#but this time it lasted like 2 minutes and i had to sit down and breathe slowly and then it happened again like an hour ago

[penelopepine]

Don't be a stranger! Pt. 3

Part 2 Part 3

Simon "Ghost" Riley x FemReader

Content: Neighbors AU, fluff, developing relationship

For the first time in a long time Simon wasn't glad to be leaving his flat. Every other time he would have already been out the door and on his way back to the base. Instead he's sitting at his table nursing a cup of tea at 5am; trying to take in as much as he can before leaving for who knows how long. 

You and Simon had said your goodbyes to each other last night per his request. He didn't want you having to be up this early when you still had to wake up for work in just a couple hours. Which was something that made him worried to think about. He had been walking with you everyday, and this was going to be his first time not doing that with you. You were going to start doing a lot of things without him now though. 

Simon was sure in just a couple weeks of him being gone you'll have forgotten all about him and moved on in life. Sure he had your phone number now, but he's not going to be able to communicate with you for long periods whenever he's out on a mission. He'll become the neighbor who shows up every once in a while, and no longer your friend. He just knew it. 

A sudden knock at his door broke him of these thoughts. He cautiously approached the door; there were only two options he could think of for who was at the door. Either it was someone who was here to try and hurt him or it was you. 

He looked through the peephole and once he had confirmed who it was he opened the door.

It was you. Of course it was you, as much as he wished you had listened and were instead asleep right now; Simon was happy to see you. Standing in the doorway with a wide grin on your face, and holding a box. 

"Simon! I'm so glad I managed to catch you before you left," You hold out the box towards him, "here this is for you as well!" 

Simon softly says your name before grabbing the box from you and letting you step inside, “What’s this? Also shouldn’t you be asleep right now. I thought we agreed to say goodbye last night.” 

“You did say that, but I never agreed to it!” You step inside giving him a soft shoulder bump, “and that is a gift that you are not allowed to open until you get back to base.” 

With a small smile on his face Simon gives a huff, “I suppose I should’ve known better to think that you would’ve listened.” 

“I’ll listen when it’s important, but you never could’ve stopped me from being up and walking you out to the car. It’ll be like our normal walks except I’m walking you to work this time.” 

Simon will deny it to everyone, even himself, but he felt so cared for in that moment. Here you were at 5am wanting to be with him to the last second. Not because you had to or worked together, but simply because you wanted to. 

"Should I expect an escort from the car to the building when I return as well?"

"Just tell me when to be there and I will." 

He hopes you keep your word on that. Before anything else can be said his phone pings, "It seems my car is here." 

You give him a sad smile as the two of you head to the door. "I'm going to call and text you by the way; you're not going to get rid of me this easily." 

"I won't always be able to reply." He wasn't going to lie and say the two of you would always be in constant communication. That would only lead to hurt for both of you, "but I'll try to when I can." 

"That's ok, besides who else am I going to get to listen to me ramble about my day?" 

"Then I look forward to your 20 minute voicemail messages then, love." 

The rest of the walk to the car is passed with you telling Simon what plans you have coming up, and that he shouldn't worry about his place since you'll hold down the fort for him while he's gone. 

You stood silently now standing by his side as he put his bag in the trunk. Looking at you he can clearly see a glassy look in your eyes as you look up at him. 

"Can- can I get a hug before you go?" You nervously ask. 

You and Simon had exchanged shoulder bumps, back pats, and side hugs at most. Never have the two of you given the other a real hug. It took just a moment to think before Simon was opening up his arms towards you. Instantly you rush forward and you both stand there for a moment holding on to each other. 

“Be safe.” You whisper before letting go, and taking a step back. Letting Simon get inside the car. 

He watched up for as long as he could; memorizing you to mind. When he couldn’t see you any longer Simon took a deep breath, and slipped back to what he was most comfortable with. Being the ghost he was once more. 

-

“Aye, Lt. good to see you again! How was your time off?” Johnny of course was there right as soon as he stepped back on base. Normally he’d appreciate it, but right now all he wants is to get to his room. You said he couldn’t open the package till he got here, and he didn’t want to wait any longer than he had to. 

“It was fine.” Simon says as he walks past the other, “I’ll meet up with you later Johnny.” 

“You better! I have a lot of gossip that I need to catch you up on.” 

“Copy that.” 

He didn’t stop walking till the door to his room was firmly shut behind him.  Placing his bag down he sat at the desk and opened the box. 

Inside was a small container, a bracelet, and a letter. Pulling out the container first he opened it to find the little thing filled with cookies and a note on top. 

“I know you have a secret sweet tooth! Hope you enjoy these!” The note read. It was hard for him to not smile at that. He didn’t know that you had noticed that about him; it was actually something he tried to hide from you. 

The bracelet was clearly homemade by you. It is made up of black and gray beads, and a small silver pendant the shape of a heart. He runs his fingers over the pendant feeling the smooth cool surface before he slips the bracelet onto his wrist. He’ll cover it with his sleeves or put it in his pocket when he’s not in his own personal space. 

A thought pops into Simon’s head as looks at it; taking out his phone he takes a quick photo of the bracelet and sends it to you. Along with a text thank you for the cookies as well. 

Looking back in the box there was only the letter left. This was the item that made him the most nervous to look at. Very carefully though he opened it. 

“Simon,  

The very first day I met you I was so worried that you were there to yell at me. That I had already messed up a relationship with one of my neighbors, but you had surprised me. You offered to help me, and I said yes. 

That was the best decision I could have made. Having you as my friend will never be a mistake. I’m going to miss you while you’re gone, but rest assured as soon as you get back home I’ll make you whatever you want!

Make sure to stay safe out there and bring me back any cool rocks you find!

Sincerely, 

Your favorite neighbor!”

Reading the letter he couldn’t help but think about every moment he spent with you; noting to himself how different everything seems to be now in his life. He never thought he would meet someone like you that made him feel a certain way. 

With something akin to horror Simon realized what that feeling was, he liked you, he wanted you to be his. Somehow you had dug yourself into his heart, and made a home. 

Taglist:

@nexthyperfix @spicyspicyliving @yourdaydreamerfan @tf141gloryhole

#simon riley x reader #ghost x reader #x reader #fem reader #task force 141 #call of duty #simon ghost riley #female reader #john soap mactavish

[liveontelevision]

Suffer Pt. 4 | Lucifer x Reader

The time has come, babes, this could be the final part

I wanna say this part is 18+ , so MINORS go away

Part 1 - Part 2 - Part 3

♡♡♡

"I'll see you, Lucifer."

"I hope so."

Even with high hopes, Lucifer anxiously paces his own workshop, twisting his grip on his cane and watching the minutes pass by. Literally. He would either pull out his phone and check the time, or peak up at the novelty clock hanging nearby, and scoff at how little time has passed since the last time he decided to look. To occupy his time, he would rummage through his piles of squeaky creations, scanning over them as if he had anything on his mind other than you. He'd walk in front of a mirror, fixing his lapels, straightening his tie, then questioning whether or not he should just change entirely. With one more pacing lap around the small room, he stopped in front of the mirror again, while brushing his hair back with his claws. The sudden glimmer of his wedding band reflecting some light caught his attention. He froze in front of his reflection, then shifted his gaze down to his left hand. He twisted it around as if he never noticed it until now, even after wearing it for 10,000 years. Why is it bugging him now?

Oh, yeah. He was about to see you in just a few minutes.

But that shouldn't upset him, you two were becoming friends again.

Lucifer broke his gaze from his hand and looked towards the large family painting still hung on the wall. He couldn't take it down. He had no idea why Lillith left, for all he knows, it could've been a perfectly valid reason. But she looks so happy in that picture. In fact, they all looked so happy. How did that happen? A combination of the clock chiming, and an alarm he set the day before, going off at the same time made him jump. He fumbled his phone into his suddenly sweaty claws, letting out a nervous yelp. 

3:01PM

"Aw, Hell! I'm late!" Before snapping his fingers to open a portal to the hotel, he mindlessly slipped the ring off his finger and placed it carefully on his desk, leaving it alongside a family portrait.

