late at night, he was usually greeted by you two doing something together, whether it be doing math homework together, baking cookies, you reading aloud to her, or just simply talking, he'd always catch you and her almost... bonding.

Single Father!Miguel who often dwells on the memory of young Gabriella asking innocently why she doesn't have two parents like the rest of her classmates, why she only had one parent compared to everyone else after witnessing she was the odd one out during Family Day. Miguel didn't, and still doesn't, have the courage to tell her that her real mother had abandoned her to him, leaving Miguel in the dust. Miguel used her naivety to his advantage. He disguised it as her being unique compared to others, that some moms just came later in life; she just happened to be a late bloomer.

Single Father!Miguel who always thanks you for staying late tucking Gabriella into bed when he couldn't. You constantly tell him that it's truly no problem, but he insists on thanking you every time and ever so subtly increasing your paycheck. How could he not? Especially considering the fact you always, always whip him up extra dinner that was tucked away for him to eat during the late hours of night.

Single Father!Miguel who feels uneasy as he opens up a fridge to find the said pasta left by you one night in a glass tupperware container, staring at how neatly it’s been plated despite its standard container. He juts it into the microwave as he attempts to ignore how quiet and desolate the kitchen and the apartment is, how the humming of the microwave and the humdrum of the ceiling fan are the only noise that floats through. And when he quietly eats the pasta serving meant for one, he can’t help but gaze longingly at the empty seat across the dining table, where someone else should be seated with him sharing the same meal.

Single Father!Miguel who finally has the time to pick up his daughter after school for once in the school year, but forgot to tell you that you were able to take the rest of the day off. So you, him, Gabriella, and essentially everyone are surprised when both you and Miguel show up to pick Gabriella up after school. One of the teachers goes to gush about how she's excited to meet Gabriella's dad and what a beautiful family you all are, to which you and Miguel, evidently flustered, explain loosely your relationship to each other and how it's merely professional (to one curly-headed third grader, though, it's not—but she'd never tell you and her father that. At least not now.).

Single Father!Miguel who tags along to Gabriella's after school soccer practice for once and despite your protests about you not wanting to interfere "family time", Miguel and his daughter convince you to come watch her like you usually did on Wednesdays. He says he doesn't mind at all and if anything, could use your presence there to ease his nerves since he'd be a newcomer to the soccer parent group.

Single Father!Miguel who watches attentively to how you support Gabriella on the field from the sidelines. He wonders tenaciously if you've fallen into routine of this—from helping her get ready into her uniform to offering small suggestions that help her on the soccer field. He doesn't miss the way her eyes go towards you whenever she did something right and he especially catches onto the fact that she would gush in pure happiness from your approval when you would throw a thumbs up or a delighted nod.

Single Father!Miguel who merely blinks at the compliments given by the two friendly soccer mom next to him.

"Gabi does certainly look a lot like you, but she still has (Y/N)'s beauty and kindness, doesn't she?"

"Oh yes, I agree. Your wife is nothing less of lovely, you know, you're a very lucky man, Mr. O'Hara!"

He's so caught up in trying to process both their words and Gabriella's action on the field, that it doesn't register to him until a few moments later. Miguel attempts to butt in, saying that you're just his subordinate, but when a loud cheer from the other team erupts through, his words fail him.

Single Father!Miguel whose mind is still so stuck on what the soccer moms had said about you that he didn't even realize Gabriella had made the winning goal for today's practice match. Lying through his teeth when asked about if he saw it from her, he realizes that perhaps he should start viewing you in a different light rather than just his daughter's babysitter because the way that Gabriella looks at you with such elation when you congratulate her on her win pulls at his heartstrings ever so slightly.

Single Father!Miguel who contemplates over and over again if he should be doing this—inviting you to Gabriella's first game of the season—the two purchased tickets he held in his fist. You've entered his home a dozen of times, but this would be the first time in three years that he was outside of your own residence. He thinks he's too dressed up for the occasion, cladded in a white button up and black dress pants. A voice asks him if he's his daughter's boyfriend, and Miguel whips around to face an elderly man with a questioned look on his face.

Single Father!Miguel who realizes that it's your father standing in front of him, spare key in hand. He's quick to say no (to your father's disappointment), and introduces himself as your superior. Your father invites Miguel inside your apartment, telling him that you were out fetching groceries and jokingly mentions he uses this opportunity to sneakily fill your cabinets and fridge of food. Your father complains you're too independent for your own good, but he can't exactly blame you—you grew up that way.

Single Father!Miguel who learns that once in your life you were just like his daughter and that in one point in your father's life, he was just like Miguel. All details shared from him, he learns that your mother passed away early in your life due to cancer and ultimately left you and your father to fend for yourselves. Your father tells Miguel that you often had helped out even when you didn't need to—and it doesn't take long for Miguel to piece the pieces together. Why you barely complain about the extra workload, why your father said you're too autonomous, and why all those years ago you not only sympathized with Miguel, but understood his situation as you came from the same exact upbringing.

Single Father!Miguel who listens intently when your father quietly tells him that all he wants for you is to find a good man that would be able to take care of you properly because he believes he wasn't able to. Miguel is quick to reassure him, however, that he did a fantastic job raising a selfless, humble woman that grew to be compassionate and considerate of others' needs, that you were the hardest worker he had ever seen and that he shouldn't discredit himself. Your father goes to examine Miguel for a moment before letting out a loud, haughty laugh in your apartment and jokingly (not really) tells Miguel he hopes that you'll marry him one day, or at least someone like him.

Single Father!Miguel whose resolve dissipates when you walk into your apartment to find your boss and your father talking amongst each other. He sits silently and awkwardly as you complain to your father about dropping by without any warning before you ask him what was he doing here in the first place. Your father takes his leave, winking at Miguel with a glint in his eye, leaving you two in your apartment alone.

Single Father!Miguel who finally gathers up the courage to ask you if you'd like to attend Gabriella's soccer game with him. You interject with visible hesitation, telling him that it was implied that it was a family-only event and you'd hate to intrude onto something so intimate, but he's quick to reassure you that his daughter would love to have you there considering all the help you had given her during her practices—if anything, she would need you there for your support.

Single Father!Miguel who tells you that Gabriella had shown visible distress last night when Miguel told her that you might not be able to come due to your non-familial relationship with them. He almost begged you to come with them, as Gabriella had even threatened to quit soccer altogether if you weren't there to witness her first game. When you give in after moments of contemplation, Miguel truly couldn't believe his luck.

Single Father!Miguel who roots alongside you for Gabriella and her team, watching oh so closely just in case someone from the other team did a dirty trick on his precious daughter. He'd sometimes occasionally glance at you, only to see you completely zoned in and focused on Gabriella's playing like the rest of the parents, offering your support through compliments and encouragements that his daughter always caught and would visibly improve from. When she finally scores the winning goal per usual, she's quick to ignore the cheers coming from her teammates and parents to run off the field and not look for Miguel first, but for you.

"Did you see me?!" Gabriella exclaims excitedly as she flings her arms around your waist. "Did you see what I did?!"

"I did, yes," you laugh, attempting not to stumble over from the impact with visible glee and crouch down to her height. Pride written all over your face, you grin. "And I'm so incredibly proud of you."

"It's 'cause I did what you taught me," she declares. "I pointed first and then I shooted!" She uses hand gestures to reanimate her play on the field.

"Shot, Gabi," you correctly gently, your fingers going to automatically comb out the tangles out of her hair like you usually did after practices. "It does come handy, doesn't it?"

"Yeah!" Her eyes go to see Miguel, who doesn't stalk too far behind with open arms and the same proud look painted on his face. "Dad! Didja see me?! Didja see that I scored?!"

Miguel lets out a once-in-a-blue-moon chuckle and lifts his daughter into his arms, her arms wrapping around his neck in an affirming hug. "I saw very clearly, mi cariño, and I can't wait to brag about how my daughter scored the winning shot for her team," he compliments warmly.

Gabriella goes to point gleefully in your direction. "It was all because of Miss. (Y/N)," she declares, not knowing that her statement would make a rush of heat bloom onto your face.

"O-oh no... I only... w-well," you stammer out meekly, trying to find the right words. "I'm actually not too knowledgeable on soccer... I only repeated what I found online and—"

"Thank you," Miguel starts off fondly. "(Y/N), truly. Thank you."

You stare at him. "Mr. O'Hara..."

He sets Gabriella down for her to join her rejoicing teammate and pats the small of your back with a grateful look plastered on his face. You were so used to seeing the rather stoic and often tired side of Miguel O'Hara that you forgot he, too, was capable of smiling at times, so when you spotted the small of a grin on his lips that was for you specifically, you felt something in your chest jerk a little bit.

"If it weren't for you being here," he starts off quietly so only you can hear. "Gabi wouldn't have participated at all. She wanted you to come so she'd have enough courage to play because she was so used to you supporting her," Miguel glances at his daughter giggling about on the field. "So it was understandable that if her biggest supporter wasn't here to cheer her on, she wouldn't exactly do her best."

You blink slowly at him, digesting his words in order to truly savor them for all that they were. "I was just—"

"—doing your job?" Miguel finishes for you. He shakes his head. "Last time I remember, 'attending your boss's daughter's soccer games' wasn't on your job description," he says, earning a soft chuckle out of you despite his rather flat tone.

"I suppose so," you murmur with an evident warmth in your eyes, one that Miguel is sure Gabriella has seen numerous times and will continue to welcome as long as you're around.

So when after a dinner celebration at her favorite restaurant, after the star player is tucked into bed after a long day's work, Miguel takes it upon himself to do the what he thought was the impossible for him but possible for Gabriella.

"Stay safe out there," Miguel directs quietly as he helps you put on your coat again. "And again, thank you for today."

"It was my pleasure, Mr. O'Hara," you reply, "And I actually had fun today, so I can thank you for that."

He escorts you down the apartment complex to the lobby and begins to watch you leave, the words on his tongue tipping ever so slowly before they spill the moment you're about to exit through the doors.

"(Y/N)."

At the sound of your voice, you turn to him with a questioning look on your face. "... yes?"

Miguel opens and closes his mouth like a fish for a couple of seconds before blurting out, "Are you free tomorrow evening?"

He scans your face for a reaction before surprise paints itself on your moonlit features. "I-I suppose I am," you nod slowly. "May I ask why?"

"Gabi is having a sleepover at one of her teammate's house," Miguel coughs out and shoves his hands into his pockets to hide their fidgeting.

"Do you need me to drop her off...?" you ask, clearly puzzled.

"No, um," he clears his throat again. "I was... I was actually wondering if you'd... if you'd like to check out that new restaurant that opened up on Clark..."

Regret pools in his mouth the second it falls from his lips and he begins to internally conjure some sort of half-assed lie, perhaps saying something along the lines of the company wanted him to review it for a potential cater in the future or that a friend of his worked there, but when he sights your eyes softening with the same warmth from earlier, he lets you take the reigns on fate.

"I'd quite like that," you murmur, a modest smile on your lips.

a/n ; i told you i was going to give into temptation. wrote this on a plane with no wifi on the way here (thank god for offline editing!)

anyways, i'm trying to squeeze this bit out before my plane ride tmrw since i've been travelling for the past week and a half! i'll be returning home soon where i can finally write to my heart's content, phew! i just reallyyyyy wanted to write something for miguel adjdjfkfalwf but fear not! we shall be back to our regularly scheduled program soon!

as always, thank you for reading and likes+comments+reblogs are always appreciated and never unnoticed（╹◡╹）♡!

#spider-man: across the spider verse #across the spider verse #miguel o'hara #miguel o'hara x reader #miguel o'hara x you #miguel o'hara fluff #miguel o'hara smut #miguel x reader #miguel o'hara imagine #atsv miguel #across the spider verse x reader #miguel ohara x reader #miguel o'hara x fem!reader #fem!reader

[lokischocolatefountain]

Warning || Men Like Me

Masterlist

Fandom: The Last of Us Pairing: Joel Miller x Virgin!Reader Rating: 18+ Warnings: girth age gap, virgin!reader, eventual loss of virginity (not in this chapter), gratuitous descriptions of Joel Miller's body, somewhat creepy!Joel, fetishization of youth, dom!Joel, breaking and entering, playboy magazine, objectification, fingering, sexual discoveries. Word count: 6.2k Summary: Joel's warnings about what men like him would do to girls like you only makes you want him more. A/N: Back in the depths of hell again, you guys. Now this isn't the most depraved thing I've written by any means but it's up there. Come say hi in my chat or inbox, I'd love to talk. Keep a look out for follow up parts and pleeeeease give me comments. I am very very desperate.

Joel Miller was a bad man. That much he knew. 

Even as he fixed taps and renovated houses that were falling apart, he could see the blood on his hands. The very hands that packed lunches for Ellie snapped necks, pistol whipped men, stole from a starving child so he could feed his grown brother. But there were lows even he didn’t stoop down to. 

Not that he didn’t have the opportunity. Men always did. And in this world, opportunities had only tripled. Even the Boston QZ, as strict as it was, had an underground brothel. He knew Tess to frequent it and never asked questions. Sometimes she needed to bury her face between a good pair of thighs and wrap her lips around a pretty pussy, and this wasn’t something he could give her. There was a lot he couldn’t give her.

Being in Jackson should’ve civilized him. It did in many ways. He’d reverted to the southern gentleman with table manners. ‘Yes, Ma’am’ spilled out of his lips effortlessly when he spoke to women. He held the door for anyone walking in after him. He even went to Church– sorry, the multifaith house of worship–to help renovate. 

That was where his troubles began. 

There was no point in him going where people prayed. Being back in civilization did not erase his decades of disbelief in a cruel God who would take his baby and keep him on this accursed Earth. But he did because he was back to being a contractor and Tommy asked him to go fix up the pews instead of him. He didn’t have much time, being a new dad and all.

He was on his knees checking out the rotting wood and evaluating how much wood he’d need for building new ones when he was confronted by a pair of legs and a sweet voice. Yours. 

“Lemonade, Mister Miller?” 

He looked up, his eyes traveling up your legs, bare until he got to your knees where the hem of your flowery skirt sat. Pure, unblemished knees, never taken a fall, didn’t fucking creak, and never knelt before anyone but God. You looked down sweetly, eyes wide and innocent like a newborn cow. Everyone had a kind of darkness about them in this world. Everyone except the kids who didn’t know a world outside the insular walls of Jackson. And you, it turned out, even though you weren’t a kid.

He wiped his sweat off with the greasy rag he carried and looked up at you once again. You had a pitcher and an empty glass in your hands. A sweet smile on your lips and hair falling down your shoulders and reaching your breasts. A yellow ribbon sat in a bow where your neckline dipped between your breasts, adding to the innocence of your look.

“Yes please, Ma’am. Thank you,” he said, giving you a nod. Your pretty plush lips curled up, a giggle escaping them as you poured him a glass of lemonade. 

His hand brushed against yours as he accepted the glass, his hand too large to curl around it without making contact with you. You giggled again before retracting your hand and occupying it with adjusting your hair. 

“I’m younger than you, you know? Don’t have to call me Ma’am.” 

“Just being polite. Ma’am.” He took the glass to his lips, mindful to take only a small sip instead of downing it in desperation. Another adjustment to make when food was no longer a scarcity. Sweet, sour, and salty danced on his tongue before it glided down his throat. Just a sip refreshed him. And the sight of a nice girl didn’t hurt the cause either. 

It’d been so long since he had a nice refreshing glass of lemonade. Summers meant worse infestations of infected, not the barbecues, lemonades, and swimming of past. When surviving each hour was under threat, small luxuries like this became out of reach of even one’s dreams.

“Well, guess I should call you Sir then,” you said, leaning against the wall. You held the pitcher up to your chest and the tails of the ribbon on your chest dipped into it, the soft shiny yellow turning dark, tainted.

His mouth watered and fucking hell, it wasn’t the lemonade you just gave him. He took a sip of the drink and licked his lips, imagining how you’d taste if he wrapped his large hand around your neck and pressed his chapped lips to your plush ones. Better yet, if he held your legs apart and devoured you other pair of lips until you were leaking down his mouth. Would you call him Sir then? His cock twitched in his jeans as he pictured you bent over one of these pews, your skirt pushed up and his hand in your hair as he slid his cock in your hole. 

Jesus fucking Christ! What the fuck was wrong with him? 

“Made the lemonade yourself?” He asked,  groaning as he managed to get himself back up on his feet. His knees creaked like the floorboards of the houses he renovated, but ultimately supported him as he stood. He towered over you, making you appear smaller, more fragile. 

“Depends. Do you like it?” 

“It’s wonderful, of course. Hot summer day like this…I really needed it,” he said, raising the glass up a little before taking another sip. 

“Well then yes, I did make it.”

He chuckled, feeling himself pulled in by your easy charisma. It was nice to have normal conversations like this once again. No agenda, no need for establishing himself as someone who wouldn’t hesitate to beat someone up if even mildly threatened. It was just…normal. 

“It’s very sweet, Ma’am. Like you I assume,” he added, mentally dusting off the part of his brain where he stored skills for conversing with pretty girls.

You laughed, holding your free hand up to your mouth to cover your lips that widened and revealed your teeth. 

“Is that the southern charm that I hear our townspeople talk about?” 

“They talk about my charm? I didn’t hear.” 

“Oh yes, they do… Joel Miller, charming pants off of everyone in town.”

“Pants? Well that’s disappointing. I was hoping I’d charmed some pretty skirts off.” 

“Lots of experience with that, Mister Miller?” you asked, sliding your hand over the soft fabric of the skirt of your dress. Such delicate fabric. He could fist the hem and give it one tug and it’d rip right off.

“More ‘n what you got for sure,” he said, loath to hint at how infrequent his encounters had become in the recent past. Tess died, he did a cross country hike with an annoying kid, he needed to maintain a good reputation in his new town. One buried after the other. Enough to leave a man with nothing but his fist and his imagination. He would kill for a fucking Playboy magazine. Literally. He’d killed for less.

“What do you know about how experienced I am?” 

“Been experiencing longer than you’ve been alive, Ma’am.” 

“Oh well. Nothing I can’t learn.” 

He laughed nervously and stuck his hand in his jeans pocket. Surely you couldn’t be flirting… Why would a young thing like this flirt with him? He was in his late fifties looking like mid sixties and you were… He didn’t know. Young.

“If you could teach me, Mister Miller. Give a girl some experience?”

“I’m sure you can find someone else.” 

“Oh. Not your type, am I?” you asked, and he deluded himself thinking you sounded disappointed. No chance. 

He didn’t have a type. Long time since he thought of frivolous shit like that. But you shouldn’t be his type. 

“There’s much more eligible men in town is what I’m saying,” he said, suddenly hesitant to lie. Lying had never been an issue for him. The right thing was to lie, say you weren’t his type so he wouldn’t cross lines. It’d been a long time since he did the right thing.

“I’ll be the decider of that,” you said with a shrug of your shoulder before taking the empty glass from him. “Have a good rest of the work day, Mister Miller.”

Later that night, he wrapped his fist around his cock in the privacy of his room. His mind flooded with images of you spread out for him, sweet lips and a sweeter pussy milking him. He couldn’t even recall the last time he was with a woman. It was Tess, of course. Sometime before she got thrown in FEDRA jail for the last time. Too fucking long ago.

Surely it was only because it’d been a long time since he got his dick wet. He’d never, in his entire life, pictured a woman so much younger spreading her legs for him. Sucking his cock. Crying out his name. How old was she even? Not past mid twenties for sure.

It was wrong, he knew, as white hot spend spurted out of his cock and covered his hand. A sour tang took over his mouth as the fog of unadulterated lust cleared up to reveal the ugliness in his head. He shuddered, feeling like something had crawled under his flesh. He hadn’t felt guilt like this in so long. 