— 

You hummed your usual tune, the same one that calmed you and young Charlie, as you twisted and turned to examine your outfit. You were almost as nervous as Lucifer was. Well.. not really. He was a wreck. But why should you be nervous? Why would he be nervous? You two only agreed to meet up at the hotel and.. catch up some more. No activities were really planned, it was as if you simply wanted to hear each other's voices again. As if the late-night calls you were having weren't enough. It was a nice change though. No matter how late you were talking to each other, you slept like a rock the rest of the night. No need for some silly radio anymore.

Speaking of,

"Alastor, what did I say about knocking? Or even going through the door in general?" You questioned out loud, not even looking away from your figure in the reflection. The radio on your nightstand suddenly started playing a barely recognizable old-timey tune, and you could feel the radio static sensation growing in your chest, so you felt no need to break your concentration to look his way. You heard your bed creek next, only peeking in your reflection for a moment to catch Alastor sitting cross-legged on the edge of your bed.

"Isn't today your weekly Rosie visit? What do you want?" It's not like he was bugging you, but recently Alastor had been keeping close quarters. You found him sitting next to you a lot, a little too close, during exercises. Which was strange, considering he never really attended exercises until recently.

Obviously, he's been inviting himself into your room without permission, which caused him to interrupt some phone calls with the king. He's also been inviting you out to Cannibal Town more often, and even bringing some unannounced fresh-cooked meals for you. You wouldn't admit to the cannibal thing, but it's hard to avoid it after working in that bakery for so long. You didn't mind it, as long as it wasn't.. rare. So, you suppose it was nice of him to cook for you. 

"Indeed! I’m assuming you'll be joining me, that is why you’re dressing so formally, correct? Rosie's been talking about you quite a lot, considering you've missed our last few outings." You could hear his teeth clench while he spoke his final words.

"All good things, I hope?" You had moved on to looking through a little jewelry box, occasionally pulling out necklaces and holding them up in the mirror to see how it'd look on you.

"Of course!" Alastor reassures, rising from the bed to stand behind you, his hands gently placed on your shoulders. He has to bend at the hips a bit to see his own face in the shorter mirror.

"Then, I'm sure she can handle one more lunch date without me. I'll join next time." You said, still rummaging through the little trinket box. With a victorious hum, you pulled out a little golden chain, with a snake charm that swirled into an S shape.

As you held it up to your neck, like you did with the rest, you felt Alastor's hands shift from your shoulders to take each end of the necklace, carefully pulling the chain around your neck to fasten it in the back. With a quick thank you, you pulled your hair to the side to assist him. His breath was hot against the back of your neck, sending an instinctive shiver down your spine. Alastor started to feel a bit flushed at the sensation, which surprised even him. The thought of sinking his teeth into the softest part of your neck, doing anything to keep your mind off of that damned angel, immediately flooded his mind. He fastened the necklace quickly, pulling away as fast as he could after that grotesque thought crossed his mind. He was sure that he was just hungry. He cleared his throat, stepping a good few feet away from you.

"So? How's this? Does it look okay with the dress?" Oh, it did. You tried your best to not concern yourself over what you wore, but Lucifer was always one to dress in his finest suits, so you'd hope to meet him at least halfway. Excuse the phrasing, but God bless Angel and his eye for fashion. You arrived in Hell before Charlie was even born, then essentially worked in uniforms up until you arrived in the hotel. Emphasizing that this was not a date, Angel found you a pretty little purple dress. It was perfectly fine as is, with thin straps, a skirt hugging your hips just slightly and stopping right below where your thighs meet. But he insisted you "spice it up", accessorizing you with a patterned corset, decorated in leafy designs and tied together with a silky ribbon at your back. It took you hours of convincing to even put it on for today. All this for just a hangout. What would you even do? Have dinner? Would Lucifer go into Pentagram City with you? What would happen if you stayed in the hotel? 

"Not exactly my style, I prefer something with more.. coverage. But you look lovely either way." Alastor's words broke your train of thought and you immediately turned red, embarrassed by how lost in your own thoughts you got. You recovered and rolled your eyes at him, finding your phone and looking through it.

"I don't know why I asked, it's not like I'm dressing up for you." You said, Alastor watching you as you swipe through something and then smile at your phone.

"Then who might you be dressing up for, might I ask?" He asked with a sly grin, leaning foward on his cane, craning his neck to look at your whatever could be making you smile so brightly. You pulled your phone to your chest and glared at him.

"No one! ..Me! I'm dressing for myself! Is there a problem with that, Al?" You let out a little humph, before checking the time on your phone.

"He should be here soon.." you said softly, almost hoping he didn't hear you. "Tell Rosie I said hi, will you? I'm seeing Lucifer today." You said quickly as you left your room, hoping you could avoid his response by leaving in a hurry. Luckily you did. You felt the static running through you soften as you went down the stairs, looking at your phone as you did. With one more mental pep talk, you took a deep breath and opened the hotel's double doors.

"Heyyyy! You!" Lucifer stood eagerly, without a ring to fiddle with, he toyed with his clawed hands behind his back. You should respond. You should greet him, say hi, welcome him in, anything. But he stood there wearing a plum and black purple blazer, that stopped just at his waist. It was fitted nicely over a ruffled black top and dark trousers. Before you could stop yourself, you realized you had let your eyes trace his body up and down. Quickly meeting his eyes with a reddened face, you nervously chuckle, stepping aside to let him in.

"S-Sorry.. I- uhh.. Hi. Lucifer." You finally greet him, shutting the door as he enters the hotel.

"You look nice. Purple always looked good on you." He stated out loud. Purple? When was the last time you wore anything purple? Looking around the hotel, he examined any detail he might have missed from his last visit. Of course, that wasn't what he was really doing. He was trying his hardest to keep his eyes off of you, needing to let his heart rate slow.

After finally calming himself down, he turns to you with a grin, opening his mouth to say something- but what he saw was you gripping onto the hem of your skirt with a nervous look on your face, your eyes wide.

Purple always looked good on you.

"Are you okay? Sorry, did I - uh.. should I - " you quickly step away from him, waving your hands.

"N-No! You're fine! I'm okay, I just uh.. dinner! You want something to eat? Or.. we can check out the city-" Desperately trying to take the topic off your feelings, you threw out some ideas for the night.

"Oh! Okay, Dinner sounds great! We should probably stay in the hotel, but will.. will anyone else be joining us..?" He looked around the clearly empty room.

"Charlie and Vaggie just left to try and recruit some sinners, Angel's working and Husk avoids people if no one's the bar, so.. I think that it might just be us." You smiled. Why were you smiling? Maybe because they're contagious. 

Alastor. The familiar grinning face comes trailing down the stairs, greeting you and you alone.

"Oh! Your Highness, I had no idea we'd have company!" He walked behind you, placing his hands on your shoulders again as he looked down at Lucifer.

"Al, I told you he was coming by." You rolled your eyes, crossing your arms over your chest. Lucifer glared, immediately breaking the contact from him to look at you.

"Will he be joining?" Lucifer asked, in an agitated low tone.

"No, he's busy. Right? You were just leaving for Cannibal Town." You stressed, turning your head to look up at the towering demon. Lucifer wondered how you weren't intimidated by him? Your head barely reached the center of his chest.

"Of course, I wouldn't want to intrude! Just be careful with our little doll here, your majesty." He says, then leans closer to the crook of your neck. "And I thought I'd bring your cardigan, dear, it's a tad cold today." The sweater suddenly appears in his hands and he drapes it over your shoulders. It felt heavier than usual.

"Oh, um.. thanks.. Al." You clear your throat, shooting him the best smile you could muster in this embarrassing moment.

"Have fun with Rosie!" You finally said, essentially pushing Alastor out of the hotel's doors. None of that had to happen, he could've easily phased his way out of the hotel and you knew that. With a final sigh, you went back to Lucifer, taking off the sweater and folding it, before draping it over the couch in the lobby.