Wrong, wrong, wrong. 

You weren’t even as old as his kid would be had she been alive. 

He’d known men like that back in the day. Grays in their hair and skin like old leather, but pretty young things old enough to be their daughter hanging off their arm. It was obvious that none of them kept these girls around for love or for their personality. It was always sex and the feeling of self-importance when a sweet young thing paid attention to balding heads, beer bellies and limp dicks that needed a blue pill to get up. 

Fucking disgusting. 

He began avoiding you whenever you happened to be in the same space. At the house of worship, the town clinic where you interned, trading days when people exchanged what they had for what they wanted. His eyes never met yours and he always quickly looked away when they stared too long at your uh…feminine features– pretty legs, cute ass, round tits. Where the fuck did you get sundresses anyway? Who kept that shit around in this world? 

He didn’t know that when he avoided you, you took note of him. When he took glances of your features, you memorized his for later in the night when you buried your head in your pillow and pushed your fingers inside your pussy to simulate what it must be like to be with a man. 

He was older. That much you knew from his grey hair, sun-damaged skin, and gait that exuded bone-deep weariness. You knew Tommy had just turned fifty. Hard to miss occasions that meant a free slice of cake from the canteen. Joel had to be in his mid-fifties at the very least. At first glance, he wasn’t what you’d consider handsome. There were younger men in town. Fit and muscular. Didn’t groan and scrunch up their faces when they got up. Didn’t have lines on their foreheads. No bags under their eyes. 

Yet there was something about Joel that was more entrancing. 

After your first meeting when you offered him lemonade, you made sure to visit under the guise of worship. You didn’t know much about religion and were conflicted about embracing a god. The only faith you had rested in your medical instruments and the medicines the town’s chemist concocted. But it was a nice place to meet people, to check on healing patients.

The visits were worth it for a glimpse of Joel’s large hands wrapped around his carpentry tools. When the sun was the hottest, he sometimes stripped down to his tank top, giving you a show better than any film played in the community theater. His broad back looked masculine enough in his flannel shirts. But you didn’t know desire like the first time you saw him in a white tank, showing off his muscular arms as sweat dripped down his tan skin.

When you pleasured yourself in your room, it took time, imagination, your fingers, and a lot of effort to make slick pool in your pussy. That day, all it took was the sight of Joel Miller working. You sat with your thighs pressed together, rubbing them against each other in the most inconspicuous little movements. 

Could it be blasphemy if the God who was supposedly orchestrating everything made this man take his shirt off in front of you?

It made no fucking sense. Joel was old. He looked like he woke up on the wrong side of the bed every goddamn day. He had been chewed up and spat out by whatever the fuck was outside Jackson these days. Hardened expressions, graying patchy beard, hands calloused from carpentry and decades of using weaponry. Features that only indicated a long life lived, not attractiveness.

You were supposed to be attracted to the soft, sweet ones like the guys in the worn out copies of romance stories that the previous inhabitant of your house stashed in the basement. Even his little brother would be a more reasonable target for your lust. Younger, taller, softer, head full of dark, silky hair with few grays. But you wanted Joel Miller with his rough graying beard that would prick your skin were you to cup his cheek like the women on the novel covers. 

Something about him just screamed Man. Something that none of the other guys in town had. There was nothing wrong with any of the other Jackson men, but none of them made you want to take the plunge and lose your virginity. It wasn’t the lack of offers, per se. You’d gotten looks from many eligible Jackson bachelors. You had drinks with a few of them. Dinner with fewer and shared a kiss with more than one. Alright, two. But anything beyond that had you trembling in anxiety. 

It wasn’t anything precious to you, virginity. But you’d waited so long. Focused so long only on survival and then helping to build this town and now training to become a doctor. Whatever passed for doctor these days. With all your life dedicated to everything but your love life, you simply had no experience. What if you messed up and they laughed? You knew anatomy, but that didn’t translate to practical stuff. What if you couldn’t make them feel good? You’d have to see the guy all the damn time in the small town. There would be no escaping the awkwardness.

Sure it was counterintuitive to keep pushing away sexual encounters because you had no experience. But you didn’t know what else to do. You were too old already to not have done anything. But each day that passed with you rejecting perfectly nice men meant you were getting even older for your first time. 

You didn’t know where Joel fit into your need for exploring your sexuality, but it didn’t hurt to stare. God knew everyone else in Jackson did. 

So you stared. Work with his carpentry tools. Riding on horseback into Jackson after patrol. Helping with the fucking sheep. Walking around with Tommy. Carrying his nephew around town. It should be inappropriate to be fantasizing about a man when he was doing something as innocent as carrying a baby. But seeing his large hand cradling the baby’s little head made you want to scream into your pillow and kick your legs. 

“You alright, sweetheart?” 

Your heart fluttered and you let out a nervous laugh at being caught. You smoothed out the wrinkles on your clothes just to make it look like you were alright. Unfortunately you were wearing a pair of fucking jeans. You didn’t even want to know how awkward you looked. 

“‘m alright, Mister Miller.” 

“Joel’s fine,” he said, rocking his nephew in his arms.

Oh fuck, his fucking arms!

“Oh I don’t know,” you said, fidgeting with a belt loop on your jeans. “Wouldn’t want to be impolite addressing you by your first name like that.”

He smiled, recalling your conversation from the house of worship when you called him Sir and had him fucking himself in the shower to the memory. “Ah. ‘cause I’m an old man,” he said, more as a reminder to himself to fucking behave. 

“You’re not that old…” you trailed, looking him over in a way that set fire to every inch of skin that you laid eyes on.

Behave, Miller. You’re out with your nephew. 

“That so?” he asked, eyebrow raised. 

“Mhmm. You don’t look a day over seventy.” 

He snorted, making Miles stir in his arms just a little. That stung a little. It shouldn’t. Your estimation of his age, whether you were serious or not, was reminder enough that he was too old to be lusting after you.

“Thanks. I’m actually eighty-two.” 

You giggled your pretty little giggle, lowering your gaze to the ground and looking back up only when it had turned into a wide grin. “How old are you actually?”

“Old. Fifty six.” 

“Fifty-six isn’t that old…” you trailed as you brought a hand up to his bicep. Joel gulped, praying to the non-existent God that you would stop before praying to the same God that you would keep your hand right there. God answered his second prayer. You squeezed, licked your lips and looked up at him with your doe eyes.

“Checking if the hardware is still working, Doctor?” 

“I’m not a doctor yet.” 

“When do you become one then? Ain’t no Harvard handing out medical degrees in this town.”

“Howard?” you asked, squinting at him. Ah, of course you didn’t know. Harvard didn’t mean the same thing to you. Now it was just like every other building in Boston. Run over by infected. These ones were just the nerdy kind with glasses on.

“That was a thing, too. But I said Harvard. They were big universities back then.”

“Ah. Did you go there?” You asked, with no malice or bite. Oh, bless your heart. No one expected a dummy like him to have gone to university at all, much less Harvard. No one in his family had gone. Sarah was meant to be the first.

“Yeah. Traded some oxy and threw molotovs at clickers in the campus.” 

You rewarded him with a giggle and that was incentive enough for him to keep going. “Guys like me didn’t get into Harvard. Or Howard. Didn’t even go to community college. I finished high school and got a job in construction.” 

“You didn’t go to uh…construction college?” You asked, cocking your head and raising an eyebrow as though testing out the term.

“No such thing. Well, there were civil engineering programs, but I just learned on the job.” 

“Like me.” 

“Guess so. I see you reading from all those fat medical books. But there’s no need to study any books in construction. ‘cept if you wanna be an engineer or architect or something, which I’m not.” 

“Maybe you should write one. We could all do with some knowledge from before. It’s important to document it, pass it on to Ellie and little Miles over there.” 

“I ain’t writing books, sweetheart. Don’t think I even remember how to write much. I’ll just keep to fixing things up in this town. So, if you need some help with your place…I’m happy to help.” It was the least he could do. Maybe as some kind of penance for having impure thoughts about you. Or as a fucked up trade for starring in the mental images he conjured to jack off in the shower.

“There is something, actually. But I don’t have anything to trade for, so I’ll wait until I do,” you said, clasping your hands behind your back and swaying in place in an endearing manner.

“Nonsense. You patched me up just last week. You’ve done enough for the town’s health to not have to trade for anything ever again.” 

“Well, no. That’s not how it should be… It’s people’s health. Can’t put a price on that.”

“Believe it or not, health had a steep price back in the day. Cost four thousand something just to give birth. Double that if they had to cut you open.” And that was just how much it cost when Sarah was born. He was sure it had only gone up by 2003. If he hadn’t worked his ass off, there was no way he could’ve escaped debt. It helped that his Ma and his then wife’s parents helped with childcare. Would’ve been even more expensive without that.

“Damn. I don’t know how much that is, since…y’know we don’t have money now. But that sounds like a big number. It shouldn’t cost anything just to be born.” 

“Tell me about it,” he said, shaking his head. “But listen. Anything you want fixed, I’ll help out. You can give me something later if you’re worried. I know Ellie’s always on the look for new books to read and you seem to have a lot of them.” 

“Nothing Ellie would like. Not like the special limited edition of Savage Starlight or anything. Just medical textbooks and romance novels.” 

“We could trade for the lemonade from that afternoon,” he insisted, desperate to do something for you. Take care of you as you took care of everyone who walked into the clinic be it papercuts or a fucking knife in their abdomen. 

“Alright. Trade for the lemonade it is then,” you said, giving in to his pressure.

“Now tell me. What d’ya need fixed?” 

⌘⌘⌘

It had been a few days since Joel promised to fix your shower for you. Each time he came by and rang your doorbell, you hid somewhere away from your windows. When he caught sight of you in public, you quickly walked away or engaged in conversation with someone else. You didn’t need shit fixed. Everything in your house was perfectly alright. Tommy and his guys had given the place a complete makeover just a couple months before Joel and Ellie arrived. 

You were no paragon of honesty, but you didn’t make lying a habit. There were a few white lies here and there and this was meant to be one of them. It just didn’t fucking hit you that if you lied to a contractor that your shower was broken, he would eventually come over to fucking fix it. All your desperate sex starved brain wanted that day was for Joel Miller to come use his tools in your room and flex those muscles while at it.

So invested were you in that particular fantasy that as you unwound after a long shift at the clinic, it was with Joel’s beefy arms in mind. You stood in front of your mirror, taking in your reflection. One of the magazines you’d found in a box under your bed laid open on the dressing table. Playboy. Entertainment for Men. Each had a scantily clad woman on the cover. And many more inside. 

You made comparisons to yourself and the woman in the center page of the issue.

She stood in front of a dressing table too, but much different from how you stood. Her legs were on either side of her dressing table chair and her hands on the top of it. Between her arms were breasts, big and round and with smooth skin. They didn’t have any marks on them like yours. No moles, no stretch marks. Just plain. And she just stood there, soft brown hair down, tickling the top of her breasts and her lips parted as she gazed at you. No, at the men she was meant to entertain in this men’s entertainment magazine. All she had on was panties that went high up to her flat belly that connected to high transparent socks.

You reached behind your back and unclasped your bra, wishing that you had something nicer like the woman on the cover of another one of the magazines. Bright red and showing off her breasts wonderfully, but pulled down to reveal almost everything. What was the point of a bra then if it didn’t cover or support anything? Entertainment, you decided. Men seemed to be very entertained by breasts. 

Many a man had stared at yours even though you had them behind layers of fabric unlike the naked women of the magazines. Many had conversations with them instead of your face. Some brushed up against them ‘accidentally’. Joel thought he was being covert, but you felt his brown eyes rove all over them. You thought maybe that he too would brush up against it sometime, but he never did. Maybe entertainment stopped at just looking, as in the magazines. 

You wondered if Joel sought out men’s entertainment magazines like this. He was from before everything went to shit, so it was very possible that he did. Did he like the women in these pages, sticking their asses out and looking through the pages at him? Would he be entertained if he saw you like this? 

You didn’t know that if you turned your head to your bedroom door, you would have your answer. Joel’s cock strained against his already tight jeans as he stood awestruck by your figure. He swallowed as you held on to the top of the chair and lifted your knees, one after the other and placed them on the plush seat. You arched your back, a little too much at first before reducing the curve. Your ass stuck out enticingly and he didn’t know whether to grab, squeeze, slap, or spread your cheeks apart and fuck your ass. 

He should leave. 

It was stupid of him to walk into your house with a box of plumbing tools to fix your shower when you hadn’t yet given him a date or time for it. Plus you were avoiding him. Running away with your little friends and picking up stuff to hide your face from his view. He was plenty sure that when he’d rung your doorbell, you weren’t always away from home. 

He should leave. 

Fixing the shower could wait. He could confront you some other day. 

But you were putting on such a pretty little show in nothing but your panties and he was only a man. A bad one. 

His boots stayed put on your hardwood floors as you enjoyed yourself in front of the mirror. You spread your knees and let your fingers between your thighs, eyes closed, lips parted and low whines escaping your lips in just a few minutes. He palmed his growing erection over his jeans, consequences of being caught be damned. He was a foul beast already. What bad was another sin on the list? Besides, you were the one who’d left the fucking door open. 

Your soft whimpers grew into moans as you brought yourself closer and he forced his feet to stay put despite their urge to walk up to you and give you something to really moan about. 

“Fuu– mmm Joel, pleeease.”

He let out a gasp, all his restraint flying out the window as soon as he heard his name from your lips. You couldn’t actually be doing this… There had to be another Joel in town. Younger, better looking, smarter.

Your voice grew needy and the pitch higher as you kept at it. “Fuck, fuck, fuck! Gimme it, Sir.” 

No, it couldn’t be anyone else. 

Joel toed his boots off and took quiet steps towards you, emboldened by the filth that spilled from your lips. If this old man was what you wanted, he wouldn’t stop himself from reaping the benefits. He wasn’t a goddamn saint. Never was. 

He stopped in front of you, surprised you still hadn’t sensed his presence. As though the universe heard his thoughts, it had you open your eyes. You gasped as soon as you saw him and buckled off the chair, but Joel caught you. You shuddered, unable to cope with the sudden touch. 

“J-Joel?” 

“Yeah, sweetheart,” he said, touching your cheek with the back of his hand. You whined, your body molding itself against his chest. You brought a hand to his arm, feeling the rock hard muscles underneath his sleeves and your other hand worked between your legs.  

Your fingers no longer felt adequate as you felt his large fingers on your cheek. “Want you, please,” you whined, desperate to return to the edge where you had been right before you saw him. 

“You don’t know what you’re asking of me…” he spoke dangerously, soft brown eyes clouded with a kind of desire you had longed to see in him for weeks. 

“Want you…want you to be with me,” you repeated stupidly, your desperation clouding your senses too much for you to say anything else. While in the past you only wanted to get rid of your virginity, your goals had become more specific with his arrival. You wanted him. You wanted his big hands and broad shoulders, to hold on to them as you rode him. To watch his grumpy expressions turn to ecstasy under you. 

“Tell me not to touch you,” he said, his tone low and almost threatening. Any other threat from him, you would’ve heeded. But not this one. 

“Touch me!” 

It was as though something in him snapped at your words. While darkness only loomed over him before, it now completely took over.The hand that previously only caressed your cheek now wrapped itself around your neck. Before you could completely process the move, his other hand slapped yours away. He replaced two of your puny fingers with his middle finger, eliciting a strained moan from you. 

“Touching yourself to a Playboy magazine, huh?” 

You only nodded, unable to form words now that a fantasy of yours had finally come to life.

“Dirty little thing…Thought you were a nice girl and all. Helpin’ out at the clinic, head buried in books all the time. Turns out you actually got your head in dirty magazines.” 

You whined, your pussy clenching and gushing around his finger at the way he was speaking to you. The same man who insisted on calling you Ma’am despite your protests was calling you a dirty girl now. The veil of respectability seemed to have floated away at the sight of you naked and pleasuring yourself. Had you known that this was all you needed to get Joel Miller to touch you, you would’ve done it much sooner.

He added another finger, the girth of him enough to stretch you more than you had done for yourself. You brought a hand up to his shoulder and fisted his shirt, needing something to anchor yourself to. 

“You ever been taken by a man, sweetheart?” He asked, his tone too cool and casual for what he was doing to you. You shuddered, partly from his phrasing– taken, he said. Taken. Like you were a thing. Like the women in the magazines positioned so uncomfortably just so their breasts could look a certain way for the picture. Printed on the cover page with the words Entertainment for Men written on top. You shook your head, feeling small as you confessed it for the first time. 

“Any man?” 

“N-no,” you managed to breathe out, whimpering at the way the bulge beneath his jeans twitched at your simple answer. He took a step to position himself behind you, letting you lean your back against his chest. The angle at which he touched your pussy changed, opening your world up to a wonderful new kind of pleasure. 

“A virgin. Pretty young things like you ain’t for men like me,” he whispered in your neck, making you shiver. His thumb roamed between your legs as far as they could reach, caressed you gently, his softness with you contradicting his warning about men like him. The hand around your neck slithered down your torso, cold air forcing you to face your new desire of having your breath kept hostage. 

He took your left breast in hand, squeezing the flesh like someone starved would hold on to a piece of bread. It felt more like a punctuation to the warning he issued than a part of sex. Just then, his thumb between your legs stopped its search, stopping a little above the fingers inside you.

A moan you didn’t recognize as yours at first filled the room and you buckled forward. Blunt nails sunk into the flesh of your breast as he saved you before you could fall. He hauled you back up, making you collide against his chest. 

You gasped and quickly grabbed the hand between your legs, the sensation too intense for you to know what to do with. His thumb kept on, rolling over something there that set your person on fire. 

“Fuuuck! Joel– I– I– hnnng–”

“I know, sweetheart,” he crooned, keeping at whatever the hell he was doing to make you feel this way. 

“Please… I don’t– what was that?” 

You felt his chest rumble before you heard his laughter. Heat rose to your face and your throat felt strained though there was no hand around it anymore. 

“Never touched your clit? Do you even know what that is?” He mocked, the cruelty somehow not repelling you from him. He forced you to look up at him. Your heart lurched at how close you were to his face. You could see every gray hair, every minute blemish and line.

“Don’t know your own fucking body but you want a man? You don’t know what you’re handing me on a silver platter. I ain’t like the other guys in town. I walked across the fucking country and lemme tell ya, there’s no pretty things like you out there. I’m starved.” 

“Take me, then,” you begged, using his own words from earlier. “Please. Whatever you– a-aaah!” 

He ramped up the pressure on that spot– your clit– and with it, took your ability to speak coherently. It was as though he’d done it on purpose. You hated it. To be so bereft of control. To be a puppet in someone’s hand. For someone to acquaint themselves with parts of you that you didn’t know of. But it was too much to fight, so you let go. Let him play with you. Take you. Like a thing.

You renounced control of your lips too, his name slipping out effortlessly like it did when he caught you. Then you renounced what was left of your dignity and began begging relentlessly. For what, you didn’t know. In his hand, you’d gone from woman to pupper, your strings pulled by a man, your voice now his. Sounds that would be indiscernible from that of a wounded animal emanated from somewhere deep within you. 

Perhaps none of this was real. Why else did your own voice grow so distant from you? Why did your vision become blurry? Your thighs shook uncontrollably and your heart felt like it was beating out of your chest. Your eyes clenched shut, depriving you of your blurred vision. Your toes curled. You wanted to shrink into yourself, shrink away from all this goodness. You went higher and higher, soaring like a bird. Every nerve ending in your body felt electrified, awoken like one switch turned on every light on last winter’s Christmas tree. 

You let out a loud cry, the soaring bird in you reaching its peak before beginning its fall to the ground. You could hear your breaths again, labored but doing everything to stabilize itself. Your thighs still shook. Your chest rose and fell. A hand caressed your hand. Behind you, something strong supported your back. Kept you from falling backward. 

“Joel…” 

“I know, I know…” he whispered into your head. You opened your eyes and looked up at him, surprised to see a softer visage. He picked you up off the chair like you’d seen him lift giant logs before. With ease. You didn’t protest as he carried you. Didn’t protest when he laid you out on your bed. 

He bent down and picked something up. No questions, no instructions. He simply spread your leg away from the other. Cold air touched the gushing mess dripping out of you and you shivered, feeling a sudden need to cover yourself but unable to defy him. His hand was on your pussy again. His hardened, calloused fingers behind a soft fabric this time. He wiped upwards, collecting the mess he made out of you. When he lifted the fabric up, you realized it was your panties. 

He tucked it into the pocket of his jeans and then looked back at your face, the intensity of his gaze making you want to run. Problem was your weak legs wouldn’t take you anywhere. You didn’t screw your eyes shut. You didn’t pull your blanket to conceal yourself. You looked back at him, defiant. Like you were trying to prove something. I can handle a man like you. 

“Be a good girl from now.” 

That and a condescending pat on your pussy and he was gone.

⌘

Part 2

#joel miller #joel tlou #joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #joel miller x y/n #joel miller x oc #joel miller x original character #joel miller x female reader #joel miller x f!reader #joel miller fic #joel miller smut #joel miller age gap #joel miller fanfiction #tlou fanfiction #tlou smut #pedro pascal #pedro pascal character fanfic #all that i've inflicted on the world

[angelltheninth]

Making Roronoa Zoro a Real Dad

Pairing: Roronoa Zoro x Fem!Reader

Tags: nsfw, smut, breeding kink, daddy to dad, creampie, leglock, mating press

A/N: This is both breed and pregnant.

"H-Hold on... gonna come soon... need to pull out..." Zoro groaned on top of you, his hips moving against yours, cock barely pulling out of you before bottoming out again. The clenching of your inner walls made his words almost die on his tongue before he spoke them. There was conflict within him, his words saying one thing, his mind, heart and body saying another.

He needed help deciding. You knew what he wanted, what he spoke off late at night when he thought you were asleep in his arms. He often talked about giving you a baby and then pulled out at the last second. It was never the right time, too much danger to raise a child, that's what he said.

But where was the danger now? In your costal little town, in your cozy little house, in each other's arms, married. Everything you dreamed of together.

You could feel his cock pulsing, his brows were furrowed as sweat dripped across them, his mouth open and body taunt, resisting staying inside your pussy, but just barely. He couldn't make his mind up so you did it for him. When he pulled back you locked your legs around him, ankles firmly pressed over each other and arms around his back. "I don't care if you do it inside. I want it, I want your cum, I want you make me pregnant. Don't just say it this time. Please." You didn't expect the rush of emotions when you said the words, or the tears down your cheeks.

"Babe... you really mean that? You want to make me a dad?" Zoro smiled down at you and let his cock sink back in balls deep, out as far as your legs allowed before your thighs squeezed around his hips and you pulled him back down.

"Yes... put a baby in me please, please..." You whimpered, begged and pulled at him, your cunt trying to keep his cock from going anywhere but deeper inside. Zoro pushed himself up, pressing on you harder, your knees pushed closer to your chest and slammed into you with a new purpose. "Please... daddy."

"Fuck... that's... fuck it." Smack after smack, moan after moan filled your ears as Zoro kept rutting into your cunt, "I'll fill this pussyhole up with my cum. You'll be so full it'll flow out of you, there won't be anymore empty room inside you when I... come!" With one last thrust Zoro sent a wave of warm seed into your womb which you accepted with a smile. "Get pregnant, this better get you pregnant. You wanted this, take my cum and get fucking pregnant. Want to see you round and swollen with our baby."

#one piece x reader #opla x reader #zoro roronoa x reader #one piece imagine #opla imagine #roronoa zoro imagines #one piece smut #opla smut #roronoa zoro smut #zoro x reader #zoro x you #zoro imagine #zoro smut #smut drabble #smutember 2023 #x female reader

[ewwgene-fitzherbert]

lrb

#i am genuinely obsessed with im/ogens homecoming in the last ep it was so delightfully awkward and painful #everything from the fact that she didnt hide her identity and just glared at the townsfolk #and the way she spoke to her father!!! ohhh obsessed with it #and her 'daddy you couldve warned me' 'i havent asked anything of you in a long time' 'i never want you to be afraid of me' OUGHHGHG. cries #lau/ra ba/iley how do you expect me to just live my life after this #rly into the whole thing with her dad not showing her physical affection woahhh #and then theres lau/dna and fea/rne la/udna always holding her hand sleeping next to her fe/arne obsessively touching her arm #(to cast guidance obv. cute little pretext to touch ur lady friend. im onto u f/earne) #idk just!! the way bh arent afraid of her or repulsed and dont feel the need to distance themselves from her #also the way rel/vin was so bitter abt lil/iana leaving him fdhdjhfj tragic but i laughed #i mean its so sad but ?? there Has to be smth abt the fact that she never told him abt her powers right. lol #i also loooove the parallel of: parent sees danger; needs answers (li/liana; ollie) but then with the call/oways its: the couple goes #together; leaves the child behind- and with the te/mults its: the husband refuses(?) to follow- stays home with the daughter #idk its just. smthing abt the fey fam sticking together and lil/iana going alone #wheres the 3rd couple who takes the kid with them lmao #or maybe li/liana just left:( with her new gf i guess if ot/ohan was so hot and sexy and was into astrology and shit woah. fair thats gay #also rel/vin not even acknowledging laudna wow?? so like does he know why imogen snapped and murdered a bunch of ppl or. #does he think it was on a whim lol. i need mORE LOREEE #also him getting so defensive when fe/arne asked for lil/ianas belongings lmao fair fair #i liked that he did the im/ogen thing that she does where she takes a while to formulate a response #and they like rethink each and every word. and they hesitate so much and then their response is so short Yes thats so good. thank u matthew #when u could tell he wanted to say something but he couldnt figure out how or if he should and he just. gave her a pat on the shoulder. yea #ugh terrible SO GOOD #big fan!! #love it when characters cry at just the mention of their hometown thats how u Know its gonna hit #huge #huge big fan #my post

[vivwritesfics]

Best Dad Ever

Lando is the best girl dad. When his little girl wants to ride horses, he makes it happen

For @nurse-buckley for studying

Lando didn't have many regrets in life. He didn't regret karting from a young age, he didn't regret joining McLaren. He didn't regret getting married young or having a child either.

Actually, those last two were the best decisions of his life.

What he did regret was letting his four year old meet his sisters horses.

Lola fell in love. Lando hoped that she'd find Flo's huge horses terrifying and scary. But she loved them. She really really loved them. She giggled as the horse took the treat from her hand. Auntie flow had shown her exactly how to do it

She didn't get to ride Flo's horses. They were top show jumpers, Flo didn't want to put her niece at risk like that. Something Lando was incredibly grateful for.

But soon, Lando was strapping her into her car seat and driving her home. "Papa," she began as she looked out of the window, at the horses in the passing fields. "Can I start riding ponies?"

Lando should have seen it coming. It shouldn't have been a surprise that Lola had found love for those great big beasts in the same way his sister had. "Let me speak to your mother, yeah Lols?"

"Okay daddy."

Her mother didn't need a lot of convincing. "Hell yes she can go riding!" Y/N insisted. "I always wanted to as a girl but I never could," she said as she cuddled up to her husband.

"But, what if she realises she want to do karting like her father?" He pouted.

She held his hand to her lips and kissed the back of it. "I promise, Lan. The next one we have you can introduce to karting."

Lando really liked the sound of that.

***

For Lolas first riding lesson, Lando was there, watching. He arranged it for a date he wasn't at a race and held his wife's hand as he watched. He was so incredibly nervous. Even if all Lola had to do was sit there, he was still terrified.

Soon she was riding every week. Lando desperately wanted to be at every lesson, but, before he knew it, he was at a race.

He wasn't there for the first time she trotted. "Please video it, baby," he said to his wife as they spoke on the phone.

She did just that, recording as she sat tall, the little pony beneath her trotting. Lando watched the video again and again, showing it to anybody that would watch.

He was there for her first lesson off the lead rope. He couldn't stop the smile on his face as she steered the small grey pony over the set of poles.

Lola kept up her riding lessons for a year. Lando attended as many as he could.

When that year of riding lessons was up,y Lando was on a mission to do something big.

It arrived at his location in the mid morning. As soon as it did, Lando put his phone to his ear. "Baby, bring Lola to the yard," he said.

Without questioning him, she got Lola into her riding boots, strapped her into the car and set off for the stables.

"Where's daddy?" Lola asked as they drove.

"He's gonna meet us there, sweety," Y/N said as she drove.

Lola frowned. "Why?"

"I don't know, Lol's."

As soon as Lola was out of the car, she was running towards her father. "What's going on, Daddy?" She asked.

Taking her hand, Lando walked Lola towards the barn. "I got you something, Lol's, " she said.

Lola gasped when Lando pointed to a stable. In that stable was a black pony, wearing a pink headcollar. "Lola, baby, I'd like you to meet Raven," said Lando. "He's your new pony."

Lola let out a little, quiet scream. "Really, daddy?! He's all mine?"

"He is, baby."

Lola through her arms around her father, squeezing him as tight as she could.

#lando norris #lando norris imagine #lando norris x reader #lando norris fluff #lando norris smut #lando norris x you #lando norris x reader smut #ln4 #ln4 imagine #ln4 x reader #f1 #formula one #f1 imagine #formula 1 #f1 x reader #formula one x reader #formula one imagine #formula 1 x reader #formula 1 imagine

[itsharleystuff]

- ̥۪͙۪˚┊❛ 𝐌Í𝐀 ❜┊˚ ̥۪͙۪◌

Gif not mine!

— 𝐏𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: Javier Peña x afab!fem reader (implied hispanic/latina)

— 𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 7.3k

— 𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: After a major fight between the two of you, a month goes by in which you give each other the silent treatment, figuring out if you should start seeing different people. However, Javier has a problem: he can’t get his dick hard for anyone that isn’t you. So, when he sees how easily you can move on from him, he gets awfully jealous.

— 𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: 18+ content (minors dni!), sex, possessive/jealous behavior, unprotected sex, p in v, cuffs, slight dirty talk, semi-public sex, use of ‘slut’, pet names (sweetheart, corazón, cariño, hermosa, etc.), praise kink, come eating, oral sex (f! & m! receiving), mentions of drugs, smoking, a bit of angst, very little plot (mostly filth), weirdly structured plot. I think that’s it.

— a/n: there’s some phrases and words in Spanish, some are translated and some aren’t. Let me know if translations are needed :)

No use of y/n.

-ˋˏ✄┈┈┈┈

Javier Peña has never been a jealous man.

It's simply never been in his nature, not even when he was a child playing around with toys that he loved to share. And nowadays? Well, he had other stuff in mind that didn't leave any room for those pedestrian feelings.

As of now, he -supposedly- didn't have anything to be worried about. Specially not women.

Everyone knew he fucked hookers so good that they'd spill all their secrets in his ear, and that he was attractive enough to leave a bar with company just after a couple of minutes from arriving there. But to anyone observant, it was obvious how bad he had it for you.

Still, that didn't stop him from being an asshole.

You remember the last time you two spoke and how it turned out to be a fucking disaster: basically, he didn't like the idea of exclusivity because it involved feelings that he wasn't ready to admit, so you had called him a slut (along with many other insults) and he'd said that you were childish and sensitive. So naturally, everything went downhill after that fight.

Currently, things were pretty tense with Javier, even at work. But things just got worse when the Colombian police sent you onto an undercover mission, nothing really extravagant but still quite dangerous. And apparently, the DEA knew nothing about it.

The task was rather simple: you'd go to one of Medellin's busiest nightclubs and find out if there was a cocaine distribution line working there. The problem was what the agent had overheard from Carrillo. Not only did he knew now that you were at the place, but he also had word that one of the cartel's most wanted sicarios was about to be there too. And knowing the Coronel as well as he did, you were right in the middle of a crossfire. He arrived at the club earlier than any of them, hoping to find you quickly and draw you out before the asset came in.

But, oh hell.

What he saw the minute he stepped in almost made him lose his shit.

⩇⩇:⩇⩇

You had no business being in there this late. You'd already passed down all the information needed to your boss and now you were just waiting for the cartel's member to arrive so you could call Carrillo and let him finish the job.

But in the meantime, you decided to at least try and have some fun. After everything that went on with Peña, you felt like you deserved a distraction.

The music was loud, reggaetón reverberating in your body as you danced, eyes wide awake in case the target decided to show up. The stranger you were dancing with had his hands all over your body, holding you close to him while you moved in synch. He was handsome in a boyish way, and a bit clumsy, but good enough to take your mind off from the irritating DEA agent. At least for now.

To be honest, you didn't lack any attention at the moment. Both men and women would come up to you, hoping to get a piece of what you had to offer. It came without saying that everything about you tonight resulted appealing to the kind of people that frequented the place, being an undercover assignment you did your best to blend in. And it seemed to work out wonderfully. The flashy makeup and short dress that only accentuated your figure made you stand out amongst the rest; nevertheless, what really attracted everyone's gaze wasn't any of that, but the confidence with which you'd walk around the place like you owned it.

"¿Qué tal si nos vamos pa' un lugar más oscurito, mamacita?" (How about we go to a more private place?) The guy, whose name you didn't even know, proposed. And though the idea sounded nice, your job wasn't quite finished.

"Not yet, papi. Dame un par de canciones más." (Let's dance a bit more). He hummed in response, his hands traveling from your lower back to grab your ass firmly.

"Usted manda." (You call the shots). The answer made you smile cheekily as you lean in to him, hoping to connect his lips with yours.

However, you definitely didn't expect to be abruptly pulled back with force instead, ripping you apart from the man's hold.

"What the hell..." you start to complain and twist in the strangers grasp, who started to drag you out the dance floor and keeping your wrists behind your back.

"Hombre, ¿pero qué diablo' le pasa?" (What's wrong with you, man?). Asked your poor companion, glancing over at the guy that took you away from him.

But you knew exactly who he was even before he spoke. You'd recognize that musky cologne anywhere, mixed with the scent of cigarette smoke. Damn, even your body recognized him so well that the way his fingertips dig on your skin flooded your mind with memories from the past.

"Peña." You mutter through gritted teeth, not bothering to turn your head towards him.

"It's agent Peña to you, sweetheart." He snarls, completely blowing off anyone that would try to get in his way to lug you outside.

A new, fueled up rage crept up your spine while he harshly pulls you to te entrance, right were you see the colonel's target going in.

"Let go of me, mierda!" You struggle against him, not wanting to actually put on a fight but just make him reason. "I have a fucking job to do, so let go of me or..."

"Or what?" Javier spins you around carelessly, leaving your face so close to his that your breaths merged with each other's, chest pressed against your own as he keeps you still, his hands gripping you so hard that it would certainly leave bruises.

"I need to call Carrillo. I'm working, even if you don't believe it." You tell him, letting your racing heartbeat start to settle.

The man's eyes were dark, covered by a shadow of anger that matched his stern expression. He was always handsome, but whenever he'd get mad, Javi was hot. Although it was unusual for you to see him like this, him being always attentive and careful, though still very passionate. He would never explode, not even when the stress and tension became too much to handle. But then, you realize...

"No way..." you scoff, keeping direct eye contact. "You're jealous, aren't you?"

His reaction is immediate, turning your body again and flushing your face against the trunk of his jeep Cherokee, bending you over the car. You gasp audibly, feeling the cold metal under your cheek and his body towering upon you while he holds you down by the back of your neck. Javier's lips brush the top of your ear when he leans down to you.

"The fuck do I need to be jealous about, cariño?" He whispers lowly, his hot breath giving you goosebumps and making your knees tremble. "Eres mía, you've always been."

Ah, fuck.

Despite all the shit that you went through with him, the effect he had on you remained the same. No matter what, the agent was aware of it, conscious of how you'd always melt under his touch, he just knew all your sweet spots by core memory and what'll have you squirming underneath him. Yeah, even if your mind tried it's best to erase Peña, your body would always betray you.

"You lost your chance." You mutter in a bittersweet tone. "Now get the hell off me so I can finish my task."

He doesn't instantly let go, but eventually loosens the grip on your nape. Though right when you thought he'd actually let you free, there's a cold metallic sensation brushing on your wrist and you suddenly can't move your arms from your back. The motherfucker had just cuffed you.

"Malparido, hijo de..." You ramble, straightening your back to glance at him in exasperation.

"Don't move." He growls, opening the driver's door and taking his radio out. The agent starts to talk through it, but you're way too outraged as to pay any attention, your vision going red when you catch your name, the words 'Carrillo', 'sicario' and the place were you're at, figuring out that he's doing the part of the job that corresponded to you.

"You're sick, Peña." There's no reply to the snarky comment as he simply shoves you in the back of his truck, rather carefully, considering the situation.

You watch intently while he gets back on his seat, analyzing every detail about him. It wasn't anything special, you had seen him quite often at work after your fight, and nonetheless, now... Something seemed off.

Javier was wearing a red button shirt under his black leather jacket, from which he drew out a pack of cigs and a lighter. He appeared the same, however, you could sense the tension on his shoulders and back, the kind you'd help him deal with before, and it almost felt like he was holding back from doing something. Heck, you hated it. You completely despised arguing with him, being apart from the man almost made you physically unwell.

But that was the root of this whole problem. You were able to admit it; how much you liked him and didn't want anyone else. Him on the other hand, wasn't ready for all that. Although, despite him implying that he couldn't fully commit or correspond to your feelings... Right now, his actions were very contradicting.

Because Javier Peña never got jealous.

And yet, there he was.

Perhaps, if you spurred him on just enough and cornered him in a trap... Perhaps then, he'd be able to admit it. 

"So what now, agent?" You wonder, laying your back flat on the leather sit, feeling the coldness of the material on your exposed skin and trying to find a comfortable position. "You mind explaining yourself?"

He looks at you through the rear-view mirror, brows furrowed and jaw clenched. A challenging fire shines in your eyes when you lock glances with him. But he doesn't say anything, simply starting the car and getting the windows down before lighting up a cigarette.

"What about you, sweetheart?" He asks, the fag hanging from between his lips as he starts driving away from the club. "Care for elaborating on your actions?"

You snort, gaze diverting towards the window. "I was just killing time."

The streets of Medellin were loud and busy, specially on the weekends. But at the moment, the paths were dark and quiet, as if everyone knew that there was a storm coming and they had to stay out of the hood.

"So that's your idea of 'killing time'?" He comes again, tapping the cigar out his window to leave the ashes behind. "Letting random men grope you in those wrenched bars?" You grin, still defying him with your attitude. "And yet, I'm the slut..."

"You must certainly are, Peña." You reply condescendingly, watching the road. "When I was with you, that was it. No one else even crossed my mind. But then, you? How many other women did you have besides me?"

He grunts, taking a long drag without looking back in your direction. You recognize certain spots and locals, but none of them were anywhere close to your apartment. Instead of asking were he was taking you to, the idea you previously had lingers on your mind.

Red light.

"You know, ever since we... Well, ghosted each other. I've actually had tons of fun." His eyes darkened, but no matter all the warning signs he was sending with his body, you just couldn't hold back anymore, starting to play a game that might get out of control. "Actually, you know that guy working with the CIA? Balcázar?"

Javier looked so gorgeous while driving. His big hands over the lever and muscles flexing whenever he'd make sudden moves. Even now, tense as an arrow an white-knuckling the wheel at your words, he was the hottest man you'd seen.