"What, not cold anymore? He was just trying to be nice." As much as you'd like to hear that as a joke, it had a sense of discomfort to it. You knew Lucifer didn't like Alastor; he made that clear multiple times. Considering he's been so kind to you though, you thought you had to at least try to defend him. But with Alastor's recent actions, and just how.. touchy... he's been, it's getter harder to try and explain his actions.

"It's Hell, Lucifer, it's never cold. It doesn't go with the dress anyway. Now, c’mon. I can make something quick in the kitchen." Trying to move past the subject, you take hold of his hand and guide him to the kitchen area.

You definitely cooked a lot more since you stayed in the hotel. Despite your mild cannibalistic tendencies, you loved making regular, flesh-free, food for everyone else. It was just who you are, you loved to dote. At this point, you were making meals for everyone, cooking specific courses for certain demons. Specializing in their favorites. It was no different than how you were when you were taking care of Charlie. A messy toddler had a constantly changing appetite, and Lucifer always seemed to admire how well you could keep up with that. I mean.. despite kissing a married king, who was also your boss, you were actually good at your job.

The cooking process went by fast, you put on an apron before starting to cook, which Lucifer could argue looked adorable on you. But he would never admit it. He simply sat on a nearby counter, his legs crossed over each other as he leaned back on the palm of his hands. You recreated something that used to be a favorite back at the manor, and of course, it was delicious. The two of you didn't even make it to the table. You plated everything and went towards the door, but before you could leave, you turned to see Lucifer already working on his plate as he sat on the counter. You laughed at him, before attempting to join his side. This was probably for the best, sitting at a table while eating seemed so.. Date-y.

You struggled to hop up to the counter without flashing anyone. Dammit, Angel. With a quick motion, Lucifer had his hands on your waist and he lifted you with ease onto the cold tabletop. With a nervous exchange of thanks, he hikes back up the counter and sits next to you. It felt ridiculous to examine the entire moment. Here you are, sitting on the edge of the damn kitchen counters with Lucifer, kicking your legs every now and then, laughing at jokes and just.. enjoying everything. He made you glad you lived in Hell.

The plates now set aside, Lucifer had turned to face you, his crossed leg lightly brushing against yours as he recalled some embarrassing things that Charlie did when she was growing up. Things that happened after you left.

"Oh it was bad, we don't even know what she used to dye her hair but it was not easy to get out. You know.. Teenager stuff, I guess." He showed off some images from his phone, making you lean into his shoulder to catch a better glance. You found yourself leaning past Lucifer, your sides fully together at this point. Lucifer braces himself up with his hand behind your back. When you finally had enough of the pictures of Charlie in her emo-phase, you sat straight, making Lucifer's arm shift to the small of your back. You hummed quietly at his touch.

Don't do this. Don't ruin this, not again.

"Dishes! I'll um.. let me clean up and we can find somewhere with actual chairs.." You hopped off the counter, stumbling a bit before leaning into the sink and starting the water. Before you could even start scrubbing, the dishes simply poofed from your hands and into the drying rack at the side of the sink, sparkling clean.

"Oh, right.. Angelic powers." You laughed nervously, looking around the room for a moment.

Finally deciding that the air was too thick with some kind of tension, you gestured him out of the room and showed him off to the small book room. You didn't go in here often, but it was either this or your bedroom.. Obviously, that wouldn’t end well.

Taking a seat on the little sofa in the room, you managed to get the conversation back on a regular topic, complaining about some customers you used to deal with while working in Cannibal Town. He finally went on a rant about his rubber duck fixation, which baffled you but didn't really surprise you.

The conversations didn't last long. It was bound to happen. Alone in the hotel? Catching up after all these years of built-up tension? It started with Lucifer placing his hand on the small of your back, something that has always given you butterflies. It didn't feel the same when Alastor would do it. Lucifer's hands were obviously smaller, but they were so gentle. And he had no intent on pulling you closer or keeping you sitting upright, he was doing it just so he could touch you. Your hands had traveled in between the two of you, supporting you as you leaned into him. The room was silent, but your thoughts were screaming in your head. He's hurt you before. He's just been alone for too long, this isn't anything special. Don't make the same mistake.

Staring into each other's glazed-over eyes, unsure of how to proceed but unwilling to move away, he finally bites the bullet. Raising his free hand to caress the side of your face, brushing a few strands of hair away, you place your hand overtop of his, relishing in his gentle touch. You felt his hand flinch a bit at your actions, but when you fluttered your eyes shut and leaned into his palm, he immediately felt at ease. He moves his hand towards him just slightly to better bring you closer. Your foreheads now pressed together, all your concerns went away. This wasn't like before. You felt so safe with him, there was no fear of things going wrong or being ruined. Not anymore. Not at this moment. Your comfort was disrupted by his quiet voice.

"A-Are you sure about this.? Can I.. Maybe we should just-" Shut him up. You muffled any other worried thoughts he might have by placing a gentle and quick kiss on his lips. His eyes widened just for a moment, looking surprised despite all that's happened beforehand. Suddenly desperate, he pulls you in, making your lips meet again in a long, long, overdue embrace.

You were just as desperate for this. All you could think of was how gentle he was being, even with the eagerness of his quickening breath. You leaned in more, forcing Lucifer to prop himself up with his hand beside him. You kept leaning. At this point he's taken both his hands off of you, needing to brace himself up. Your lips never pull apart. You placed your hands on his chest, moving underneath his jacket, and onto his shirt, just to be even the slightest bit closer to him. Suddenly processing the position, Lucifer shifted his leg to allow you to crawl closer to him. You were careful, you knew this was long overdue, but it'd be a bad idea to do anything too intense right now. It would overwhelm both of you. Still, finally breaking your kiss, you pushed back to assess his beautiful expression. He looked disappointed. Almost runny eyes, he was propped up by his elbows while you kelt your hands placed on his chest. His porcelain skin contrasted with the red glow across his cheeks.

"You okay, Lucifer?" You asked softly, reaching a hand to brush some strands of hair back into place. He only nodded, before returning a hand onto your back and pulling you on top of him, deepening the kiss you had so rudely interrupted. You felt his hand pull away for a moment, and heard him snap his fingers. You heard the door shut. Then you heard it lock. That made you as nervous as it did relieved. Pulling away for a moment you decide to tease him.

"What, you couldn't have done that before?" You said slyly with a smirk on your face. With a sarcastic laugh, he pressed a kiss onto your smile. Neither of you could believe what was going on right now.

Both your breaths were becoming heavy, Lucifer had scooted to rest his back on the arm of the couch, he pulled you closer and rested his hands around your waist. Neither of you had made the decision to go any farther than enjoying each other's lips yet, but at the same time, you wouldn't complain about staying connected to him like this forever. He reached back and tugged on the silky ribbon of your corset, maybe not as an invitation, but to find something to fiddle with to keep his nerves at bay. You weren't sure. But there was no harm in assuming, right? You took hold of his hand, which still held one of the laces, and guided it to pull it completely loose. It wasn't covering anything, it just loosened the fit of your dress. It wasn't like you were stripping for him. But his face was absolutely flushed by the action.

Letting the corset belt drop to the ground, you leaned forward and ran your hands up his chest. Moving to the inside of his coat, you slipped your fingers over his shoulders to guide the jacket off of him. With some more shifting and adjusting, you both sat straight. Lucifer found himself dragging his lips to your chin, then your jawline, guiding your head to tilt back for easier access. Pulling your body against his with one hand, he cradled your head with the other, running his claws gently across your scalp before doing so. The action sent shivers down your spine, almost a relieving sensation to your hot skin.

He speckled kisses down your neck, taking his time to cover every inch of you. You could feel his labored breath against your skin every time you let out a little moan or hum. He ran his hand down your shoulder, hooking the strap of your dress with his thumb and moving it aside, careful not to undress too much. Not yet. With the newfound space, he nipped at your skin, making you yelp quietly. You quickly place a hand over your mouth, embarrassed by the sounds coming from you. Lucifer was not going to let that happen. He traced your arm, running his fingers along your skin, and gently pulled your hand away from your mouth.