"Shit, he’s good..." you purr, slightly arching your back so he'll get a better view of your breasts, barely contained in that tiny dress you were wearing. "I really miss him. Hated it when he went back to New York."

His stormy glare was on you, watching closely every single move you made. Your legs were briefly parted, just enough for him to peek a sight of your laced underwear. The agent's breathing became ragged and he had to try his best to stay concentrated.

"Careful, cariño." You hear him rasp out with a hint of danger. "You really don't want to go there."

Green light.

He puts the cigarette out and throws the tail away carelessly.

"Ay, Peña." Your voice goes an octave lower, licking your lips. "Don't act like you haven't been to every brothel in the city trying to fill in my spot."

The man huffs a laugh, shaking his head in disapproval. "I know what you're doing." You look at him through your lashes, faking innocence and confusion. "But if you really want me to say it, there hasn't been anyone else."

"Yeah, right..." That mocking tone was really getting on his nerves.

"Not even when we were together." Javi sulks out.

"Then why was it so difficult for you to be serious with me?" You question grimly. "Do you not like me?"

His eyes bore back into yours somberly, as if you'd just said the stupidest thing in the world despite the graveness in your voice and expression, lazily scanning you head to toe.

"Like you?" It sounded like he was struggling not to come off sardonic, cocking an eyebrow at you. "I can't believe you just asked me that."

You lean in towards him when he takes an unexpected turn, inhaling his particular scent mixed with the leather and smoke. Suddenly, he parks the car someplace dark and empty that resembled an abandoned gas station. Kind of creepy, but you recognized the area now. It was a neighborhood located a couple of blocks away from his apartment.

"Why?" You coo, taunting, patiently testing how much he'd spill. But Javier won't meet your glance, focused on the nothingness ahead of him.

"Because I can't even get my dick hard for any other women, for fucks sake!" He howls, rubbing his face with his palm, clearly pissed.

At first, you thought he must've been joking. But the way he said it came out so frustrated that it made it hard to believe he was lying. His bold statement gave you a rush of power, knowing that you had him in mind and body, the man that made every woman he acquainted feel like a schoolgirl crushing on a senior. You understood why he was so mad right now; it wasn't only cause he was jealous, but because he hated seeing that you could easily move on to the next man while he remained stuck.

Though it was a lie. You only responded to him and you wanted to prove him that. But Javier had to acknowledge the mistake he made.

"Perhaps you're just old." You teased, "Have you tried pills for that?"

His reaction was so unexpected that you had barely any time to process the circumstances. He got out the car and opened the passenger's seat, tugging at your arm to get you out the jeep apprehensively.

"Take a guess, sweetheart." He grits next to your ear, his chest pressed to your back.

"Fucking hell..." you mewl at the feeling of Javier's hard boner firm against your ass. His hands hold your waist for a second before manhandling you to the edge of the back passenger's seat, hunching down in front of you with both hands gently gripping the exposed flesh of your thighs and looking up at you with fiery eyes.

"If you want me to say it, fine." He bites, giving up. "I made a mistake. It was stupid." Then his tone denotes the way he's struggling to contain anger. "I can't bear it. Seeing you with other men... It drives me insane. I can't even think straight- shit, I almost blew a whole ass operation tonight just because I saw you dancing with that guy." You gulp, remembering how furious he was just a few moments ago. "But let's not fool ourselves, cariño. We both know you haven't slept with anyone else either."

How he figured that out was a mystery to you. Maybe he truly was a very good agent.

There isn't a retort in your behalf. What could you possibly say anyway? He had you figured out already, he always did.

Back in the day, when you first started working with him, Javier acted like a complete shithead. Him an Murphy would give you a hard time with the DEA, always getting in trouble, messing up your schedules and bribing confidential information out of you. That's how you grew closer to him. Peña used to invite you for dinner or beers as an apology, granted that he always looked forward to take you back to his apartment, of course. Except you had heard the rumors regarding his reputation, and that was a well in which you weren't particularly eager to fall in, specially since he was a coworker.

Yet, it was all in vain. How could you ever say no to him if he'd look at you with those sparkly, deep brown eyes that resembled a lost puppy? You fell for Javi's smug smirk, the groovy hair, plus that confident and bite-back attitude of his, knowing how it would eventually end. Even so, no one could really blame you. He acted different around you, people were able to tell, brighter, more open and honest.

"See, I'm sorry about what I said..." you start, but he cuts you off.

"Don't be. I deserved that shit." The man stands up, taking a bunch of keys from the pocket of his jeans and going to take off the cuffs. "You should feel sorry for all those poor guys you toyed with while thinking about me the whole time."

You stretch your arms and massage your wrists, unwilling to meet his intense gaze, conscious that you'd fall for his charm immediately. He worked smarter, grabbing your chin to raise your face towards him.

"Did you enjoy it?" He hissed, fingertips digging on your jaw with moderate force. "Having other men grab your ass while everyone watches? Teasing the hell out of me in the office with those obscenely tight skirts and talking to Murphy as if I wasn't right beside him?" Your tongue darts out to lick your lower lip, not breaking eye contact. "Answer me, corazón."

"Yes," you respond cockily, "I enjoyed it." His face swiftly sobered, a muscle feathering in his jaw. "But I didn't think it had any effect on you, so it felt like a waste of time and effort."

Javier laughs huskily, bending forward. You close your eyes, thinking he's going in for a kiss, but instead his lips go to rest on your jawline, pressing open-mouthed kisses along your neck and all the way down to the valley of your breasts. As of now, you're a panting mess, already turned on by his adamant behavior. The fact that you were finally getting to feel him like this after a month or so of completely ignoring each other... It felt divine.

Your tug at his shoulder as he keeps nibbling the sensitive skin. The agent knew your body better than anyone else ever could, he'd memorized all the spots that would have you moaning and squirming underneath him, which was the case just now.

"Javi..." you sigh, running your hand through his hair.

"You're such a fucking brat." He reflects, kneeling between your parted legs. "A month ago I was merely a ghost to you, a few minutes prior I was simply 'Peña'. But when my lips are on you I'm suddenly 'Javi'?" He boasts with a devilish grin. "How convenient..."

"Mmm..." he laughs gruffly at your loss of words, his fingers hooking your underwear beneath the dress and slowly pulling it down.

At this point you're so wet it's embarrassing. It was probably due to the lack of sex you've had recently, or perhaps you were really growing fond of this new phase of his and the idea of Javier being possessive over you.

"Don't you dare look away." He warns roughly, peeling the fabric off you with a tad of your help. "Keep your eyes on me. I'll only tell you this once."

You nod eagerly. "Javi, are we- are we going to do it here?" It wouldn't be a new thing, you've done similar stuff in the past, though never in such an open space, despite appearing deserted. "Your place is barely a few blocks away..." His lips graze the soft skin of your upper leg, the feeling of his mustache raising goosebumps on your body.

"Can't wait." He stated, voice tinted with lust whilst his palm caresses your calf. "Need you now."

Somehow that made the pit of your stomach feel warmer. The rush of excitement coming from that desire he had for you had gave a thrill of control, completely ignoring how he was the one in charge of this situation. Javier carefully slips your dress upwards, taking in every single reaction you had to his touch and cursing at the sight of your throbbing pussy. The heat of his breath against your exposed core only increased your arousal, seemingly encouraging him.

"Shit, this cunt really did miss me, huh?" You nod again, basking in the contact of his nose brushing your clit, sending shivers down your spine.

In spite of your low whimpers of need, he deliberately denied you of his touch were you most needed him, simply roaming his lips and fingers over your inner thighs and pubic bone. Desperate, you scratch his scalp softly, pulling a groan from him.

"Javi, please..." he was definitely going to make you beg for it, regardless of how much he wanted it too. 

"Did you let anyone else do this to you?"

"No." You breathe out.

"Good." His thumb suddenly falls on your clit, rubbing slow circles. You squeal from the spontaneousness of the action, squeezing your eyes shut for a second. "This is mine." Then he slides down his finger to slightly part your swollen lips, coating it with your slick. "All mine."

"Sí, Javi."

"That's right, corazón." He murmurs, slipping two digits into you. "I'm going to fuck you so good that you won't ever think about anyone else." He sets a pace pretty quickly, pumping his fingers in and out, curling them to hit all the right spots. "I'm the only man for you. Understand that?"

"Yes, shit-" you choke down a moan when he mildly pinches your nub. "You are."

He makes a satisfied noise before diving in your pussy, starting to lick and kiss your clit without pulling out his fingers, maintaining a relentless pace and rejoicing himself in the sounds he'd pull from you.

"Fuck, that's good..." you manage to say, knowing how he likes the praise, your hand messing up his hair.

Javier pulls away for a second, grabbing your thighs to part them further and place your legs over his shoulders eagerly, hungrily looking up at you. You arch your back, ever so responsive to him while struggling to maintain a hold of yourself.

"So pretty." He whispers, admiring how your chest goes up and down from your rag breathing, your face contorted by pleasure as his fingers disappear in your cunt, the squelching sounds of your pussy and the moans spilling from your lips making him painfully hard. "Toda mía."

Your legs were already shaking, your body being so sensitive and needy. Specially for him. Always for him. But it wasn't enough and you both knew that. Though before you can beg him for more, his mouth takes place were his digits used to be, eating you out as if you were his favorite meal, lapping you up kind of selfishly, almost like he did it for his own pleasure.

"Javi, that's-" you can't even form coherent sentences without being interrupted by your cries of pleasure. "Too fucking good."

His tongue is hot and soft between your folds, licking up your slit as he rubs tight circles on your clit, fucking you greedily and moaning graciously against your slickness. Also, the image of him between your legs was always a sight to see, adding to the pool of arousal. You start seeing white spots and the knot in your lower stomach starts to loosen as the orgasm approaches, gripping the leather seat as if your life depended on it. It's a good thing that he's holding you, cause in a matter of seconds your whole body starts to tremble and his name leaves your lips repeatedly.

"I can't- shit!" You pull his hair involuntarily and he groans in response, the sound vibrating through your core and pushing you to the edge. "I'm gonna..."

You can't even finish speaking before you're coming undone in his mouth, feeling the hot waves of satisfaction wash over you. He doesn't pull away until you're practically whining from the overstimulation, trying to regain composure as he licks you clean. When he does, his eyes peer at you, intoxicated with desire as he starts to stand on his feet, towering over you.

"I missed that sweet taste of yours." He licks his glistening lips and you wish he'd finally kiss you. "Can't get enough of it."

Your hands reach his belt, trying to unbuckle it, but he takes your wrists to stop you.

"What's wrong?" You question, genuinely confused.

"I'm taking you to my apartment. I'm doing this properly." He retorts. However, you're too turned on now to care about the place.

"Please Javi, let me do something for you." One thing that made him go stupidly insane for you was the way you were never coy when asking for his cock, looking up at him with pleading eyes. As if having him on your throat gratified you. "I need you."

He almost caved in. Almost.

"Stop that or I'll cuff you again." He grumbles, only making you smile.

"Do it. I don't need hands, I can always take you in my mou-" Javier flips your body abruptly, pressing your face against the seat, and you can hear the familiar sound of metal clipping in.

"Such a greedy slut." He fixes your dress, not without subtly smacking your ass beforehand.

"Mm, can I at least get my panties back?" You ask in defeat, turning to face him, but he was already shutting the door.

"No." He quickly starts the car as you settle on the back, catching a glimpse of your reflection in the mirror. Your cheeks were flushed and lips plump from biting them, eyes still sparkling from the high post-orgasm.

"Do you like me like this?" You wonder as he begins driving. "All fucked out, cuffed and ready for you to take?"

Peña doesn't answer immediately, not daring to look back at you but desperately wanting to do it.

"I do." He answers, eyes on the road. "I like you naked. And dressed too, specially with those pretty skirts. I like it when you tell me how your day was, or when you're reading quietly." His words make your heart flutter, blushing harder. "I like listening to your voice, and the way your gaze always seems interested whenever I talk about me. Shit, I even like you when you're ignoring me." You can almost hear his smile, if that made any sense. "I like you all the damn time, hermosa."

Honestly, you weren't expecting such a straightforward answer, finding yourself at loss of words. Nonetheless, you didn't need to say anything, cause sooner than expected you were being taken out of the truck, flashes of the building he resided in passed right in front of your eyes while he dragged you through the dark, silent halls.

"Javi..." despite having limited mobility, you lean towards him, whispering in his ear. "Please kiss me."

He laughs dryly at your plea and struggles to open the door. "You want that, huh? ¿Quieres que te bese?" Then he takes your arm to drag you in, closing the door behind him.

"Yes, mi amor. I missed you so fucking much." You stay close to him, your face nuzzled on the crook of his neck. His hand brushes the hair out of your face and he presses his lips to your temple.

"Hm, is that right?" He hums and you can feel it against your nose. "Didn't seem so."

You back off swiftly, keeping your eyes locked with his. "I'm sorry, Javier. I really am."

Something shifts in his gaze, a possessive, deep emotion takes over him and he decides to take you up on your previous proposition.

"Prove it." He commands, voice hoarse. "Show me how much you missed me." The idea of getting what you wanted pursed your lips in a mischievous smirk. "I'll kiss you afterwards if I'm convinced."

Instead of responding, you start peppering kisses all over his jaw and neck, going as far along his chest as the buttons of his shirt would allow you. He lazily unbuckles his belt and pants while you lower yourself to your knees in front of him, but doesn't bother to go any further. It was going to be difficult, though nothing you haven't done before, nearly forgetting the cuffs as you craved his taste.

You rub the side of your face on his stiff erection, feeling how hard and hot he was under the tight fabric of his jeans and a low groan scratches his throat. You mouth at it before taking the zip between your teeth and sliding it down, eyes peering up at him at the same time. Javier observes every move attentively, his cock twitching at the sight of your lust-drunken gaze, breath starting to become unsteady when you kiss and lick the head of his dick over the thin fabric of his boxers. You taste the precum throughout it, salty and good, before pulling down his underwear by lightly biting the elastic.

Your mouth waters at the view, jaw going slack even before taking him in your mouth. His girth slaps against his clothed belly, tip red and leaking, just as big as you remember. Shit, you really had missed him. Javier's hand tangles in your hair, running his fingers in between the locks lovingly. He gasps when you press your lips to the slit, kitten licking the top and starting to spread wet kisses all over his length, running your tongue along the shaft, his musky scent getting to your head quite fast. He loved how every time you were on your knees for him it felt like you adored him, as much as Javier did you.

And it was true. Knowing how good you made him feel satisfied your senses, every expression and single noise he'd make could turn you on and push you to edge so easily. The man was simply delightful.

“Fuck, sweetheart…” he sighs, caressing your cheekbone with his thumb when you finally suck him in. “That’s it, wrap those gorgeous lips around my cock. So pretty…”

He lets out a gruffly moan as you take him further, watching as he screws his eyes shut and throws his head back, the sound so divine that it immediately makes your pussy clench around nothing. Javier is thick. And it’s always so hard to get him all in your mouth, but this time you make a double effort. You run your tongue against the veins on the underside of his dick, enjoying the weight of it in you, the taste and the admirable sight of him coming undone while he tries his best not to start fucking your face without warning, laying his palms flat on the wall behind you.

“Shit- that’s…” he grumbles, head spinning from pleasure, unable to make up any thought or manifest anything into words. You start bobbing your head up and down his length, hollowing your cheeks to provide more warmth.

You’re dripping, feeling the slick run down your thighs and the ache becoming unbearable. You squeeze your legs together in order to release some of that need, letting out a whine that vibrates through him and makes his hips jolt into your mouth.

“Fucking hell…” Javier’s hand snakes to the back of your neck, massaging the soft skin. “Does it turn you on to get me off like this, hermosa?”

You hum in response and the feeling sends him to oblivion, letting out a coarse moan that shocks another wave of hotness between your legs.

“What a nasty girl you are.” He mumbles breathily, “My girl.” He’s practically shaking at this point, the head of his cock hitting the back of your throat and your nose pressed against his pubic bone.

Air wasn’t a necessity at the moment, your ears ringing and the corners of your eyes watering. He warned you he was close but you didn’t back out, letting him hold you for support. He gasps out a raspy ‘fuck’ when he releases, hips stuttering and back arching slightly as his cum hits your tongue. You pull apart just enough to lap at the tip while he rides it out, feeling him throb in your mouth while you savor him until he’s completely spent, soft moans barely audible.

You wait until he opens his eyes again, brown gaze meeting yours between shaky breaths. “Will you uncuff me now, agent?”

He huffs a laugh, tugging himself back in his jeans before helping you get up and taking the metal cuffs off. For a second, none of you say a thing, simply staring back at each other with a swirl of emotions between you. But then he says your name, merely a whisper that makes you crumble.

“Don’t do that, Peña.” You scold, turning your back to him and walking towards the couch, taking a seat and listening to the leather crack under your weight.

“What do you mean?” He turns to you, hands on his hips, pants unbuttoned and hair messy.

“When you say my name like you need me and give me those puppy-dog eyes, I actually believe that you want me for anything other than sex.” He seems disappointed, mostly on himself. “So can we just fuck and get this over with?”

“Is that what you think I…?” Javier shakes his head and follows your direction, but only observes from above. “It’s not like that.”

You take off the heels, your feet starting to hurt. “Then how is it?”

His hand goes to your chin, urging you to look up at him. “I’m not good with this… I screwed up back in Texas and I did it again with you.” You gulp, your hands tightly gripping your knees. “I don’t know how to handle this sort of things, and it’s been a while since I felt like this for anyone…”

He takes the jacket off and sits on the edge of his coffee table in front of the sofa, cupping your face in his hands.

“All I know is that every time we’re together, nothing else matters. Things feel right. But when you’re not with me… Shit. Life becomes insufrible. I can’t sleep, can’t think, fuck, I can’t even have sex!” He looks genuinely irritated. “Everything’s about you when you’re away. And I can’t tolerate to see you with anyone else. It’s like someone just took a shot at me.”

You inhale sharply, taking his hand in yours without breaking eye contact. “Why didn’t you tell me? I would’ve came back to you.”

“Precisely. I tried not to be selfish and let you go, but I can’t. It hurts too much.” He pouts, as if the mere thought made him sick. “And you deserve better.”

Inevitably, you roll your eyes. “Don’t bullshit me, Peña.” He furrows his brows at your reply, his palm falling from your cheek to his lap. “That’s crap! You think you know what’s best for me?”

“Well shit, I’m sorry for trying to look out for you.” Javier snarls back.

“I don’t need you to do that, you idiot.” You grab his jaw, taking him by surprise. “I know what I want and I was straightforward about it,” His heart starts thumping against his ribs. “So, if you want me, take me. Cause if you don’t… Someone else might.”

Your statement stirs his pot and his expression shifts. “Fuck no. You’re mine and I’m yours. That’s how this is going to work.”

“Yeah?” He lets out a throaty growl and leans down towards you.

“Yeah.” His mustache tickles your upper lip when he crashes his lips to yours and you whine into his mouth.

It was desperate and demanding, ripping all the emotions from you. Javier tasted like cigarettes, a hint of mint and of you. And you tasted like tequila, honey and of him. His cologne was a little faded, but you could still smell it.

“Say you’re mine, corazón.” He mumbles when he pulls back for air, forehead pressed to yours. “I don’t care if you’re lying, I need to hear it.”

You take him by the collar of his shirt so that he’s sitting down next to you, snaking your hand to press the palm against his bare chest.

“Soy tuya, Javi.” You tell him, laying a small kiss to his lips. “I mean it.”

He smiles cheekily as he pulls you on top of him, spreading your knees to each side of his thighs, your dress slipping upwards. Javier tugs a strand of hair behind your ear and his fingers roam your face as if he wanted to memorize every edge of it by tact alone. His thumb sweeps over your bottom lip carefully, parting your lips briefly before going to kiss you again. This time he does it slowly, taking his time with your lips prior to sliding his tongue past your teeth and relishing on your taste, almost like he wanted to lose himself in you.

To him, the world meant nothing if you weren’t by his side. And now that you were here, he intended to make the most of it.

His hands are everywhere: your waist, hips, lower back and butt, grabbing every bit of your flesh that he could, keeping you close. So close that it almost seemed like he wished to merge into you. You made out for what it appeared to be hours, until the kisses got sloppier but never less passionate, and you started grinding against him. You hold his shoulders for support, creating that delicious friction between your naked cunt and his stiff boner tucked in his pants. He jolts his hips up, making you release a whimper in his mouth.

He backed off, his lips now scrape your jawline, neck and collarbones. You arch your back when his hand slithers to pull down the zipper of your dress, granting him a better view of your tits close to his face.

“My room?” He asks, biting your earlobe mildly.

“Thought you’d never ask.”

Javi carries you to the bedroom with your legs wrapped around his waist, still finding a way to keep his lips on you in the meantime. Clothes disappear in the blink of an eye and you sit at the end of the sheets to help him take off his pants, kissing his abdomen, your dress now discarded somewhere on the floor.

“Eres preciosa.” The way he says it makes you blush, skin burning under his chocolate gaze. “I’m all yours, mi amor.”

You bring his face close to yours, infatuated with his beauty. “All mine…”

“Yes, corazón.”

You lay down on the mattress, Javier starting to play with your hard nipples, nibbling at them, sucking and kissing with his attention focused on all your reactions. You’re so aroused that you’re quite literally dripping into his sheets, legs trembling from every light stimulation and skin scorching from desire, already spurred on by the make out and giving him head.

“Please, Javi… I- need you inside.”

He wastes no time to compel, maneuvering a hand to your lower back and aligning himself to your entrance, keeping your legs spread. You feel him inside, splitting you open with no previous warning and the tight grip of your cunt feels like homecoming to him. You hold your breath until he bottoms out, enjoying the sweet stretch he provided. Then your whole body quivers, a sheen layer of sweat covering both his golden skin and yours, a couple of curly locks sticking to his temples from it.

You watch him from below through hooded eyes, every inch of him inside you making you feel so full and complete, the outline of his fingers dig in your waist to keep you angled. You bear down on his cock, enveloping him in the warm, welcoming grasp of your body. He holds your hand above your head and leans down to kiss you again, drowning his own moans in your mouth as he draws out slowly to set a pace with his hips, the wet sounds of you pussy and skin clapping against skin sending a thrill of excitement down his spine.

You get it then, as he pours out all sentiment into you, overcome by passion. He is yours. Even though he just said it, only now does it become evident to you. This is Javier’s way of proving it.

He grabs one of your thighs and lifts your knee to the crook of his elbow, the new angle spreading you further open and allowing him to hit deeper. The impact of his tip hitting every right spot relentlessly forces you to break apart from his lips, your head thrown back into his pillows while practically screaming for more, his face nuzzled in your chest as he melts into you.

“Shit baby, I won’t last.” He warns, sinking his teeth to leave a mark between your breasts. You can feel it too, hot shots of ecstasy creeping up the pit of your stomach every time his cock jumps inside you.

You tug at his hair, a strangled moan escaping his lips. “Do it in me- Please, fill me up.”

Your request sends him right to the edge, his thrusts becoming careless as he starts grinding into you, Javi’s fingers quickly finding your swollen clit. The sole touch made you writhe and reach your high in absolute bliss, clenching your walls around him and crying out from raw pleasure. He fucks you through it, overwhelmed by the sensation. You feel dizzy, barely conscious when he finds his own release, your name spilling from his lips like it was the only word he knew, coming in warm spurts inside you. His spend is dripping from your pussy and thighs when he pulls out and sits up to admire the absolute mess he just made of you.

“Well…” he says, guiding his finger to push his seed back into you, making you whine from the overstimulation. “Hope that made it clear.”

You smile, every muscle in your body weeping from exhaustion. “Yeah… I’ll have to make you jealous more often.”

He groans in annoyance and you pull him back on top of you, spreading tender kisses all over his face, laughing in the meantime.

“Not funny.” He grumbles, despite the grin forming on his lips. Javier rolls to your side, coming to lay down next to you and immediately holding you against his sturdy chest, wrapping his arms around your waist to spoon you. “Stay with me.”

His plead is barely a murmur that filters through your ears and you’re too tired to figure out what those words actually mean. You simply let your eyelids drop and retort with a hardly audible ‘always’.

#javier peña #javier pena x reader #javier pena narcos #javier pena x you #javier pena one shot #javier pena x y/n #javier pena fanfiction #javier pena smut #pedro pascal #pedro pascal characters #pedro pascal fanfiction

[drivergemini]

hellfire baby :: e.m.

summary: when starting a new campaign, the hellfire club didn’t except to see a toddler sitting in their club leader’s throne

content warning: parenting & pregnancy, talks about teen parenting, swearing, basically really fluffy, child’s features mostly based off of eddie

word count: 1013

when all of the hellfire boy’s entered through the theater room’s doors, they felt a huge rush of excitement. eddie had been hyping up his new campaign for about a month and told everyone that he was going to do something real special for their first meeting. 

what they did not expect was a small little girl, maybe around 1 or 2 years old, sitting in their dungeon master’s place. she had a pink dragon onesie on and her big brown eyes stared back at the group. 

“why good evening lovely gentlemen.” eddie popped out from behind his throne, holding a small sandwich bag filled with ‘star wars’ cookies. he handed it to the child with barely any acknowledgement and she gladly grabbed it with eager hands. “are you lads ready to start this wonderful campaign?”

each boy had their own looks of confusion on their faces. they looked at eddie and then the child, then back again.

“eddie why the hell is there a baby here?” dustin was the one who spoke up. 

eddie’s face sported a wide grin. “well guys i would like to introduce you to the surprise i mentioned.” he scooped up the little girl and presented her to the d&d club memebers. “everyone this is my daughter mei. say hi mei mei.”

“hi mei mei.” the little voice spoke a she waved a tiny hand to the boys. she tugged her onesie hood down, reveling long, brown hair, just like her dad’s.

“daughter? eddie we didn’t even know you could speak to girls?” mike chimed in.

“well wheeler, if it matters to you, i don’t speak to girls because i already have my fiance.” he raised his eyebrows at the last part. 

you see, eddie munson didn’t become a super-super senior because he was dumb. he became a super-super senior because he accidentally got his high school girlfriend pregnant. they had been together since they were 16. eddie and y/n were going great until the summer before their senior year. y/n’s pregnancy took a large toll to both of their academics, so eddie decided he would try and lighten his girlfriend’s stress load. on april 29th, 1984, their daughter was born. 

he thought y/n’s future was too bright for her to be held back, so after she gave birth he let her continue as an almost normal high school student. eddie didn’t get to graduate that year. but he did get to hold his baby as he watched the love of his life walk the stage. 

he didn’t graduate his second senior year either. he was too caught up in healthy parenting and making sure he was there to watch his daughter’s firsts. he watched her first steps, her first time eating solid foods, and even heard her first word. ‘dragon’.

so here he was, his third senior year, finally ready to walk that stage.

as eddie finished up the story he heard a sniff. all heads turned toward the direction of lucas. 

“dude that story was so beautiful. i didn’t even know that.”

“yeah most people don’t except a few people who were in school during that time like harrington. but y/n kind of chose to drop off the map so it isn’t talked about much.” eddie sat down in his chair and placed his daughter on his lap. “now that introductions are out of the way, shall we get started?”

- 

eddie’s new campaign was centered around exploring an abandoned gem mine to figure out what was terrorizing the near by townsfolk. 

“so little dwarf, you enter the cave with your mates behind you. as you guide them with your light, the air becomes increasingly warm. as you approach the growing heat, you see a shimmer of pink scales.”

“munson you did not...” dustin starts as his hands grip the table.

“you raise your torch higher and you see her in all her glory...” eddie lifts mei off of his lap and places her in the middle of the table. “mei the fire breathing dragon.”

all the boys start to exclaim in frustration. what kind of sick father makes his own kid the first boss of his d&d campaign? eddie munson that’s who. after explaining they all need a time out to discuss, they all huddled in the corner. 

“dude what are we going to do? we can’t slay the dragon. i mean look at her, she’s adorable!” dustin whispered.

“i mean honestly if you think about it, it’s just a game.” mike said. typical.

“yes but the moral principal of it is, eddie knows that we would have to be sick son’s of bitches to kill a kid. especially his daughter.” dustin explained frustrated. 

him and mike felt a little wedge between their legs. they all looked down to see mei still holding her bag of cookies. 

“tooktie?” she raised it up to the air, offering the boys a share of her snack. 

each boy took only one, while politely thanking her for sharing. she unwedged herself from the huddle and waddled towards her dad. 

“juice peas?” she said to him, pointing to a sippy cup sitting on the table. he handed her the cup and looked at the clock on the wall.

“unfortunately boys, time is up for today’s meeting.” eddie tsked. 

just as he said that, y/n opened the door to the club room and walked in scanning around. each person all had their eyes on her.

“mommy!” mei squealed, running towards the young woman. she jumped into her arms, y/n picking her up and spinning her around. 

eddie grabbed a small child lunch box and walked towards the two girls. “as you see i can't stay any later than i’m supposed to tonight guys. but this will give you some more time to think about your next move.”

he trailed behind the two girls, waving everyone goodbye. 

as the door closed, each hellfire member could hear a faint, “eddie why is our daughter talking about slaying a dragon?”

followed by “edward munson why did our daughter just say son of a bitch?”

#eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson angst #eddie munson fluff #stranger things #stranger things fic #stranger things one shot #stranger things 4 #eddie munson my beloved #parenting fic #the baby fever has been real yall #hellfire baby sushihousebread

[anadiasmount]

we’re pretending? - jude bellingham x reader.

quick sum: no date to an upcoming wedding, you use your best friend as last resort. what happens when your best friend isn’t playing pretend anymore and you’re left conflicted with these unusual feelings…

wc: 4.6 k | masterlist | jude’s masterlist

psa 🗣️: i used my og ‘glory box’ fic to get some inspo while writing this fic ngl!! 😣 this was so fun to write not only by the trope but the DRAMAAAA!! like always, hope you enjoy! 🤍

“yes mom, i know. i picked my dress up yesterday, and my flight is booked as well,” you sighed and rolled your eyes knowing she wouldn’t be able to see you through the phone. she knew how important this wedding was but she kept putting the pressure on you. it was the last thing you needed especially after you told her you’d bring someone along.

that someone was now you’re ex-boyfriend. you had less than 48 hours to come up with an excuse or show up alone.

"are you still bringing your plus one?" she asked, the line going silent for a few seconds before she spoke up again. "y/n? are you there?" you should've just lied or said the truth, all you could think of was how happy and super excited she was when you told her you'd met someone and began dating.

"yes mom... we both will be there," you closed your eyes, disappointment in yourself filling the void in your head. you could hear her squeal in the background, telling a voice there with her about the good news. you chewed on your lip anxiously, wanting to cut the call or else you'd break down.

"listen mom, i have t-to go okay? ill call you tomorrow. try not to stress so much," you smiled weakly hearing an "i love you", ending the call after gifting your goodbye. there was no avoiding the mistake you had committed. you wanted to slap some common sense into yourself, because where the hell were you about to find someone?

you clearly remembered the day telling your mom you'd met someone at uni. she was over the moon and wanted to tell everyone but you dismissed the idea, not wanting to rush since you had recently met. you would call her and tell her about him, and she listened so attentively, just like in the movies.

you couldn't bring yourself to tell her when you and max had broken up. your whole life has always been surrounded by being told you needed to be more like your older sister, the pressure of being a golden child laid on you. for once you had something, but that had to get ruined as well.

the scolding, the perfect grades, friends, hell even family. you had to be so careful and live up to their expectations. you loved them, you did, but at times you just felt like moving away was the best idea. and you did just that, the first to move out to a new country, breaking records at uni, and even finding a suitable job.

your boss loved you, and coworkers admired you for the passion and dedication you carried. so why did it have to go all wrong with max? you had an image of him in your head that he was madly in love with you, though you'd later be proven wrong when you found out he was sleeping with his boss. finding them in the act on your 6th month anniversary.

you still can recall the feeling of being unable to breathe, their screams and his pleading going quiet as you could just stare into the room, not once being able to see his eyes. disgust, and rage, but mostly sadness, a heavy heart, and the lump in your throat. he hurt you terribly and you would forever resent that.

after the call, you sat quietly on the couch, hands in your hair as you thought about everything. looking around seeing your bags packed, the blue dress hanging by your room, pictures everywhere. you hated to admit but you were living in a hell, life messy and a disaster. your buzz ringed, seeing through the tiny camera your best friend jude in the frame.

you allowed him in, walking over to the large mirror and wiping away the dry tears, making yourself look more presentable. you looked worn out, eyes droopy and low, lips slightly chapped, and to make matters worse a zit on your chin. you exhaled a breath, keys jiggling as jude came in.

he set his training bag down, took his shoes off, and walked to you, giving you a small hug. "you look terrible," you gave him a warning look, "but lucky you, i brought us food," he spoke cheerfully, the mood inside you going from gloomy to content. "it's raining like crazy, i almost fell coming up. also i brought some packages and your mail," jude continued.

"thank you, i haven't had the time to go down and pick them up! i've been so busy packing and planning last-minute stuff," you groaned, going to the kitchen and washing your hands. "watch, in the next few minutes i'm going to get a call," you theorized. jude pulled out the food and served it into your plates as you grabbed a water for him and a soda for yourself.

"how was training?"

jude shrugged unimpressed, "same old. didn't really have to go in, but they needed me for a small campaign shoot, so i had no choice. also cama and tchou send their hello's."

you and jude spoke amongst yourself. just about each other's days and catching up from the last time you guys were together. you teased him about losing a bet with his little brother, jude whining about how he cheated. new music that came out, and a pop up store that opened lower in downtown.

"so what's got your head in a twist?" jude sipped on his last few ounces of water, leaning his head on his propped-up arm and hand. you awkwardly scratch the back of your neck, pick up the dirty dishes, and walk to the sink. "okay don't make fun of me-"

"you're basically asking me too... also no promises since you just made fun of me for losing against jobe," jude chuckled.

"jude."

"oh it's serious then... what did you do?" he saw the serious look on your face, a small worry constructing in his chest because he rarely saw you like this. you close your eyes, feeling the anxiety build in you once again, "i told my mom i was still bringing max..."

jude scoffed in denial, or trying to cope with the confusion, "y/n, you what?"

"i know! i know! i should've just confessed and coughed up the truth but i- i couldn't! she was so excited jude! i feel terrible for lying believe me i do, but after telling her about him and filling her with hope to break her heart, i just c-c-couldn't," you ramble, dishes clattering as you freaked out.

in your head it didn't seem as bad, but fully saying it out loud to jude, seemed even worse. jude grimaced, knowing you had messed up bad especially since the wedding was right around the corner. "i'm just embarrassed... i know they will start something and just talk down on me if i showed up alone."

jude knew how heavy-handed your family could be, often wanting to resent them because he cared for you so much. he saw how physically and mentally they could rain you even with the smallest sentence. they seemed so worried with their lives instead of the ones they should most value and care for.

jude gave you a concerned face, "what?" chuckling nervously when you gasped out, almost being able to see the lit-up light bulb on top of your head. "jude, I'm a genius!"

"well i beg to differ-"

"shut up," you pat your finger against your chin, a mischievous smile on your lip taunting jude's concern even more. "i don't know why i didn't think of this sooner! why don't you pretend to be my boyfriend? just for the wedding that's it!"

jude shook his head, hands coming up to back out of the idea. it was one thing you lying, but now asking you to play pretend was something totally different. "that's not a good idea y/n..." jude clenched his teeth forcing a smile. "oh cmon why not?"

"well, first of all, that's an even bigger lie to your mom. second, pretending would seem impossible. third, i don't want the first time meeting your parents to be a lie because of what happened," jude defended and stated his case.

"it's a huge favor but you'd save my life jude! one weekend and that's it! you have plenty of suits, you're also off this weekend, and they would never suspect a thing! please jude! i wouldn't be asking if i wasn't so desperate," you begged, seeing the hesitation in his eyes.

"it seems like a bad idea... you don't know what you're asking for y/n... were pretending to be a couple when were not! we have to make it believable even under the pressure of the wedding. a theatrical play, a stunt!" jude exclaimed standing up from his chair.

"jude please, please, please! it might feel weird but it's for the night only! after that, we go back to the good old y/n and jude," you followed him as he paced in your living room thinking of his answer. would it be back to normal even if he continued to feel the same for you? the unknown loving feeling he had for you?

the pretending would be hard when all he could hardly think of was you. how he felt recently and how nervous he got around you. he would do anything for you in a heartbeat, but this would break jude further than now. he couldn't fake pretend holding your hand, or kissing your cheek when he meant and wanted to do that with you currently.

as bad as the idea was, here he was hugging you as you cheerfully yelped when he agreed. time moved slowly for him, the sensation of regret and curiosity as what was yet to come from both of you. all he cared for was to make sure you were happy, and if faking being your boyfriend would help you, he was willing to do it, no matter the consequences.

as jude was fixing his hair, you finished setting your makeup with some powder and setting spray. nerves bubbling in you after the first test you encountered last night after your arrival. you let out a laugh at the tiny bed you had to share with jude. seeing his uneasy face even after he offered to sleep on the couch.

"we're running on schedule," you spoke, finishing clasping your jewelry around your hands and rings. jude came behind you, his shirt unbuttoned and abs in full view, as he finished zipping his pants. best friend or not, there was no denying how incredibly sexy jude was. the name should speak for itself, but with the looks and personality he had, it was too good to be true.

"need some help?" he asked seeing you nod slowly and looking down at your feet. he took the necklace, your skin on fire as his fingertips grazed your skin accidentally, almost jumping on the spot, goosebumps grazing your body. he clasped the necklace, grabbing the pendent and fixing it so it laid in the middle. "perfect," he cockliy smirked.

"thank you."

"are you almost ready?" he looked at you as he buttoned up his shirt, you almost stuttered but regained consciousness, "yes, just need to put my dress and shoes on," you turned back quickly furrowing your brows, wanting to slap yourself for allowing yourself to get carried away, or maybe at the uneasy desire in you when seeing jude.

you went to the bathroom, grabbing the lacy undergarments and the blue dress. the color was to die for, the perfect length even with your heels on, the opened back with the front just showing the perfect amount of cleavage, and the whole dress just accentuating your body even more.

you felt the need to throw some water in your face though you couldn't or else it would ruin your makeup. you settled with fanning yourself with your hand, the tense in your chest getting to you as it was becoming real now. you were just pretending with jude. nothing more right?

you looked in the huge light-up mirror, and suddenly the confidence you had dripped away as you thought of jude in the next room over. why did all of a sudden everything feel like it wasn't before? as in, things changed drastically since the night at your apartment? you've never felt this clumsy or as edgy around him.

when you woke up this morning, with jude on top of you laying peacefully, you couldn't help but feel overjoyed, as if it was a natural state and you've done it before. in your own world where the only thing that mattered was him and you. since then you were slightly freaked out, butterflies in your chest when he left or walk into the room.

jude double taked a look as you walked into the room again. the tiny room that felt like a joke to him after walking in hand to hand last night. his eyes roamed you, lips slightly separated as he admired your beauty, heart hammering in his chest. he watched as you grabbed your cheeks, immediately offering to help.

he leaned down, gently grabbing your foot and placing the white jeweled heel on you. your hands were clamped around the small bench cushions, jude looking up then and there to make sure they felt comfortable. once again, his touch felt like fire, playing with your head even more.

when he finished clasping the heel, he extended his hand helping you up. "you look absolutely gorgeous y/n... this dress was made for you," jude croaked, hearing you laugh shakily. "thank you jude. likewise," jude smiled at your reaction, "i mean as in you look super handsome with the suit, not a dress!" you explained.