"W-What - " You could barely question him, before he forced another yelp from you, sinking his teeth into your shoulder just a bit deeper this time. He hummed at your finally unmuffled voice, taking your hand that he had been holding and guiding it to his head. You immediately took hold of his hair, gripping just lightly, something to keep you from floating away, while he continued to work across your collarbone. Feeling a light suction, you gasped and yanked on his hair, pulling his face away from your chest.

"N-No, no marks! Don't be.. mm... s-stupid.." you scolded, as he leaned down, and ran his tongue up the length of your neck.

"What if I put them somewhere only I can see?" He had moved to your ear at this point, kissing the crook of your jaw as he spoke so sweetly against your skin. Ooh, fuck, you wanted that. Bad.

You took a hold of his jaw and pulled him back up to your lips. Placing your thumb along the bottom of his lip, you opened his mouth a bit, inviting yourself into his mouth. Tracing his lower lip with your tongue, you slid inside, his tongue feverishly following suit. The sensation forced a quiet whimper out of Lucifer, you felt his body weight droop for a moment, falling forward and pushing you onto your back. Caging you in with his arms, he refused to pull away, even if he needed to breathe.

You pushed his chest slightly, and he immediately pulled away, his lustful gaze turning to concern. You watched him catch his breath. While he was panting, you could see his forked tongue just slightly hanging from his lips, which were glossy from the messy and desperate kisses you'd been exchanging. You looked up and down his body for a second. Keeping your hands on his chest, you smoothed over his shoulders, before pulling him back in for another kiss. With your hands still near his chest, you reached towards the clasps of his shirt, beginning to work the expensive feeling fabric off of him. You could feel the heat radiating from his skin. You ran your closer hands across his bare chest, once completely undone. He was overheated and panting, you were just helping him, obviously. You'd say anything to convince yourself that what your doing was okay. Why wasn't it okay, again?

"It's okay, babe, we'll try again later." A saddened groan was muffled through the closed door. Oh. Right. You heard Vaggie comforting a frustrated Charlie just outside the room. You both looked at each other with widened eyes, probably for longer than you should’ve. It was a mixture of disappointment and anxiety. And a little bit of consideration, that maybe they won't check the room if you're quiet. The set of footsteps was coming closer, possibly passing the room to go up the stairs, but it finally forced you out of your head.

You pushed him off of you, desperately making as much distance as possible. The motion of pushing him from his chest, which your hands were so sweetly caressing moments before, took the air out of his lungs, forcing out a loud groan. Hushing him as if you weren't the reason he was wheezing, you struggle to get your corset back on. Finally giving in, you threw it over the back of the couch and took hold of your trusty sweater that was still draped over the back of the couch. You scrambled to put it on. Lucifer simply snapped his fingers to fix up his hair and return his suddenly clean and crisp top back on him. You also heard him unlocking the door.

"Fucking angelic magic.." you muttered, out of breath from your little frantic display. He lets out a cocky chuckle. Taking the risk, he pulls you in for one more quick kiss. His hand lingered on your cheek for a moment, his eyes absolutely sparkling just at the sight of you.

His hand slipped away quickly once the door opened.

"Holy shit- dad?? You didn't tell me you were visiting!" Charlie held onto the handle as the door was opened, Vaggie stood beside her looking just as confused. Before you could acknowledge it, Lucifer gestured to the little coffee table in front of the couch, with some random board game sprawled out on it. When did that get there?

"Heyy Sweetie- well, I-I uh.. we were just catching up, ya know, playing some games. The.. usual.." He grinned nervously, picking up some random game piece and observing it like he knew what it was for.

"Yeah, don't worry Charlie, I'm kicking his ass." You said smoothly, smiling at him when he turned towards you with a glare. You were definitely better at acting casual than he was.

"Oh! Well.. okay, then! Maybe we can all get a game in before you go!" Charlie planned out, already walking off. Lucifer sent a sweet smile and a little wave to Vaggie. She returned the greeting, a comforted smile on her face as she followed after Charlie.

"Well! That was-" Lucifer turned to you with a nervous expression, scratching at the top of his hand.

"- A close call?" you said through some chuckles, "but.. good. It was good." You tucked a strand of hair behind your ear with a smile you couldn't shake off. You looked at him nervously fidgeting with his hands, your eyes widening at the sight of his ring-less finger. Blinking a few times, thinking that maybe your mind was playing tricks on you, you couldn't stop yourself from turning red.

"Just good? I'm offended, sweetheart, I thought I did a pretty amazing job there." He boasts, crossing his arms across his chest. Jokes were another coping mechanism Lucifer used often. But you weren't caught up on that.

Sweetheart. You sucked in your lips to hold back a ridiculously wide grin.

Awkwardly clearing his throat when you didn't respond, he clasps his hands together in his lap.

"Sooo.. what now..?" He asked sheepishly. He sounded nervous asking that. You took a hold of his hand and kissed his knuckles, before standing and taking him along with you.

"Now, we have to play some random board game with Charlie. That's your fault, by the way." He laughed after letting out a sigh of relief, following behind as you left the room.

Things were really looking up after that. The board game was awful, and you had to avoid eye contact with Lucifer the rest of the night, the sight of him turning you red immediately. His lips were all over you literal minutes before this, yet he’s acting much calmer than you. It almost frustrated you. Charlie even asked if you were feeling sick at some point. What a fucking nightmare.

Besides that, the unavoidable tragic events proceeding with the extermination day came and went. You did everything in your power to defend the hotel alongside Charlie and your newfound family. During the battle, you found yourself getting distracted by Lucifer's little fight with Adam. It's not like Adam wasn't getting a few hits in, but Lucifer seemed completely unphased. Sometimes you forget. You've seen him as a nervous, loving father, with a habit of making too many ridiculous jokes, but at the end of the day, he was powerful. He was more powerful than anything else in this realm. It was kinda hot..

A spear flying by your head snapped you out of your thoughts, and you groaned, simply embarrassed by your own mind.

The construction of the hotel went the same, he was creating endless materials amd assistance for the crew and you couldn't help but appreciate his strength and abilities. You assisted Charlie to keep your mind from thinking about Lucifer's teeth sinking into your shoulder or how smooth and warm his bare skin felt underneath your hands. But you found yourself chatting it up or helping Lucifer with some tasks every now and then.

Still, you had your fun during the process, sneaking off every now and then to "recharge". A single kiss on the cheek gets this man going, but you kept it at that. You weren't willing to risk any more run-ins.

Finally, the renovations were nearly finished, you were walking the halls just looking for any little things that may need to be cleaned up before you were meant to meet outside for the finale touches. Humming and scanning the area for any debris, you were stopped in your tracks feeling a fuzzy static sensation. It didn't feel like Alastor's usual presence, it was uneven and wavering. You looked around, finally finding him leaning against a wall with a hand clutched over his chest.

"Holy shit- Al! We thought you died, what happened?Oh my god, are you hurt? I mean everyone's gonna be relieved that you're okay, but we have to get you patched up soon or-" you rushed towards him as you spoke, watching a new pocket of blood seep through his coat. Attempting to reach for the wound, his hands came to your shoulders, Holding you with a bruising strength.

"A-Al, that hurts.." you gripped his wrists, attempting to pull him off of you.

"I hate to do this, love, but it appears I'm desperate. In exchange for my silence, you said you owe me one. Now, do me a favor. Stay away from that pompous king." Before you could say  anything else, a whirring green smoke encased you both, finalizing the deal.

"What? Hold on, what did you do? Alastor, what's going on?" You questioned him desperately as he released his hands from your shoulders.

What just happened?

"Hm. Don't make such a fuss, I'm just helping you. Unless I'm forgetting, I'm quite sure he did something to hurt you in the past. So it's probably for the best to keep your distance. Ah! I believe they're looking for us, outside, dear! Shall we?" Alastor brushes off his suit, covering the stain with his overcoat and suddenly dropping the injured act. He hooks your arm into his and the two of you melt away into the shadows before you could protest to anything that just happened.