"i think i got what you meant..." he joked, his eyes roaming uo and down again at you. "good. good. shall we head out?" you swallowed heavily, grabbing your purse, phone, and other stuff you needed for the night. you were in a rush, wanting to get some fresh air or you would explode in the room with jude inside. "lead the way y/n."

jude helped you in an out of the cab, his hand on your bare back as he guided you to the double doors leading into the reception. "how are you feeling? any nerves?" you spoke quietly to him, looking around as people were taking their seats or had their own conversations.

"some but not too many. like you said, it's just for today," he whispered along your ear, gently giving your shoulder a kiss as his hands went to your hips and walked you forward. your mom and aunt gasped, grabbing their dresses and walking towards you, almost sprinting. "here goes nothing," you say.

"oh my god! so you are real!" your mom yelped, making you give her a glare and eyes pleading not to make a scene. "i was starting to think my sweet y/n was lying to me about this boyfriend she had," you almost choked on your saliva, clearing your throat at her words. "i am y/n's mom, what is your name?"

"i'm jude. it's a pleasure to finally meet you ma'am," jude shook her hand and leaned down to kiss her cheeks in a greeting manner, the same with your aunt. jude's hand interlocked with yours, the happiness in your mother's eyes never leaving, almost tearing up at the sight of you with your "boyfriend."

"i can't believe it! it's a miracle, my daughter finally has her first boyfriend," she clapped her hands making you wretched at her choice of wording. you did everything to have her at least praise you once in life, and all it took was to have a boyfriend? you brushed away the glum feeling, jude kissing your hand, distracting you from the small burn in your eyes.

"oh my! look at them! they make such a beautiful pair," your aunt gleamed. "we do, don't we?" jude teased them, "took her a while to say yes to me, but i'm very fortunate to be here," jude resumed. "we're very pleased to have you here, anything you need don't hesitate to ask."

after saying hello to other family friends and cousins, you sat for the ceremony. jude wiped a small tear away after your old school friend finished her vows, slapping his shoulder when he made a small joke about your mascara running. "its not funny! the vows were so beautiful," you said.

"it's like we are watching me before you again," he said making you gasp. "jude what are talking about? you literally cried with me?" you recalled laughing, jude looking around scared if someone was hearing you. "please don't remind me... in my defense, i didn't see that ending at all."

after the ceremony, you and jude greeted other families, and most importantly congratulated the bride and groom. their faces ushered with happiness, overall content with how their day was turning out. you had to excuse yourself from jude at one point, your mom dragging you away for your help. jude was left behind with your dad.

"since she was little, she always hated getting thrown or dragged around," your father spoke, taking a sip of his whiskey. "seems like nothing had changed?" jude asked carefully with a playful smile. "oh not even close! it's my wife doing," he winked.

"jude right?"

"yes sir," jude nodded, presenting the dad talk coming up. "I'm gonna save the unnecessary talk and get straight to the point. it's so weird to see my baby girl all grown up, with the lusting and loving eyes she gives you. you love her very much and i can see that which is why i'm not worried about you hurting or losing her trust."

hell if jude didn't feel guilty before, he did now. he gripped the glass harder, nodding to your dad who looked upset. "she may have told you some stuff about us, but at the end of the day, she's my daughter and i love her the way she is... please just take good care of her for me... she been through enough as it is..."

"i only have good intentions and i promise you i won't ever break her heart," jude promised to your dad, but also himself. he would never be able to forgive himself if he ever did break your heart or make you lose the trust you had. max did it once and jude would never do it. even if it meant keeping away these long feelings for you.

when you returned you saw them laughing and chatting away, your heart full of emotions at them getting along. jude was so mature for his age, and it didn't come to a surprise when he got along with your dad so fast. his hand would naturally lay on your back or on your hip.

the next few hours were filled with more people dancing or chatting away. jude insisting you sat on his lap for a picture when the photographer passed, smiling wide, looking like a happy couple. it seemed so natural to you, being this close and intimate you were getting scared at how fast everything was being thrown at you.

"i had to see it for myself! y/n bagging a footballer? never saw that coming," your cousin approached you giving you a high as he dabbed up jude. "jude meet my cousin adrian, he's a huge fan of you, and just successfully signed with a small club," you introduced them to each other, with a huge grin on your face.

jude’s hand snuck around your waist, his thumb drawing shapes as his full attention was with your cousin who spoke about sports. you listened then and there, but your feet began to ache, switching your weight back and forth uncomfortably.

jude was quick to notice, leaving down to your level and asking if you were okay. “i’m fine i promise, these shoes are killing me that’s all,” you reassured with a smile, jude nodding before cutting the conversation after a few minutes. “i’m going to get her a chair and drinks for us,” you froze when he kissed your temple, “i’ll see you around later,” jude said his goodbyes dragging you along slowly.

like before, your chest beat faster, if he stared, smiled, even touched or got near you, you’d get nervous immediately. the familiar string of falling for someone filling the empty space left behind inside you. he was super good at pretending and it didn’t feel like that anymore.

it felt real. was he just pretending? or was he actually taking this fake relationship seriously and real?

all you could do was stare at his face, mostly his gorgeous brown eyes as he helped you get seated and served you some water, making sure you were fully okay. he sat next to you, his hand interlocking with his, and placing it on his lap as he paid attention to his surroundings. you become quiet, so into your head and questioning his every move now.

“jude?” you spoke softly, a confused smile on your face as he immediately turned to you with a soften gaze. you inhaled a breath, unable to look away from him, his ínstese state causing you to feel intimidated. “is everything okay?” he asked, leaning slightly over to you, pushing a small string of hair back. “is it supposed to feel like this?”

“what is?” jude shook his head not understanding.

“us? why am i getting the idea we’re no longer pretending…”

jude tore his gaze from yours, the panic growing more intense when he wouldn't reply back. "jude please... don't push me away. are we just pretending or has something changed?" you persisted, your hand gliding against his back to get his attention. jude debated, afraid of losing you right here and now, or having the possibility to maybe hear you feel the same way.

"come with me," jude demanded, helping your and dragging you to the dance floor where no one could really see you besides the other happy couples. his hands circled your waist, as yours went to his shoulders, unable to look away from him. "tell me i'm not the only one who feels it..."

"tell me what you feel y/n... what your head is begging to scream out..."

"i can't, i don't know jude. i'm afraid yet so confused? since we got here yesterday things feel different between us. it happened again when we had breakfast, when you put my necklace on, my heels! all of this is giving me mixed signals jude... i haven't felt this in so long.." you confess, a shaky breath escaping your lips when he pulls you closer and kisses your head.

"like now. i can't if you just did that out of pretending or because it came naturally to you. i've never had to worry about what you think till recently... it feels strange... yet ican't help but get hope that it means real," you rest your forehead on his shoulder blinking away the tears that slowly begin to let out.

jude could see how this was affecting you, holding your lower body with one hand and the other smoothing down your spine, feeling how you immediately let loose and relaxed by his praise and touch. jude could also feel the heavy weight beginning to feel heavier if he kept his true hidden feelings away. it was a sign, and there was no going back.

jude's hand cradled your chin, forcing you to look up at his, his brown eyes gazing over your teary face. he was truly amazed and so in love with you it made his head feel cloudy, almost dizzy, at how perfect and pure you were. his tummy fluttering at his gorgeous girl who was confused at how she felt... but in this moment jude knew you were in deep as well.

"tell me something, when you see me, does it make your heart race, like i'm the only person standing there?" you nod, "does your head tell you one thing but your gut tells you another when you see me?" you nod again, this time blowing the air out of jude's lungs. "my head tells me i shouldn't, but my gut tells me i waited so long that maybe it's now to late for us..."

"why would it be too late y/n...?" you shrug your shoulders. "because i don't you feel the same way i'm feeling." jude smiled weakly, his thumb brushing along your jaw, hearing your hum in delight, "how can you know when you haven't asked me?"

your eyes search his for any sign but you don't find any, "what are you feel in this moment jude?"

"that i'm the luckiest man to be here with you tonight," he says proudly, "that i don't think we've wasted any time, rather i feel we're barely getting started on this new branch of our lives... i can't pretend when i'm with you... because pretending to hide how i feel has been so hard, when all i want is you. all of you y/n..."

"i had to see you go through that idiot max, how he hurt you? when you were hurt i was even more devastated because i couldn't protect you. i'd do anything to make you happy or laugh because it's what i want to do. i want to be the only one who gets to do that. i promised your dad but myself also, ask me what the promise is..." jude insisted.

"what's your promise jude?"

"that i'd never break your heart or give you a reason to doubt me. that from this day forward, i completely will give you my all to care and relish our love once and for all. i'm tired of waiting and holding back of what should've existed and started when i first met you."

"jude-"

"i want to give you my all, to be devoted and in love with you forever. you have no idea what you make me feel, think! i wake up longing for you, at work, at my own home. you're the only girl i want and need in my life y/n," jude confessed, the weight finally lifted of his shoulders, now being able to feel like a free man.

you closed your eyes, breathing out a happy chuckle in relief. you sniffled, "you've ruined me jude, completely ruined me with your words, your confession! look at me, i'm worse than when we finished watching the vow!" you joked, hand nestling on the nape of his next, stroking his soft skin.

"you love me jude?"

"more than what you think."

"i need you to know i'm giving you my all as well. I've always sensed how different what we had was, and come to find out, i was just scared and felt the need to push away because you didn't feel the same way. what i feel for you never happened with who shall not be named..." jude chuckles, closing his eyes and swallowing a heavy gulp like you.

"i'm so hopelessly in love with you jude bellingham... so in love, i want to grow old with you, make every promise we said out loud come true. i knew i loved you as soon as we laid eyes, and you stumbled over your words," jude squinted his eyes, shaking his head embarrassed. "kiss me jude."

jude kissed you exactly how he dreamed. your lips soft and sweet as he imagined, even better. cradling your chin to tilt and pulling the kiss deeper. it felt so right, so amazing, so passionate. he was lost, his tongue entering your parted lips when you let out a small gasp and whimper. there was no more pretending, this was more real than ever.

"could get lost in how you taste. how you feel. i love you so much angel."

#jude bellingham #judey thoughts 5️⃣ #jude bellingham x reader #jude bellingham blurb #jude bellingham imagine #jude bellingham one shot #jude bellingham fanfic #jude bellingham fic #football fanfic #footballer #football x reader #football imagine #football one shot

[allfearstofallto]

Day of the Wedding

Yandere! Genshin Men x Fem! Reader

Ft: Diluc, Childe, Scaramouche

Forced Marriage AU

TW: Yandere Themes, Forced(?) Alcohol Consumption

AN: I checked today and I have 900 followers??? That's actually insane!!! This is what I've got to offer I guess!!

Diluc

Who wouldn't cry tears of joy when marrying the most desired bachelor of Mondstadt? That's what people thought when they saw you dressed from head to toe in pure white, the only thing throwing your princess attire off being your smeared makeup. Your eyes, so red and puffy, had mascara running down your cheeks. Black tears staining your face.

Despite the way you looked, you still forced a smile. It was a small wedding, containing only those close to the both of you, but your family couldn't help, but wonder why you chose to stay close under your newly wed husband, almost seeming afraid to talk to them.

When the vows were spoken, you could barely get the words out. Your voice shaking through sobs as your tears fell upon the page of written notes, eventually making the ink leak and becoming ineligible. You still spoke your I Do’s, followed by him lifting your veil and kissing you right upon your lips. His hand snaked around your waist and the other held your head in place. But you, you stood there stiffly, like kissing him had made you turn into stone.

Diluc pulled away with a smile, his mouth stained with a slight tint of your lipstick. He walked you back down the aisle, with the crowd throwing rice and cheering. On the happiest day of your life where you were supposed to be looking forward ahead of you, you just kept looking back, hoping that your family could see the distress in your eyes, though they never did.

Childe

So many of Childe's siblings and cousins and aunts and uncles came to the wedding, but not a single one of your family members joined you.

“She's not close to her family,” he'd say, holding on to your waist with a threatening hand. That was a lie. You loved your family. You saw them often, at least, you did before the day you abruptly decided to move to Snezhnaya without a word to them. You hadn't seen them since and they didn't know where to send letters, you were essentially a ghost of their past. Your memory haunted them daily as they missed you dearly and you missed them too.

The wedding lasted days and days. A surprise to even you, but apparently that's tradition. Games and singing. There was dancing happening for what felt like hours. And drinking. So so so much drinking. With a feast that spanned almost an entire table, there was an abundance of alcohol to match.

You could hardly keep up with the festivities. In an unfamiliar place with unfamiliar people being wed to a man you thought you knew. Childe wouldn't let you show your discomfort on your face, meeting your lips with a glass of whatever he was drinking, you'd gulp down even more and fall into that drunken dizziness. When the wedding ended, you don't exactly remember. It all became a blur near the end. But you remember waking up to Childe laying you down in bed, placing a kiss on your forehead and whispering words of praise to you that would've been comforting, had it not been for who he was.

Scaramouche

He always adored the way you looked in kimono. Today was no different. The pure white silk draped over your body was by far the nicest one he'd gifted you. Dolled up in traditional make-up, you felt so stiff with your now decadent appearance.

You'd feel less scared if he wasn't still wearing that same glare. That same look of anger and disappointment. Even though it was just the two of you in the room, you him and the officiant who would wed the two of you, he still glared at the man like one mistake would kill him. And it probably would.

Your hand shook as you picked up what looked to be the tea pot, something he made you practice time and time again to prepare just for today. Getting it wrong today would mean facing his wrath later, yet you still shook while pouring it into the small bowl. You watched with a pounding heart as you managed to spill some, dripping onto the floor and sinking between the wood.

Meeting his gaze and preparing for a scolding, you instead saw him lightly chuckle. Seldom did he smile and even more rare than that, did he actually laugh. The sight was even scarier than his usual glares, somehow his joy made him seem even more menacing.

“I expected this much from you,” he whispered into the silence. His nimble fingers gripped the rim of the bowl and he brought it to your lips, making you take a sip of the warm alcohol. It was bitter and disgusting, just as you'd remembered. When you swallowed your sip, he took one right after you, finishing off what was left in the dish, then sitting it to the side again.

Your names were signed onto a piece of parchment, a wedding document written in traditional Inazuma script. You couldn't read a word of it, but there was no worse contract than the one that said you'd be his lawfully wedded wife.

Scaramouche held your hand as the two of you walked out of the shrine, his fingers cold and his grip tight. It was such a beautiful day out. That was all you could think about as you were walked back to his carriage which would take you to his home. Your last day as a truly free woman, you were glad it was beautiful.

#genshin #genshin x reader #genshin impact #yandere genshin #yandere x reader #yandere genshin impact #yandere genshin x reader #yandere x you #yandere headcanons #yandere imagines #yandere childe x reader #yandere childe #yandere diluc x reader #yandere diluc #yandere scaramouche x reader #yandere Scaramouche

[lilywastaken]

⇝ shadow .

Simon "Ghost" Riley x Fem!AFAB!Reader.

PART TWO OF MÉNAGE.

SUMMARY: All Simon wants is to explain his disappearance to you, but he can't really expect you to be willing to listen.

WARNINGS: AFAB!Fem!Reader (no use of Y/N!), Mentions of NSFW, Angst, Pregnancy, mentions of pregnancy complications, Soft!Dad!Simon.

A/N: Second chapter!! Almost exactly a week after the first one LMAO. No smut in this one, I'm afraid, but some very fluffy moments between Simon and Tommy! <333 Once again, please reblog and comment if you enjoy this, it helps a lot!!!

WORD COUNT: 10k.

MASTERLIST.

Also on Ao3!

You were pretty sure your fingers were about to snap.

The grip you had on the door could rival that of a professional arm wrestler, your whole body stiff and frozen in place as your gaze locked onto Simon's.

Was it even Simon? His eyes didn't hold the same warmth it had the last time you'd seen him, his body wasn't as relaxed as it had felt beneath your touch, his whole frame covered in dark clothing that left his eyes as the only source of light that shone through that shadow of a man.

Well, you couldn't even consider them that, his blue orbs lacked that speck of light you'd grown accustomed to seeing in your son's; it left him looking like a ghost, a shell of a man. But maybe that was appropriate, he never did look like the kind of bloke you'd expect to be kind or sweet, he suited more the idea of a cold, ruthless man that had abandoned you and your son.

Even after having spent a night in his arms, felt the touch of his lips on your skin, memorised the feeling of his cock inside of you; he was still a stranger to you, a man you had idolised so much during the first days after your encounter that he had begun to form into someone completely different in your mind.

And now that he was in front of you, you knew. This wasn't the Simon from your dreams that held you in his arms, the Simon from your dreams that pressed kisses to your swollen belly whenever the baby would kick, the Simon from your dreams that hadn't left.

It was like a slap in the face.

One that brought you back to reality, that flushed away any daydream or idealised version you had of him from your mind, and forced you to focus on the man standing in front of you.

"You-"

"Did you keep it?"

As if you'd been sucker punched right in the gut, you felt the air leave your lungs, the words you had intended to speak sitting on the tip of your tongue like the bitter taste of black tea.

"It? Wh-"

"Him. Our son."

Our son.

It was funny, how he'd managed to say the two simple words that immediately made your blood boil in rage, tears forming at the corner of your eyes out of frustration as.

"Oh, so he's our son now?" You willed yourself to keep calm, but you couldn't help how your voice wavered when you spoke, this whole situation baring to be too much to handle along with your already declining mental state. "You didn't seem very interested before."

"I was gone."

"Oh, trust me, I know." You snarled, your harsh tone causing him to look away from you, whether it was in shock or fear, you didn't care. At least you couldn't feel small beneath his stare if he wasn't looking. "How long has it fucking been, Simon? A year. 9 months carrying your child and 3 months raising him. You have no fucking right to come knocking now and asking to see him."

"You don't understa-"

"I don't need to fucking understand, Simon!" You cried out, your voice ringing down the hall and in Ghost's ears, "I was alone! I am alone! I went through a terrifying pregnancy on my own because you couldn't bother to pick up the goddamn phone! Where were you when I needed you!? Where were you when the doctor told me that the birth might leave irreparable damage on my body!? Where were you when I almost lost him!?"

Silence filled the building, dull ringing in Ghost's ears from how loud you'd shouted, his gaze shifting up from the floor to you, his heart skipping a beat at your dishevelled state, your flushed face and tear stained cheeks, the hand that had been resting on the door now clenching your shirt right above your heart, as if the simple act of talking to him pained you to no end.

"I'm sorry."

"Sorry doesn't fucking cut it, Simon. Sorry doesn't make up for this past year, for all the fucking pain I went through while you were, what, ignoring me the whole time!? Waiting until an 'acceptable' time to show up and fucking demand to see him!?"

"I'm not demanding." You flinched as one of his hands came to slam onto the top of the door that separated the both of you, his hand clenching around the wood hard enough to break it, and you knew that if he wanted to, he could. "I'm asking. I'm asking to see him, for you to let me explain why I was gone."

Your lower lip quivered at the way he spoke, so calm and composed compared to you, who'd let your emotions take control of your words and had just

"I don't know what you went through. I don't think I'll ever be able to understand. And.. I'm, I'm sorry, that you were forced to go through it alone," The apology that slipped through his lips sounded almost forced, like it was his first time hearing and speaking the words out of his mouth. "I'm not here just to see him. I'm here because you deserve an explanation on why I wasn't here. And I know it won't take away the pain, but I ho-"

The door slammed shut.

Ghost was left outside of your apartment, hand still testing on the flimsy wood of your door, staring at the point where your eyes had been mere seconds ago.

You'd closed the door on him.

You'd ripped any chances he'd had of seeing his son and explaining himself to you in half.

He'd gone through his speech for hours in the car, making sure that he wouldn't come off as rude or mean to you, that everything was explained slowly and coherently, but you'd just… Closed the door on him.

It was a funny sight, really. A giant of a man standing in the corridor of a beat down building in the middle of Manchester, outwardly looking like a kicked puppy if it weren't for the fire that was burning inside of him, bubbling beneath his skin as he got the urge to rip the whole fucking door off just so would fucking listen to-

The door opened again, properly, this time. No little gap where he could barely see your full body, where you were able to hide from him in fear that he'd do something disastrous like he'd just been thinking of.

You were letting him in.

That much was obvious, by the way your shaking frame was glued to the wall of the small corridor, allowing him space to cross through into the apartment he'd spent the night in a year ago.

No words had to be spoken, the reluctant look on your face telling him more than enough.

The few steps he took to enter your apartment felt like crossing a border to another world, one that he couldn't recognise as much as he tried to think back to the last time he'd been there.

Everything had changed. The wallpaper with the flowers that reminded him of his grandma's old home had been striped, replaced with a more cool paint over; the dingy sofa where he'd ripped your tights open was replaced with a much more softer and plush looking model, one that could no doubt be pulled into a bed; the bookshelf he'd gotten the sticky notes from had been ridden of many of the books that had littered it, replaced with children's books and a few pictures, baby toys strewn across the floor in front of it.

It felt like a whole different place than what he remembered. He didn't know what he had expected, for you to have a child and for nothing to change? He was aware of the chaos that a child brought, remembering how annoyed he himself had been as everything started to change around him when his brother had been born, the need it brought to rearrange the whole house to accommodate the baby and not have any dangerous items lying around.

Ghost made a mental note to himself as he picked up one of the picture frames from next to the small telly to clean up his own house before bringing his son there (if he was even allowed to), recalling the dust and grime that covered the corners of his rooms, the glass shards from the last time he'd drunk and passed out on the sofa littering his floors.

You pushed the door closed behind you both, shaky hands pressing onto the cool wood in an attempt to ground yourself, trying not to focus on the silent yet imposing footsteps of your son's father.

You don't know what possessed you to open the door, to let him into your space, that he'd now taken over like a shadow. He looked so… out of place.

A demon along the angels, a ghost along the living.

His dark clothes contrasted heavily with the bright colours of your son's toys that laid strewn across the floor, with the soft colours your walls were painted in, with the colourful blankets that you'd tried spicing up the sofa with, despite no one being able to appreciate them other than you.

It didn't feel right.

It didn't feel right to have him here, walking around your home like he belonged there, like he'd been there all along. It was wrong.

You felt like you couldn't breathe, like your throat was closing off and preventing any air from reaching your lungs properly. Your nails dug into your own palms as you clenched your hands closed, trying your best to even out your breathing and focus on anything but the impending conversation you'd have to have with him.

You could hear him say something, but your brain was so caught up with trying to stop yourself from spiralling that it didn't even comprehend what he was saying. The balaclava over his face was moving, indicating that he was speaking, but not a single sound was reaching your ears.

Your body was trembling at this point, mouth gasping for air as your throat continued to constrict, your eyes going blurry with tears as you watched him come closer to you, mouth still moving.

"Breathe." Two hard hands grabbed onto your shoulders, shaking you out of your stupor bordering on what you could easily identify as a panic attack, ones that you'd been prone to ever since you gave birth. "Look at me. Breathe."

Simon immediately knew what was happening without even having to look at you.

The laboured breaths that were leaving you were enough to activate the alarms in his head, recognising them immediately. He'd heard them many times before coming from him, his teammates, the people whose heads were pressed against his gun. You were spiralling, falling into the harming grasp of your anxiety and letting it infect your body.

When he got a panic attack, Simon rode through it. The therapist that Price had assigned him a few years ago had advised him to consider doing breathing exercises whenever he showed signs of having one, but during the year he'd seen her and the years to come, not once had he considered doing them. Sometimes, he felt like he deserved to feel like that, like he was suffocating, like his heart was about to be ripped out; for all the pain and suffering he'd inflicted on others, he deserved to feel at least a sliver of it.

But the thought of letting you experience that same pain, the same panic, the same hopelessness he felt whenever he'd cave into his depression, it wasn't a good one.

So despite his initial lack of remembrance of the exercises his therapist had offered, he tried his best to talk you through it, hands grasping at your shoulders and squeezing every time he saw you start to slip away back into that pit of anxiety, keeping his eyes on yours through the whole thing, not letting you go until you'd stopped shaking and your breath had become even once again.

You'd been so focused on the anxiety coursing through your veins that you hadn't even realised who was helping you through it, blindlessly following orders and breathing along with him, your brain subconsciously recognising his voice as something to cling onto, to pull you out of your own plunging thoughts.

But as soon as you realised whose eyes you were gazing into, whose hands were holding you down, you panicked again. Your own hands came up to push him away, the action catching him off guard and making him take a few small steps back from you, eyes still fixed on yours.

"Are y-"

"Shut up." You breathed out, interrupting him for what seemed like the 100th time that night, mimicking him and taking a few steps away from him and wrapping your arms over your upper body. "Sit."

Ghost finally tore his stare away from you to look down at the sofa, hesitantly taking the first steps forward like a cat meeting its owner for the first time before finally taking a seat on the sofa, sinking into the plush pillows thanks to his weight and looking around from the new perspective.

"Do you normally have panic attacks?" He spoke up, thankful that you didn't interrupt him this time, voicing his concern.

You bit the inside of your cheek, looking down at your fuzzy socks as you thought back to all the times you'd had to go through them on your own sitting at the doctor's office, lying in bed after putting Tommy to sleep, looking at yourself in the mirror after your labour…

Your doctor had warned you about the rollercoaster of emotions your body would go through after giving birth, including the depression many women suffered that unfortunately had affected you too during the first few weeks; but you hadn't expected it to continue until this late.

"...sometimes." You mumbled, hands running up and down your arms as you squirmed beneath his glare. "It's normal. For a lot of women."

He didn't answer, nodding in response instead before turning his head to the side table, where a small picture of a very tiny Tommy sat, his hand itching towards it to take it in properly.

The silence that followed what you could barely call a conversation was unbearable. The tension that hung in the room was thick enough to cut with a knife, the silence almost suffocating you as you tried to muster up the courage to speak up if he wasn't going to, despite him having almost broken down your door in order to talk.

"...so? Are you going to explain?"

Simon stayed quiet, the whole speech he'd rehearsed back in his car suddenly fizzing away from his mind like a shooting star in the night sky. He was left with barely an outline of what he wanted to say, a vague idea of everything he'd tried his best to put into words before seeing you.

But actually having you in front of him, sitting on the same sofa he'd once pressed you against, gazing into the eyes he'd once thought so much about before the start of that god awful mission, made every last thread of sanity that remained in him snapped.

He was sure that without the mask he'd look like a fool, mouth slightly open and half lidded slate blue eyes fluttering with every blink, transfixed by the vision that was you, in front of him.

"Look, if you're not even going to fucking talk, you can just go right back out the fu-"

"I can't tell you exactly what happened." You stopped mid-rant, cheeks burning in embarrassment after being the one who was interrupted this time. "My job doesn't allow it."

His job? Was he really blaming everything on his job? What kind of goddamn profession forced you to go radio silent for a whole year?

"What do you work in?"

"..." Simon regarded you with a poignant sheen in his eyes, clearly at odds with deciding what to say, the truth or what he had been taught to recite in a situation like this. "I protect."

Even if he didn't outright say what his vocation was, you could do more than assume.

Protection could mean many things, like working at one of those security alarm companies to working as a bodyguard for some fancy rich guy, but with one look at the man sitting in front of you, you could tell.

And it was terrifying.

You'd assumed he was some type of bodybuilder when you'd first saw him, but as you recalled his tactical steps as he walked you down the street, the way his hand flew to his belt when you'd pass some creepy looking guy, as if he was expecting something to be hanging from there, it all started to click.

You had two options before you. He was either a fucking mercenary or military. And although both options were terrifying on their own, you hoped to whatever god that was looking down on you that it was the latter. You wouldn't know what you'd do with yourself if the father of your sweet baby boy was some type of criminal.

"You protect?" You let out, careful with your words in case you said something that you shouldn't, terrified with the prospect of him getting annoyed or angry now that you had an idea of what he did for a living.

"I protect." He parroted, lifting his hand to shove it into one of the pockets that adorned his jacket, pulling out a slim laminated piece of paper, what you could only assume was some sort of identification. "Here."

You took it hesitantly, flipping it over to scan your eyes over the confusing words that lettered the ID, mostly all words you'd never heard before in your life, but you were smart enough to grasp the concept of it.

"You work in the army?" You question, finger running over his title, repeating his newly discovered last name in your head, cursing at yourself for even thinking of how normal it would sound led by your son's name.

"SAS. Lieutenant. Can't say more than that." His gloved hand came back up to hopefully grab his ID back, but you dodged him, taking a few steps back and flipping it back over so he could see what you were pointing at.

"There's no picture." You finally referred to the black space that filled what was supposed to be a headshot of whichever soldier's ID it was. "How… how do I know this is real?"

You watched the mask move as he furrowed his eyebrows, the hand that had fallen onto his knee now gripped at the cargo pants, his eyes showing the disbelief that shot through his body.

"Y'think I made a fuckin' fake ID?" He grunted out, lifting himself from his spot on the sofa and glowering down at you, who did your best to not stand down almost immediately out of fear of his massive frame. "I don't carry 'round a picture of my face, defeats the whole purpose of my fuckin' mask."

You bit the inside of your cheek as you tried coming up with some type of rebuttal that would shut him right up, but you ended up once again asking another desperate question.

"That doesn't explain why you were gone."

Silence.

The crickets that sang from downstairs, the sound of the creaking from upstairs with every step one of your neighbours took, the suddenly suffocating feeling of your tiny apartment, everything seemed to increase ten fold with every second that passed.

"I can't tell you much." He leaned his head back, twisting his neck to a side to reveal some of the hair that had grown down to below his chin after a year of not properly shaving, making you look away from what almost seemed like an invasion of privacy.

"Oh, fuck you." You let out an amused scoff, unbelieving that still after everything that had happened in the short amount of time he'd been back, he still refused to say anything. "Go to hell, Simon."

"I was on a fuckin' mission. A long one. I wasn't allowed any devices, like always, so I couldn't get back to you." He looked back at you with a glare that easily rivalled yours, voice rising in volume with each word he spoke, clearly pissed off at how you were acting with him despite having tried to explain himself, but deep down he knew that it was expected from you after what you'd gone through, yet he still couldn't help but feel disappointed deep down.

"Don't raise your fucking voice at me, I'm not the one who's at blame here, Simon!" You shoved a finger into his stiff chest, doing barely as much 'damage' as you pretended to, but you did your best to get your point across.

"I'm not raising my vo-"

A high pitched cry cut through both of your raising voices, Simon's hand immediately going to his belt out of instinct while you whipped your head in the direction of Tommy's room, wincing in both fatigue and shame for having forgotten about your poor, sensitive to noises baby boy.

You put a finger up before Simon could even get the idea of heading there first, an authoritative glare on your face as you grew 10 times braver now that it came to your son's mood and well-being.

"Stay." You hissed, almost like you were reprimanding a mutt instead of a grown man. "Don't fucking follow me."

Once you were sure you'd gotten the message across, you pulled yourself away from his gaze and quickly entered your son's nursery, cooing and shushing at him as you neared his crib.

"Hey, hey, it's okay, duck, I'm sorry." You whispered, carefully picking up his fidgeting body in your arms and pressing him to your chest, rocking him as gently as you could in your told. "Mommy's sorry, she didn't mean to scare you."

His crying didn't cease, only getting louder as you desperately tried to get him to quiet down, terrified of the racket he was no doubt making for the next door neighbours, who'd probably come by tomorrow with some not very nice words.

Your hands were shaking as he still didn't calm down, a shiver running up your spine while goosebumps racked your body as you saw the light that came from the living room be blocked by a large mass of what you could only assume was Simon.

"I told you not to follow." You kept your voice small as he took slow steps towards you, not wanting to agitate Tommy even more than he already was, knowing how enervated you'd be in the morning if that was the case.

"I want to see him."

You bit down on your tongue before you shot out a snappy response, realising that this was not the time nor the place for snarky comments, as much as you wanted Simon to finally get a hint and leave you both alone.

"You haven't even told me his name."

Screwing your eyes closed, you pressed Tommy to your chest a bit tighter, both to calm the two of you down and in an attempt of caging him away from the shadow of a man towering behind you.

"You never asked for it." You felt him stop behind you as you spoke, his eyes staring holes into the back of your head, as if that would finally get you to move so he could see his son.

He stayed silent once again, looking over every single detail in the nursery, from the row of knitted stuffed animals to the plastic fluorescent stars stuck to the ceiling above the crib, eyes trailing over the bookcase that looked a bit too unstable for his liking, the screws too loose to be holding up all that weight properly.

"Did you build these yourself?" Simon watched you turn your head over your shoulder to see what he was referring to, glowering at him crossly as you looked over the furniture.

"Didn't have anyone else to do it, did I?" You snapped, going back to the crying baby in your arms as he continued to look around, gloved fingers running over some of the spines of the books that laid on the shelves, recognising some of them from his own childhood bookshelf.

"You still don't believe me, d'you?"

A beat.

The finalising sound of his footsteps exiting the room made a weight you hadn't realised was pressing on your chest dissipate out of relief, only to come back heavier than ever as he pushed the duffle bag he'd been carrying towards you with his foot.

You looked down at the spilling contents tentatively, almost worried that there was some type of danger in there that would force you to take cover or cower in a corner, but all you found were military pants and clothes, a gun hidden in its holster, and in the hand that slowly appeared in the corner of your vision, dog tags.

"Look." He brought them up closer to your face so you'd be able to see even in the dim lighting that came from the fluorescent stars stuck on the ceiling and the small nightlight, the name engraved in it identical to the one you'd found on the ID. And although most IDs were pretty easy to fake, you were pretty sure dog tags like these weren't. They had the SAS' inscription on them along with a few codes and numbers you were too ignorant about the army to understand; but for all you knew, they could be as fake as the ones some men wore as fashion.

Maybe that still wouldn't have been enough, if it weren't for the gun. England was very strict with gun laws, and the only people you'd ever seen handle one were the police and the military. So he'd either gotten one very illegally or was truly who he said he was.

And as much as you wanted it to all be fake, for him to be the random bloke you'd had sex with that had no connections to anything dangerous, you knew it wasn't. It was blatantly obvious now that he'd laid down everything in front of you like a puzzle, he was telling the truth.

And god, how much you hated it. You hated that the so-called excuse he'd used before was close to being set in stone by now, that everything was falling into place.

"They're real. I promise."

His promises meant nothing to you, and he knew that, but he had to try anything he could for you to finally believe him, to pull down the walls you'd built and let him in.

"..." You looked away from him and his outstretched hand, pulling your still weeping baby closer to you as you debated on what to do, mind torn between two headspaces.

A shaky sight left your lips as he finally started to tone down, his small pudgy hands grabbing at your sweater in an attempt to ground himself, to find a smell and feel he knew brought safety.

"...his name's Tommy."

You felt him freeze behind you, the aura around him growing cold almost immediately, like you'd just blatantly insulted him without any remorse.

"Tommy." He echoed, voice scratchy as if he was dying of thirst, body suddenly feeling like it had been dunked under tiding waves. "Why?"

"Why?" It was your turn to repeat what he'd said, turning around fully and allowing him the first proper look at his infant son.

Any feeling of displeasure or uncomfort left Simon's body as his eyes landed on the small boy whose teary eyes were trained on his mother's, soft hands clinging onto her like all hell would break loose if he weren't, pudgy body wrapped up in soft blanket decorated with a tiny duck print, the animal something he'd heard you refer to him as before.

God, he wasn't even listening anymore, too enamoured with the small being that lied in your arms, his hands itching towards him in hopes of taking him in his own.

His stomach sank as you stepped back in tandem with him, shielding Tommy from him like he was a monster.

"I, uhm…" you looked up at him through glassy eyes, clearly having been taken aback by his sudden advance towards you both, ending with you pressed against the wooden crib's side. "I didn't really think about it. It just… felt right. It sounded nice. There isn't really any… meaning behind it, as far as I know."

And that was true, as far as you knew, Tommy was just one of the names you'd underlined in one of the many baby name books your mother had brought over with her. But for Simon, it was oh so much more than that. It brought back memories that he hadn't thought about in a very long time, including those rough times he'd spent cooped up in that godforsaken house trying his best to take care of the only family he had left.

And although he hadn't heard from his brother in a long while, he couldn't help but feel slightly hollow at the simple thought of him, who now unknowingly shared his name with his new nephew.

"...right." Despite everything that was whirling around in his brain, every single memory and doubt he wished he could share without destroying himself inside out, that single word of confirmation was the only thing he could get out.

Tommy let out a whine, small hand tugging at your shirt as he instantly pulled your attention back to him, small body fidgeting in your hold in a way that would make you drop him if you weren't used to his urge to not stay still.

"Yeah, I get it, duck." You said, balancing him carefully in the crook of one of your arms before picking up the half-empty bottle you'd placed next to the crib, knowing he'd wake up within the little time the milk could sit out and demand to be fed with his startling cries. "It's here, don't worry. You're not going to starve."

Simon watched from the shadows as your son immediately latched on to the bottle, acting like he'd been starved for over a week, when his last feeding session had been barely an hour ago.

"He's very greedy." You mumbled, mostly to yourself, but looked up at Simon as he let out a humoured exhale.

"Most babies are." He said, remembering how needy his own little brother was when it came to feeding, whining and screaming until everyone in the house had woken up.

Silence fell upon the room, the only conceivable sound in the house being the sound of Tommy drinking and the soft jingle of the crib mobile whenever a soft gust of wind came through the parted window.

For the first time in the hour Simon had been back in your life, you felt calm. Your heartbeat had come down to a normal rate, your body had stopped jolting and shaking every now and then, and there was a small smile tugging at your lips as you watched your son cling to the bottle in your hands.

Even Simon's presence had stopped putting you on edge, since now he was just silently gazing down at his son, who's eyes were fixed back on his father's, almost like they were both having a staring contest, and it was unclear who was about to win.

Tommy normally bursted into tears when he was near a stranger, too many new scents and sounds around him since he was used to the calmer and soother environment that was his nursery, so apart from the short strolls you'd take down the streets, he barely went out with you, and when he did, he didn't get to met many new people. You remember how embarrassed you'd been when one of your neighbours had come by to help with fixing a light and Tommy had started bawling at the mere sight of the unfamiliar man standing in the doorway.

So it was a bittersweet surprise when you realised he must've taken an instinctual liking to his father, despite not properly having the brain capacity to regard him as such, and although you'd have plenty of time to go over that later, for now, you were relieved that he hadn't turned to wailing as loud as he could and bursting all three of your eardrums (although if Simon did work in what he said he did, you were sure he'd be used to loud noises by now).

"How d'you pay for all this?"