♡♡♡

lmao jk there's more parts coming

( Just an extra extra note, it honestly takes me awhile to write, I usually work on it piece by piece over a few days, then it takes me a day or two to finish editing it, plus it all depends on what's motivating me that day :') PLEASE keep sending more requests and I really appreciate everyone who has already sent one in being so patient )

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#hazbin hotel #hazbin #lucifer morningstar #lucifer hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel fandom #lucifer hazbin #lucifer magne #hazbin hotel smut #lucifer fluff #lucifer morningstar x you #lucifer x reader #lucifer x reader smut #hazbin hotel lucifer #hazbin lucifer #hazbin hotel fan fiction #hazbin hotel fanfiction #lucifer x you smut #lucifer x you #lucifer morningstar x reader #hazbin lucifer x reader #hazbin hotel lucifer x reader #hazbin alastor #hazbin hotel alastor

[bellysoupset]

I would love to see Leo and Jonah sick at the same time ^^

maybe one of them has food posioning and the other has been hiding some sort of stomach bug for a while that happens to show it’s face then?

if not that’s fine but would really like to see this!

-🪼

(First time submitting an ask :D)

This was sent before you switched to the 🧋anon tag.

Also requested by @vdoggg!

Food Poisoning - Part 3.

A continuation of Leo's birthday fic. Read part 1 here. Part 2 here.

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

Leo was lying on the bed, curled up and trying to make sense if he was about to puke again, when he heard the front door opening. JD lifted up her head from where she had been happily kneading his thigh and he breathed out.

“It’s just Jon,” Leo grumbled, not moving a muscle. Jonah hadn’t texted him, but Leo had enough sense to figure out who had eaten the missing cupcakes and why he was back earlier than usual. 

As if to confirm his point, he heard hurried steps and then the noise of liquid hitting liquid and Jonah’s signature loud burp down the hall, as he probably burst into the guest bathroom. Leo sighed, forcing himself to sit up and waiting a second as the room spun around him. 

He had originally thought it was a simple overeating bellyache, even when he puked again as they arrived home, chalking that up to the vestiges of nausea and carsickness. Halfway through the night though, while Jonah was peacefully asleep, Leo was wrecked by the cramps in his lower belly and had given up on that notion as the runs hit him.

Leo felt mildly guilty he hadn’t been awake enough that morning to warn Jonah this was definitely food poisoning, then maybe his fiancee wouldn’t have eaten the cupcakes.

Grabbing on the walls to keep himself upright, Leo made his slow track down the hall and sighed as he found exactly what he had predicted. Jonah curled up in front of the toilet, hugging the bowl with arms, his shoulders hitching with a retch.

“Shit,” Leo sighed, slumping against the door and taking a deep breath to steady himself, “I’m sorry, Jon.”

A burp answered him, followed by more liquid splashing and then a pitiful whimper. Leo slowly entered the bathroom, which was much too small for the two men, and sat down on the cold ground, planting a hand on his fiance’s back. 

He didn’t have the energy to rub, but Jonah didn’t seem to mind. After a couple minutes the other man finished coughing and raised a shaky hand to flush the toilet, so Leo grabbed a bunch of toilet paper and passed it to him. He heard Jon blow his nose, then flush again and finally he turned to look at Leo. 

Leo cringed, his boyfriend looked damn near gray and his lips were a terrible pale shade. He had sweat beading all over his face, gluing his curls down to his temples, “Jon, are you-”

“Threw up- threw up in front of a patient,” Jonah informed him, in a little strangled voice. He closed his eyes, as if wincing at the memory, “I really don’t feel good.”

“I know,” Leo said truthfully, scooting closer. He couldn’t emphasize enough how much he understood Jon’s plight, given that just walking the short distance between their bedroom and the guest bathroom had caused his nausea to increase all over again, “I’m really sorry, Jon.”

“Not your fault,” Jonah groaned, turning to the toilet once more and spitting in it, planting a hand on his chest and massaging a burp up, “fuck…”

Leo tipped his head back against the cold tiles of the bathroom, trying to ignore the angry gurgling of his belly and how he felt like acid was crawling up his throat. He took a measured breath, gulping down, then startled as he felt a hand touching him.

Jonah let out a small snort at his jerkiness and Leo frowned, taking a second to realize Jonah was checking his vitals. He was being gentle, but the slight pressure on his Adam's apple was not helping Leo gulp down the nausea, so he pulled back.

“What are you doing…?”

“You’re really, really pale,” Jon frowned at him, “when did you last drink water?”

“You’re the one throwing up,” Leo pointed out with a pout, bringing his knees up to his chest, “are you done?”

Jonah shrugged, not reassuring him in the least, “I’m fine,” he said, using the toilet to pull himself up and then promptly leaning over the sink with a deafening retch. Leo scoffed, dizzily rubbing Jon’s thigh since he didn’t feel like he could get up now that he had sat down.

‘You’re fine, uh?”

A wet burp, followed by Jonah letting out a groan and wrapping an arm around his stomach… Then whimpering, “oh no,” and bent on the middle, clutching his belly. Leo raised his eyebrows.

“Jon…?”

“You need- I need you to get out,” Jonah groaned through clenched teeth, “now.”

“What… Why?” Leo tried to pull himself up, only to find that he really couldn’t and Jonah whimpered again.

“Fuck, Leo, I’m gonna shit my pants, get out-”

“I’m trying!” The blonde exclaimed, darting out a hand and grabbing the bathroom sink, in order to pull himself up, since his fiancee was of no help at all. On the contrary, Jonah seemed to have tuned him out, too preoccupied with the sour state of his intestines. 

“Leo…”

“I’m-I’m go-” Leo didn’t finish his sentence, because being upright so quickly caused his head to swim, so instead of leaving the bathroom, he clutched the granite of the sink for dear life, breathing through his mouth, ears ringing and black spots dancing in front of his eyes. The queasiness that had been on the back burner until then, jumped up tenfold and Leo couldn’t do anything as he leaned forward and brought up a gush of pale yellow vomit in the basin.

Vaguely he heard Jonah groan and then the noise of his boyfriend falling sit on the toilet, sickness overriding any modesty.

Leo coughed, gasping for air and still white knuckling the sink. It felt like his head was floating. He gagged once more as he heard the noise of Jonah’s intestines emptying out and his fiancee let out a humiliated whine.

“I’m sorry, this is so gross, I-” Jonah all but whimpered, a sound so alien in his voice that it made Leo snap slightly back in reality. 

He shook his head, opening the tap and washing away the vomit, before washing his mouth and forcing up a small burp. Leo hung over the sink, unsure if his belly was done with him. 

“Jon?” he called after a minute, splashing some water on his face to try to get rid of the woozy sensation that he was about to pass out. 

A cough answered him and Leo turned to look at his boyfriend, then groaned in sympathy. Jonah had grabbed the bin and planted it on his lap, as his own stomach joined his body’s attempt at purging. 

“Aww angel,” Leo stumbled slightly forward, planting a hand on Jonah’s shoulder and squeezing his nape, “get it up, worst is almost over…”

Jonah’s whole body lurched with a big belch, that brought up another large wave of vomit inside their bathroom bin. Leo brought up a fist to his mouth and muffled a gag, turning his face away. He wasn’t one to get sympathy sick, but this was a gruesome sight when his stomach was already so upset.

He looked up at the ceiling, waiting until Jonah stopped heaving, then dared to glance down as the other man rasped out, “I’m done… I think I’m done…”

“Let me take this,” Leo took a forceful breath and retrieved the bin from Jonah’s hand, planting it on top of the sink and tying the trashbag, “do you need help…?”

“I’d rather die,” Jonah scoffed, wrapping both arms around his stomach and rocking softly, “bloody hell, Leo, it was just… Just two cupcakes, how the hell-”

“I don’t know,” Leo rubbed his face, frustrated, then grabbed the trashbag and fortified himself for the journey of getting out of the bathroom so Jon could get up and shower, “I’m going… I’m gonna give you some privacy. But I’m gonna leave the door open, okay?”