"What?" You said, the calm expression that had graced your face quickly forming back into the pissed one he'd gotten so used to seeing in the past hour, the innocent yet aggravating question instantly spoiling your mood. "What do you fu- what do you mean?"

"The furniture, the clothes, the nappies." He nodded towards every single thing he listed, only adding onto your annoyance even more. "Where d'you work?"

You snapped your head down to Tommy in order to avoid his damaging questions, meeting the cute scene of your son fast asleep, probably having passed out after such a long staring contest with his dad and finally having a full belly. You ignored the weight of your impending answer as you placed him down carefully back into his crib, letting his chubby cling onto your fingers for a bit before slowly wrenching his grip off, turning back around to his father.

"I don't work. Not anymore." You kept your voice hushed, picking up the empty baby bottle along with a bag of dirty nappies, standing next to the doorway until he got the memo to walk out before you. "Got fired from the bar cause I was too distracted and I messed a lot of things up…. Had to use my savings to pay for everything during my pregnancy."

He watched you walk around the kitchen and put everything away like it was routine, like it was some sort of art that you'd perfected, while thinking over the information he'd just received from you.

He felt horrible. The mere thought of you, pregnant and alone with no job able to support you, working on the crib and nursery on your own was enough to tear his cold heart in two. And he didn't even want to think about how much money you had left, which by the sight of the very expensive-looking cot and all the toys that laid strewn across the bedroom floor, wasn't much.

He crossed his arms over his chest as he leaned back onto one of the walls and thought about the next words that were going to leave his mouth, the next words that would either end up with you both growing closer together or you continuing to push him away.

"Let me help you."

You stopped dead in your tracks while rearranging one of the cupboards, turning around with a look of disbelief painted on your face, beyond bewildered at what he was even starting to proffer.

"Help me?"

Simon had more money than he knew what to do with. Albeit, a small part of it was sent to his brother and his family at the end of every few months, he was still left with a huge amount of money he didn't really know what to spend it on apart from on the bottles of alcohol that littered the floor of his apartment.

But now that he'd learned about his own family, seen the state your flat was in despite you trying to save face by decorating it as much as you could, about as much information as you had given out about your financial situation, he finally knew what to do with all that money that was left over.

"Help you. Financially. Tommy's my son too." Simon raised a gloved hand up as he watched your mouth open, immediately shutting you up like a teacher would a student. "As much as you want to deny it, s'true. And I'm going to help you." His finger landed on the small island counter, accentuating his point with every word he spoke. "Whether you like it or not."

Now, you'd be bellow stupid to even refuse an offer like this (even though he'd made it quite clear it wasn't an offer, more like an insistence), especially since your bank account was quickly reaching negative numbers with every day that passed, not a lot of jobs being open to a new mother who'd either have to take her baby everywhere or leave between shifts to take care of him (and a nanny was of course out of the question, with what money would you pay them?); and pushing aside your still initial distrust towards him, you couldn't say no to him. Both, because he wouldn't let you and because you needed the help, as much as you didn't want to admit it.

Very deep down, you wanted to say no, to push him out of the flat like you should've done when he had first taken a step inside, that he'd had his chance with both Tommy and you and that his bloody stupid excuses weren't going to work… but god, would you have been a moron to even consider letting those words leave your mouth.

You closed the cabinet shut, turning around to face him properly despite the absolute nerves that were coursing through your body, looking out the window across from you instead of at the imposing figure of the man standing before you.

"Simon, I… Look, just…." You tried changing subject, grasping at straws in order to keep yourself from falling to your knees and thanking him for helping you, to break down again like you'd done within the first quarter hour of seeing him again. "...thank you."

He didn't reply, only nodding in response as he turned away from you, letting you stare at his back as he cocked his head to a side to subtly look into Tommy's room, your small baby boy still fast asleep with his clingy hands holding onto one of the many toys you'd placed in there for him to stay entertained with.

"It's, uhm… it's getting quite late." You pointed out as you looked back out the window, rain pattering against your window as another one of England's classic showers hit your city, your arms wrapping around your torso and running your hands up and down the exposed skin. "How about we just… call it a day and talk about it tomorrow?"

Simon grunted, shrugging his shoulders like he really didn't care, but before you had chance to comment on it, he spoke over his shoulder, his head tilted in a way that the shadows curved around the balaclava covering up his face, his blue eyes slightly brighter than when he'd first shown up.

"I've got some stuff to attend to tomorrow." He muttered, nodding towards the duffle bag that he'd brought out with him when you'd both left the nursery, indicating that he wasn't fully finished with work. "It'll be a while 'till I'm able to just sit down with you."

God, you hated how much fear that single sentence struck in you. Like almost the thought of him leaving for more than a day after finally showing up and explaining everything to you was enough to raise up the anxiety that wrapped around your chest and travelled across every single nerve in your system.

So fucking pathetic. You thought to yourself before looking over at the sofa, the new one you'd bough and arranged yourself a few months into your pregnancy, when you were barely showing and could still handle physical work like that; remembering how much the salesman had insisted on that the pullout was the best option for when you had guests over, it was moderately comfy and big enough to fit up to two people.

And Simon kind of… He kind of counted for two people, right? With that bloody stature of his and his darned accentuated muscles you'd been so in awe of that fateful night.

"You can just take the sofa for tonight. Then we can talk in the morning before you leave." Your mouth acted faster than your brain did, but this time, you didn't really feel embarrassed or disappointed in yourself, I mean, it was the logical solution to this sort of problem. He'd made it quite clear that he wanted to be in his son's life, so if that was true, you'd have to get used to him being around you, invading the safe space you'd worked so hard to create for you and your son, as much as it tore your body and mind apart thanks to your mixed feelings about him.

"You sure?" He pushed himself off the doorframe which he'd been leaning on, getting back to his full height so he could tower over you, glancing at the tiny sofa. "You think I'll fit?"

"It pulls out." Unlike you. "You'll fit."

Once again, it seemed that he couldn't even get the words out to thank you, nodding in response before turning back to look at his sleeping son in the nursery's background. You pushed past him to get to the cupboard that sat in the corner, rummaging through it for some relatively clean and warm blankets, keeping an ear out just in case decided to walk a bit too close to Tommy, still a bit on edge when it came to him spending time around your son.

"D'you have a balcony I can use?" He cut through the silence, dangling a packet of cigarettes in front of your face to make his advances clear.

Although you weren't a chronic smoker yourself, you had indulged in a cig once in a while, and you knew that it sometimes did help soothe your anxiety or stress, and by the looks of how Simon was fidgeting in his spot and his fingers were clearly itching towards the lighter in his pocket, it was quite clear he was in need of one.

"I don't. Use the window furthest from Tommy's room." You pointed out of the room towards the window you'd been staring out of before. You watched him stroll out, opening up the window and letting in a gust of cold wind in the process, making you speed up your work so you could close the door faster and Tommy wouldn't get a chill.

"You can't smoke around Tommy, you know that, right? If you're really going to be in his life, I'm going to need you to quit while you're here." You commented as you placed down the blankets onto an armchair before moving onto the sofa bed itself, removing some of the cushions before resuming.

"'lright." He muttered between a few inhales of the smoke, his voice much clearer now that he'd pulled his mask up to his nose, letting you gaze upon the beard that had grown over his lower face, something that hadn't been there before. But you assumed that a year-long mission wouldn't really allow you to take time to shave. "Jus' really needed this."

"I get it." You grunted as you grabbed onto the flimsy handle at the bottom and pulled out the second part of the sofa's mattress, almost landing on your behind if it weren't for one of Simon's hands on the small of your back, helping you regain your balance before he went back to taking puffs of his cigarette next to the window.

Soon enough, Simon's cigarette burnt down to a stub, flicking it out the window and down onto the concrete below, turning back around to where you were finishing up what would be his bed tonight, tucking in some of the ends of the sheets and stuffing pillows into covers.

"Here." He spoke, his voice back to being muffled as he pulled the mask back down, taking the pillow from your hands and pushing it into the cover without any effort.

"Pillows might be a bit stiff. These are really old." You didn't even bother thanking him, taking the pillows and fluffing them up to the best of your ability, before propping them up on the armrest. "Do you want to, uhm." You gestured towards the black smudged paint around his eyes. "Clean up?"

"It's fine. I've slept worse."

He started to pull off his jacket, his shirt going with it for a moment and exposing his midriff and happy trail, immediately snapping your head away from the sight.

That's how Simon ended lying on the pretty well made sofa, shoes and jacket discarded next to him with a thin blanket draped over his tired body, balaclava still resting over his face despite being plunged in the darkness that was broken whenever a car passed by outside or by the soft glow of his son's fluorescent stars that decorated his ceiling.

Simon was aware of how long he'd gone without having a good night's sleep, that he should at least try to catch a few minutes of sleep at best, but he couldn't find the energy to even close his eyes. He knew that after such a long and exciting mission his body had to come down from it slowly, taking a few days of getting used to the sudden serenity that enveloped him before he could fully relax and find some sleep.

And so he lied there, staring up at the cracks in the ceiling and listening to the snores that came from his son's room and the shuffling and incoherent murmurs that came from yours, the constant affirmation that you both were fine enough of a substitute for the sleep he was missing.

And he was… content like that, for a while. Listening to the both of you sleep and tapping his fingers against his chest in an attempt to ground himself and to shove away any unwanted thoughts that would forcibly make their way into his already broken mind.

Until one of the cars outside backfired, a sound Simon had gotten used to after driving all those barely working cars they'd find in the way during missions, producing a sound that echoed throughout the living room, making Simon instinctively flinch, his fingers gripping down on the blanket hard enough to rip it, not having expected to hear a sound so akin to a bomb or a grenade while he was lying down calmly near his newfound family.

Fuck, he was pathetic. It was horrible how such an innocent sound made his instincts go haywire, his skin prickle with goosebumps and his heart skip a beat.

But clearly, as Tommy's cries rang out through the flat, he hadn't been the only one to be disturbed.

"Fuck." The blanket pooled down onto the floor next to his discarded clothes, pushing himself off the sofa and passing by your bedroom, where you were still presumably sleeping, your body wriggling beneath the covers as your brain attempted to keep you asleep.

You'd mentioned that Tommy had gone down easily this time, so it was relatively early for yourself to go to bed, and he'd heard you mutter to yourself as you climbed into bed that you were going to enjoy your rest, so staying on the sofa and waiting for you to wake up, was not going to happen, especially after all the trouble he'd gone through with convincing you to let him in Tommy's life.

This was part of being a father, a parent, waking up at ungodly hours of the night to take care of your fussing baby.

He carefully made his way towards Tommy's crib, removing his gloves in order to not scare him with an unknown touch, although he doubted that his calloused fingers would be any better substitute.

"S'alright." He murmured, a finger softly prodding at his chubby belly in order to catch his attention, the boy's wails only getting louder as he caught sight of his father's skulled balaclava. "Oh, fu- Look, hey, look at me."

Without any hesitation, Simon ripped off his mask, his hair getting messed up in the process but he couldn't care less, only focused on getting his son to recognise him as a human man and not the goddamn grim reaper who'd come for him.

Tommy sniffled as he toned down the fussing, blue eyes darting all over his father's face as if committing it to memory, chubby fingers leaning down to grab at the one Simon had woken him up with, and much like he did with any other thing he found lying around, shoved it right in his mouth, drooling around it.

A breathless chuckle escaped Simon's mouth as he watched him roll and fuss around his finger, resting his other arm on the crib and lying his head against it, transfixed with the sight of his small son.

A few tears were still running down his chubby cheeks, but he seemed to have calmed down now, Simon's finger acting like some sort of replacement for the pacifier that laid abandoned next to him.

"C'mon. Stop cryin'." He grumbled, pulling his finger out of his grasp and placing his large hands beneath Tommy's small body, carefully picking him up (making sure to support his little head like he'd seen you do) and propping him up in the crook of his arm, letting him squirm around for a bit until he found the perfect position. "You're a wriggly one aren't you?"

As expected, he didn't get any response apart from the thousand yard stare his son looked up at him with, similar to the one he occasionally gave Johnny to watch him freak out. Now that he did look at him closely, he could pinpoint how many features he'd inherited from his father's side, his shaggy hair, his blue eyes, his slightly crooked nose, even the chubby rolls and fingers he remembered seeing in his little brother.

"That's a boy." Tommy's eyes started to droop with every second he spent lying in his father's arms, his tears drying out and coos leaving his mouth instead of the agonising cries. "Feelin' better?"

He blindly walked over to the small chair he'd spotted in the corner of the room when he'd first walked in, grunting like his grandfather did as he sat down, careful to not squish or drop Tommy in the process, his hands tightening around him as the chair slightly reclined, the chair's feature catching him off guard and instantly activating the instinct to protect the small human in his arms that depended on him.

But Tommy didn't even flinch, giggling at the warmth that enveloped him and snuggling further into the blanket and his father's arms in the process, eyes still fixed on the dark paint that adorned his father's.

Finally, after their second staring match of the night, Tommy's eyelids finally closed, losing the battle and falling prey to sleep, something Simon silently wished he could too. Resting him in one arm, he pulled his balaclava back down, feeling a bit too exposed now that the need to have it off had ceased. He leaned his head back on the rest and stared up at the dim glowing stars, focusing on the steady breaths that racked his son's tiny body and the faint feeling of his heartbeat against his arm.

He could… he could really get used to this.

Having such a small thing in his arms, something he was responsible for, something he was supposed to love and care for, a purpose to continue the dangerous life he'd thrusted himself in. He was a father now. And although he knew barely nothing about being one, he'd learn. He hoped it wasn't a one time thing and that Tommy had truly taken a liking to him, that he was going to be able to take at least a bit off the load that you carried by helping in whatever way he could, whether it was bonding with his on or simply financially if that's all you wished of him.

He was a bit too lost in his thoughts as he reclined further in the plush chair, pressing Tommy to his chest so he was half lying on him, half still resting in his arms, a pretty comfortable position for the both of them.

"-mon."

"Simon!"

The blond was jolted awake by a pair of hands shaking him, his immediate instinct being to search around for the baby he remembered falling asleep with, blurry vision darting around to find him cooing and gurgling in your arms, hands latched onto your sleep shirt.

He turned to look out the window while cracking his neck, disoriented and confused about what time it was, the subtle sun rays that shone through the clouds and into the nursery telling him enough.

Had he fallen asleep? Like, actually slept for over an hour without waking up or any disturbances?

"'m sorry." His voice was deeper after a good night's rest, you noted as he rubbed his eyes with the bottom of his palm in an attempt to clear the blurriness, choosing to ignore the click of your tongue against the roof of your mouth. "Time?"

"'bout eight." You said, bouncing Tommy in your arms as you nodded towards the clock that hung up above him, eyes darting back down to see him hunched over, hands beneath his balaclava rubbing away the sleep in his eyes and no doubt spreading the face paint everywhere. "Tommy needs to have breakfast so I just assumed you'd want to be woken up as well. But, you're, uhm, welcome to sleep longer, I guess."

"No, I'm fine. I have to get up." Within a second, he was at his feet, Tommy staring up at him in awe as if he were gazing upon a giant, one of his chubby hands leaving your shirt to try and grab onto his, but Simon had left before he could even make first contact.

"You stayed here to talk, remember?" You said snappily at him as you followed, watching him pick up all his stuff. "We should talk."

His shoulders deflated mid tying his boot, a solemn nod in response like even talking to you was a chore, and after the night you'd had the day before, any little irritating thing like that was going to be enough to set you off.

"I want to be a part of Tommy's life. I've made that clear."

"I know. And that's… fine. But we're going to need boundaries."

He sighed, turning around with his other boot dangling from his hand, leaning his side on the wall opposite what had been supposed to be his bed for the night (the horror you'd felt when you saw him gone and your son's door open was unmeasurable), and nodding once again, eyes looking down at you expectantly.

Oh. Right. You were the one speaking.

"Well, for starters… if you really can't tell me more about your job than you already have, I want you to at least keep me updated whenever you leave for work. I.. I don't want any more surprises."

I don't want to feel the way I felt during that year again.

"Alright."

You nodded, pulling Tommy closer as he became enamoured with the necklace that dangled from your neck, trying his mighty best to pull the charm in his mouth as you talked. "And, if you stay over, you take the couch. And not taking Tommy out without me. Until… further notice." You feared you were being a bit too strict with him, but simply reminding yourself that this was in fact, basically a stranger who just happened to father your child, and you'd have to take preventive measures until you were sure that you could leave Tommy alone with him.

Simon ignored the slight pain that stabbed at his heart when you said that, but… it was understandable. You'd been with Tommy longer than him, hell, you'd carried him for a whole 9 months, you had a stronger bond with your son than he had. For both of your safety and his, he'd go along with anything you'd say.

After agreeing with a simple nod and finishing tying up his shoes, he walked up to you both, fingers brushing against your clavicle as he pulled your necklace out of Tommy's mouth, blue eyes fixated on yours. "Send me your bank details later. I'll deposit some money for you both. As much as you need."

He hesitated a few moments before pulling his fingers away, instead running them down Tommy's nose bridge before pulling away, pulling a giggle out of him.

"O-okay."

He nodded, leaning down to zip up his duffle bag before strapping it over his shoulder, jacket in his other arm since it was relatively warm outside for a morning in Manchester. "Text me if y'need anything. I'll answer this time… I promise."

You winced, the subject of his disappearance still a touchy matter despite everything you'd both discussed the night before, but by the way he hesitated before speaking, the way he was awkwardly standing in the main corridor, he was either very obviously lying or telling the truth.

You hoped it was the latter.

"...okay. Goodbye, Simon."

The moment the door opened, the doorbell rang out, making you and Tommy flinch at the loud sound and Simon grumble at being the main victim of the ringer.

Your neighbour was standing there, finger on the bell, furrowed eyebrows glaring up at the intimidating man.

"Good morning?" You poked your head around Simon's large frame, Tommy hiding his face in the crook of your neck as if able to sense the confrontation about to happen. "Is everything okay?"

"Uh, no. Sorry, just. I think I speak for everyone in this building that we'd appreciate it if you'd keep that baby o'yours quiet once in a while. Barely gotten any sleep these days 'cause of his bloody crying." He frowned, glaring down at the baby in question, as if he was truly to blame for something he was barely able to control. Your cheeks warmed in embarrassment, having remembered that you'd already expected this last night when Tommy had burst into tears the first time, and then the second time when you were asleep.

"Right, I'm s-"

"Babies cry." Ghost interrupted, glare fixed on the man in front of you both, hand tightening around the doorframe much like when he'd been trying to convince you to let him in. "Y'can't really help it."

"Well you can shut him up-"

"And we did. Wondering if I'm going to need to do the same to you." He said gruffly, almost puffing his chest out of pride when he saw the man's colour drain from his face. It was a bit of a shitty rebuttal, in hindsight, but when it came from the beast of a man that he was, it was enough to make a grown man like the one in front of him piss his pants. "'m I?"

"N-no, sir."

"Sorted." He watched the neighbour scurry off back into his apartment like a bug of sorts, turning back to you with an amused glint in his normally inexpressive eyes. "Bother you often?"

"Yeah." You said breathlessly, actually impressed with how quickly he'd been able to get rid of him, like your own personal pest exterminator. "Thank you."

"He won't anymore." He stepped out into the hall, sparing you and your son one last glance before awkwardly lifting his hand up in an attempt to say goodbye, Tommy immediately trying to reach over to him with a plump hand, fingers flexing as if trying to use the force to pull his dad back.

"He'll be back, duck, don't worry… he's not leaving."

Ghost pressed the button to the elevator, willing himself enough strength to not turn around immediately at the sounds of his soon cooing and whining at him, the soft words you spoke plunging a spear into his cold heart.

He'd be back. He promised.

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