Not that he really could do anything in case Jonah slipped and fell in the shower, considering Leo was barely holding his own weight up. Jon was graceful enough not to mention it, though Leo wasn’t sure his boyfriend was even listening. Instead he was taking little rapid breaths, a sickly little burp sneaking up on him.

“Babe?”

“Bin-” Jonah’s voice was thick with nausea, “Leo- Gimme-”

Leo quickly pulled the tied trashbag out of the bin and passed the empty bucket back to Jonah, thankful that it wasn’t a hollowed out metal bucket like others they had in the house. Jon leaned over it immediately, barely retching before liquid sprayed from his mouth, then his back arched with a more violent heave. 

“Jesus,” Leo whispered, starting to panic. This was quite violent and he hated that he couldn’t help as much as he wanted to. His legs were shaking and his own tummy was squeezing and cramping, intestines building a riot inside of him. Leo ignored the horrible sensation of his body revolting against him, in order to plant a shaky hand on Jonah’s shoulder and keep him from falling off the toilet. 

After what felt like an eternity, Jonah planted the bin on the ground and his elbows on his knees, groaning, “fuck…” 

Leo squeezed his shoulder, “I’m- Uhm- Are you-you done…?” 

Jon’s head snapped up and he frowned at Leo’s sluggish sentences. Even exhausted and wrung dry, he hadn’t been losing liquids for as long as the other man had and was more alert. 

“Leo, sit down,” he bossed and Leo shook his head, sweat breaking on his forehead and gluing his shirt down. 

“Can’t- Don’t feel well…” He forced the words out, “are you okay…?”

“I’m fine,” Jonah stressed, “please, can you just sit down for a minute? I just need to shower-”

Leo nodded, then stumbled back and sat on the threshold between the bathroom and the hallway, whole body going down as if he was a broken doll. Jonah felt the start of panic prickling him, running his options through his mind. 

Despite wanting to stay under the hot water for the rest of the day, Jon forced himself to keep the shower to only a minute, wrapping a towel around his hip and ignoring the way his belly was grumbling and whining all over again. He couldn’t even understand how he wasn’t empty yet. 

Leo was in the exact same spot, he hadn't moved a muscle. Jonah crouched down, touching his fiance’s pale, slack face and hating the way he could feel Leo’s rapid heart beat. 

“You’ve been puking since yesterday, this isn’t good,” Jon sighed, patting Leo’s cheeks, “baby, open your eyes.”

“Gon’besick,” Leo groaned, instead of obeying and Jonah jerked back just in time to avoid getting his arm coated in vomit, as Leo’s head hung and bright yellow bile splashed on his shirt. 

Jonah groaned, sympathy sickness making his stomach squeeze and he didn’t have it in him to fight it, he turned his head and gagged. It took forever for his stomach to settle and he could feel Leo was still dry heaving, even without looking. 

“We need help,” Jonah said, forcing himself to look at the mess and deciding there was no way he could handle this alone, when his body was hellbent on getting ready of any fluid he had ever consumed. 

Leo let out a little whimper as an answer and Jonah made up his mind.

—------------

“Christ,” Luke’s voice was much too loud in their quiet apartment and Jon jerked from the small nap he was taking in the middle of the hallway. He had managed to strip Leo out of his ruined shirt and changed into boxers himself instead of only a towel, but that was it. Moving Leo had been out of the question. 

“Leo first,” Jonah opened his eyes, his head was pounding from all the heaving and coughing, “I think he needs a hospital…” 

Lucas didn’t argue, crouching down in front of them and touching Leo’s cheeks, patting them softly, “Leo. Leo, hey-” he shook him a little harder, until the blonde let out a groan and opened his eyes. His face immediately twisted into a frown, the cramps hitting him now that he was awake.

“Luke…?” Leo groaned, curling up as much as he could, but Lucas was having none of it. He forced the other man to open up and threw an arm around his neck. 

“C’mon,” Luke’s voice came out strained as he managed to pull Leo up on his feet, “couch with you. You need to drink something.”

“Gonna… Gonna go right through-” Leo groaned, his head lolling and he pressed his nose to Luke’s neck, “won’tssstay down- Where’s Jon?”

“He’s fine,” Lucas managed to plant Leo on the couch, then grabbed some cushions and planted them under Leo’s legs, “I brought stuff.”

“What did you bring…?” Jonah tried to get up from the hallway, only to find that he was much weaker than he thought. His face burned with embarrassment as he too had to be hugged by Luke and pulled up. 

“Everything the drugstore would sell me without a prescription,” Luke huffed, planting Jonah in the opposite couch to Leo’s and then heading to the door in order to retrieve his grocery bag. He put it down on the coffee table, then removed a gatorade bottle, and five different medicine bottles. 

“Here,” Luke handed Jonah two different pills and a bottle of gatorade, “try holding these down.”

“Where’s JD?” Leo whispered from the other couch. He had curled up as much as he could and Jonah winced at the sight of him, throwing Lucas a panicked glance. He didn’t like at all the shade of white Leo had reached.

“What?” Luke asked, walking closer. For Leo he opened the gatorade bottle and stuck a straw inside of it.

The blonde made a face as the straw was pressed to his lips, trying to move away, “she must be starving…”

“I’ll look for JD in a minute,” Lucas ushered him closer, “just one sip, Leo. If you can’t then we’re gonna go to the hospital.”

The vague threat worked, because Leo finally took a gulp. Jonah watched him anxiously, already so familiar with the way his boyfriend worked that he fully expected to see the drink come up within seconds. When that didn’t happen, he allowed himself to fully collapse against the couch’s cushions. 

“How long has this been going on?” Lucas’ voice was distant, followed by a meow and then his footsteps. JD meowing louder. Jonah turned his head, fighting valiantly the urge to go to sleep and scoffed as he saw Luke clutching JD in his hands. 

“Don’t squeeze her like that,” he glared at the other man, while from the opposite couch Leo let out a pained groan. 

“Luke-” It was a whimper, and then Lucas dropped JD and lurched just in time to catch the mouthful of gatorade in the crumpled groceries paperbag. Jonah squeezed his eyes to avoid looking at the mess, feeling even worse that he was so useless. 

His own stomach churned uneasily and Jonah rolled on his side, focusing on breathing in and out and not on how awful he felt that he couldn’t be of any comfort or help as Leo continued to dry heave. 

“Fuck,” Lucas said and Jonah dared to open his eyes. Leo had fallen against their friend, white as a corpse, and not even fighting it as Luke wiped his lips with his thumb, puke be damned. 

“Hospital,” Jonah bossed, even dizzy as he was, “take him.”

“Yeah,” Luke nodded, carefully pushing Leo against the couch’s back, “Bella is coming over, she just stopped to buy us food. We’ll wait for her.” 

“Nooo-” Jonah shook his head, then his stomach clenched violently and he gagged, but all that fell on the floor was a clear line of spit, “don’t-”

“I’m not leaving you alone,” Lucas said harshly, crossing the room and forcing Jonah to sit up correctly, then grabbing a bucket and pushing it on his lap, “and Leo’s not gonna die in the fifteen minutes it’ll take her to get here. Chill.”

“Can’t…” Jonah mumbled miserably, too tired to hide how raw he felt, when Leo was this sick. He felt like crying and probably would have, if he wasn’t so dehydrated, “can’t chill.”

Luke’s frown softened up, replaced by all concern and sympathy and he crouched down in front of Jonah, grabbing the gatorade bottle once more, ‘yeah, I know, man. But I’m looking out for both of you. You trust me?”

Jon hesitated, then nodded, refusing to meet Luke’s eyes and the other man pushed the cold bottle in his hand, “take another sip. Bell is nearly here, I’m going to pack Leo a bag.”

True to what Luke had said, not more than ten minutes later, Bella entered the apartment. She was carrying another set of groceries and in true pragmatic fashion didn’t spare them even a look, heading straight to the kitchen to empty their fridge of the possibly tainted food and repack it. 

“Okay,” Luke walked back to Leo, with a backpack around his shoulder, “let’s go, Leo.”

“Jonah…” Leo mumbled dizzily, burying his face in Luke’s chest, “Jon’s sick too-”

“I know, but he’s in better shape than you,” Luke grunted, pulling Leo up and stumbling a little, “Bell will stay here to keep him company.” 

“JD-”

“She’s fine,” Bella said softly, rushing ahead to open the door for them and picking up the cat when she tried to sneak past her legs. The woman held up the kitten so Leo could see it and he blinked blearily, clearly feeling too awful to string things together. 

“She’s hungry…”

“I’ll feed her,” Bella vowed and Luke huffed, tightening up his hold on Leo as the blonde started to slip down. 

“Everything is fine here, we’re gonna be back in no time,” Luke promised, dragging him away. Finally they were alone, Jonah and Bella, and Jon let out a breath he didn’t know he was holding. He curled up even more on the couch and almost smiled when JD jumped from Bell’s arms to come pester him.

“That’s some food poisoning,” Bell wrinkled her nose, walking closer, “how you holding up, Jon?”

“Not well,” Jonah leaned his head against the couch’s arm. He didn’t say it out loud, but he felt an immense relief at knowing Leo was on his way to getting fluids. He didn’t think he needed to say anything to Bell, she always seemed to just know.

“Did you throw up the meds?”

“Nope,” he planted a hand on his unsettled, bloated stomach, “but I might.” 

“Well, try not to,” Bella rolled her eyes, then dangled her fingers for JD, “pspspsps, let’s have dinner, poor thing. You must be starving.”

Jonah stayed quiet as he heard Bella move around in the kitchen, serving JD her food and sorting through the mess. He continued to sip on his gatorade, only to find that had been a mistake when a sharp burp brought up a splash of acidic liquid to his throat. 

“Fuck me,” Jon groaned, curling up and trying to massage the burps out of his belly before he ended up wasting all the hard work to keep down his meds. 

“Don’t do that,” Bella circled the coffee table, holding a tall mug filled with coffee for herself. She unceremoniously pushed his leg to the side so they could share the couch and leaned in, slapping Jonah’s hand away from his belly, “let me.”

“Bella…” Jonah’s face burned with embarrassment, which got even worse when she pressed her fingers against his sloshy, bloated belly and it immediately caused a sick burp to erupt.

Bell rolled her eyes, smirking at him, “relax, I promise I’m not gonna tell anyone.”

Jon scoffed, cupping his mouth and belching again, his throat aching with the force behind it, “please.”

“Maybe just Leo,” Bella grinned, sliding her hand over the curve of his sick belly and chuckling when Jonah let out a groan at her threat. 

#mywriting #sickfic #emetophilia #emeto #leo wagner #jonah banks #food poisoning #tummy ache #bellyache #belly rubs #🧋anon

[slippinmickeys]

Happy Birthday to one of my favorite writers!! I hope it was a good one. If you’re still doing drabbles my one word prompt to you is “funfetti” because that is synonymous with birthday imo 🥳

Thank you so much!

Between them, William sleeps fitfully, his scrawny colt-like leg poking out of the covers and twitching into Scully’s ankle. He is almost as tall as she is. Mulder had moved a nightlight into the bedroom when the boy had come in at 2 am, complaining of a sore throat. In the weak light, Scully can see a sheen of fever-sweat over his brow. It’s almost time for Ibuprofen.

He’d shown no tell-tale signs of impending illness earlier in the day, was full of the boundless energy of 9, and had spent the morning holed up with Mulder in the garage tinkering with the old lawnmower. He’d asked for a triple-decker PB&J for lunch and then begged Scully to help him make funfetti cupcakes even though he still had grease under his fingernails. He’d somehow convinced Mulder to let him eat four. If anything she’d have guessed an upset stomach, but here they are with what is likely strep.

From William’s other side Mulder sighs in his sleep, shifting on the narrow bit of mattress not taken over by his son. A moment later, Scully hears the same gentle sigh from William. Then it’s a sniff, then a cough, and then a feeble “Mom?”

“Shh, it’s okay.” She reaches out to feel his forehead, then the soft, taut skin of his back. The fever is still there, but low grade. “It’s time for Ibuprofen,” she says softly, unable to keep herself from sliding her hand up his back to finger the ducktail of hair at the base of his skull.

“Okay,” the boy says. He’s old enough to take pills but still prefers the cherry stuff.

“I’ll get it,” Mulder rumbles, and slides out of bed, coming back a minute later holding the little cup. He clicks on his bedside light then throws a tee shirt over the top of it when Will squints uncomfortably at the brightness.

In the hazy, muted light, the boy sits up and throws back the medicine.

“I have Little League tomorrow.”

Scully glances at the clock. 5:45. He has Little League today.

“I’ll call your coach,” she says, already cataloging the other things she needs to do: schedule an appointment with the pediatrician, call the school, see if Barr can take her 9:00 am autopsy.

“But we’re playing the Blue Jays,” the boy whines. “They need my bat.” His last word is cut off by a short burst of coughing.

“It’s still spring ball, bud,” Mulder says gently. “You guys aren’t going to miss the playoffs if you miss one game.”

“They'll lose without me,” he says sullenly.

The boy is probably right, but arguing the statistical probability of a win or loss of the Farr’s Corner U-10 Tigers without William Mulder’s bat is not something she’s willing to get into before 6:00 am.

“You need to try to get some more sleep,” she says.

The boy settles back into the pillows unhappily.

Mulder turns off the light and pulls on the tee shirt that was covering it and Scully thinks about the bulb-warmed fabric sliding over his skin.

He comes around to her side of the bed and squeezes her elbow with a smile and then shuffles down the dusty hallway toward the kitchen.

Beside her, William turns over and sighs into her arm, his body going gradually limp with sleep. The clock beside her flicks another minute higher, then another.

She smells the warm tang of coffee and the boy beside her shifts and the sky turns the barest pink and the Earth spins, spins, spins.

[giannasturn]

༊*·˚ the cut that always bleeds.. 🩸🩹 M.S

W A R N I N G S: angst, situationship, sex, alcohol, smoking, kinda toxic Matt?, fighting, swearing, no happy ending

S U M M A R Y: friends with benefits with Matt turns into the biggest heartbreak you’ve ever experienced when you catch feelings but he doesn’t.

THIS IS MY WORK, MY IDEA, NO STEALING !!

4 months ago..

“that was fucking amazing” Matt, your best friends brother says. “Yeah it was” you say.

It just kept happening, you would find yourself in his bed almost every night, and you would find yourselves hooking up at every party you showed up to together.

One night, after you guys had hooked up, he asked you if you wanted to be “friends with benefits” you agreed, with no strings attached and the cycle just kept repeating.

Now..

Matt cleans you up with the rag that was already laying on his floor from yesterday, “I think I’m gonna go” you say, as he stands up and throws the rag in the laundry.

“Why?” He asks. Deep down in your head you know why. You cannot lay on his chest while he plays with your hair again, you cannot go on another late drive to get food and have a deep talk together again, you just can’t.

Your heart falls in love with him a little more every time you spend time with him, “i just need to leave” you say.

“Well okay, bye y/n.” He says while kissing your cheek.

You let out a quick “bye” while tying on your shoes and heading out the door.

You get in your car and start heading towards your apartment which you shared with your best friend Ava.

Ava was the only one who knew about your feelings for Matt, and it was gonna stay that way. Right..?

🎶 I can’t be your lover on a leash, every other week when you please. 🎶

“I just can’t do it anymore Ava” you say while eating ice cream sitting on your shared couch. “I wanted nothing more but to just hold him and kiss him but I know if I would, it would just kill me even more.”

“You have to let him go” Ava says, “no no, I can get over these stupid feelings I know I can.” “I just can’t let him go” you say.

You feel a buzz in the pocket of your baggy sweatpants, you grab your phone to see it’s Matt.

“You have to ignore him girl” Ava says. “I know” you say.

No matter how much it pained you you know Ava is right. So you do just that, you ignore him.

Next thing you know you hear your phone start buzzing again, this time Matt is calling you.

You cant help yourself so you pick up.

“Hello?” Matt says with a confused tone in his voice

“Hey” you say.

“Why didn’t you answer my text?” Matt says, sounding almost concerned.

“I just didn’t, why do you care so much” I say.

I dont wanna be rude, but if I wasn’t then I know I would end up just acting like his little side hoe again, and I couldn’t keep doing that.

“Wow someone’s grouchy” he says.

“Matt what do you want, why did you call”

“Why are you getting so upset with me?” Matt says.

“Did I do something”

“Matt just leave me alone.” I say while hanging up.

- - -

🎶 cause you keep me on a rope, and tied a noose around my throat. 🎶

Fuck me. I think to myself, as I stand in this random persons house, at a party I was invited too last minute.

“Cmonnn, you gotta loosen up a bit” Madi says. I know she’s right, but all I wanna do is look for Matt and lay on his chest while his soft gentle fingers run through my hair.

“Maybe you could find someone else to hook up with even” Ava says. “Okay..fineee” I say.

While glancing around the room trying to find someone at least a little attractive, I see Matt with a random blonde tracing his tattoos and giving him “fuck me” eyes.

I move my eyes down a little bit and see his hand on her ass. Fuck, I think to myself.

As the tears start forming at my eyes, I feel my chest start to tighten.

I run through the crowd trying not to make it obvious that I’m upset, until I find a door and open it, only to find 2 random people fucking each other. “Sorry!” I say while storming out.

I find another door and open it, thank god nobody’s in this one. My back hits the door and I slide down it while heavy sobs escape my mouth.

I hear a knock at the door, “hey y/n you in there?” I hear from a familiar voice, Matt’s voice.

I try to stay silent but then once I feel the door push my back foward, I realize that I forgot to lock the door.

“What’s wrong, baby?” The words escape his mouth so easily, yet effect me so much.

“I’m fine, Matt really just leave me alone” I say.

“No, what is wrong? It’s obvious I did something.” He says.

I’m in love with you Matt. I wanna say, but of course, I don’t.

“Did you not fin- fuck y/n you didn’t finish did you.” He says.

“Oh my god Matt yes I fucking finished dumbass” I say.

“I think you just need to loosen up” he says, picking me off the ground gently

Before I know it, he turns me around an slams me against the door

He slowly lifts up my dress with his hands, and moves my underwear to the side.

Without a warning, he inserts 2 fingers into me. “Fuck matt” I say.

“Now.. you wanna tell me what’s wrong?” He says.

“It’s nothing I’m just going through a tough time right now” I say, breathing heavily and trying not to moan.

- - -

🎶you know what your doing when your coming back, and I don’t wanna have another heart attack🎶

He puts my clothing back on, kissing all over my body. “So pretty” he says. “And your all mine” he says. Killing me

“fuck I love you” he says. Killing me.

I agree to go back to his house and hangout for a bit. I knew I shouldn’t, but at the end of the day he is also my best friend and I just missed it.

“you know, i enjoy fucking, but I also just enjoy your presence and hanging out with you.” He says while rubbing my thigh. Killing me.

“Yeah me too” I say. “Then why have you been so distant?” He says. I know I shouldn’t admit anything, but maybe he deserves to know something at least.

“Well when we were at the party earlier, and I saw your hand on that girls ass” “I kinda got upset and I-“ I say before he cuts me off

“Y/n, we never agreed to not seeing other people.” “We are just friends with benefits right?” He says.

“Right.” I say. Killing me

- - -

🎶 but even though your killing me, yeah 🎶

Everything he is doing is killing me. The kisses and praises he leaves all over my body after sex killed me.

Every time I seen him go on a date, or dancing with another girl at a party killed me.

But most importantly, every time he has to remind me that we are just friends kills me.

I know this is not good, I know leaving his house bawling my eyes out was not good for me.

Everyone tells me I need to tell him. My therapist, my friends, even his brothers, which now know about my feelings because I mean come on it’s pretty obvious.

It could be the fact that it’s midnight, or the fact that that I smoked 2 j’s, but i think its time to tell him.

I get into my car, put some music on and before I can think I start driving.

- - -

I arrive at his door, and immediately knock. Nick & Chris don’t stay up that late but Matt does so Matt answers the door.

“Hey y/n, you didn’t tell me you were coming”

“I know” I say. “Can I come in?”

“Yeah sure” he says. Opening the door wider for me to come in.

We arrive to his room, and the tension is high. He can tell something’s off, and my heart is pounding out of my chest.

“Y/n what the fuck is wrong?” “You ignore me, and then we have sex and you don’t let me even hold you!”

“I don’t fucking understand, you say your going through a tough time but you don’t tell me anything!” He says.

“Matt it’s cause I’m fucking in love with you.” I say.

…. The silence is a unbearable amount of loud and the air becomes even more tense if that’s possible

“Every time you kiss me it kills me because I know we won’t ever be able to do that without fucking.”

“Every time you hold me, it kills me because I know your just doing it because you just nearly took my ability to walk away.”

“Every time you call me yours it kills me because I know that I’m not, and I never will be”

“I thought maybe if I ignored you it would get better and these feelings would pass but the more I ignored you the more it hurt and I couldn’t take it anymore” I say.

“I can’t just fucking be your lover when you want me to be, and then see you eye fucking a ton of other girls at parties” I say

“You don’t deserve this, you don’t deserve me. I caught feelings and this is all my fault.”

“But I also don’t deserve this, I don’t deserve to feel like I’m getting stabbed anytime I come near you.” I say while leaving his room and slamming the door on my way out.

My chest feels tighter then it ever has, but I also somehow feel relieved. I finally let it out, I don’t feel so locked up anymore.

I run out of the house ignoring all of the “y/n wait!” “Y/n comeback” s that come out of his mouth.

- - -

🎶 beat my heart to black and blue 🎶

When I arrive home, I walk in sobbing and Immediately drop to the floor.

“Oh my god y/n what happened” Ava says.

I am on the verge of passing out, everything around me is tuned out and my eyes are blurry, quite frankly I don’t know how I survived the drive home. I felt light headed and like I was about to puke.

“Y/n stay with me, everything’s going to be okay” Ava says.

- - -

Everything from that night is a blur. I know what happened and I know what I did, but all the details are erased from my brain.

My room reeks of alcohol, weed, and just disgustingness considering I haven’t cleaned my room, nor got out of my bed for 4 days.

I haven’t gotten any messages from Matt, he hasn’t came here, he’s just gone.

There’s been music blaring in my room for 3 hours straight, the songs going from sad, to chill, to hype music where I start convincing myself I’m over it until it turns back into sad music again.

“The cut that always bleeds” by Conan Grey turns on, and I immediately turn it all the way up.

This song can explain me and Matt’s relationship more then I can, and I can’t listen to it without bawling my eyes out.

“Oooh, oooh, but even though your killing me” I sing while my head lays back on my headboard

Tears start streaming down my face, Matt’s shirt I haven’t token off for 4 days getting soaked from my tears.

“I need you like the air I breath”

“I need, I need you more than me.”

No matter how much I don’t wanna admit it, I need Matt more then anything. I need his hands rubbing all over me, i need his lips against mine, I need our hands interlinked. I need him………

…. The end.

A/N, this is my 2nd fic ever, I think this fic is way better then my 1st one, but I still don’t know if I would consider it good, anywho I love the cut that always bleeds but I can’t listen to it without crying so I thought why not make a fic about it!! I love angst and couldn’t wait to write it so I did just that. Hope you enjoyed!! 😋😋

TAGLIST:

@bernardsbendystraws comment if u wanna be added !!

#Spotify #sturniolo triplets #chris sturniolo #nick sturniolo #fandom #fanfic #tumblr fyp #matt sturniolo #christopher sturniolo #matthew sturniolo #conan grey #sturniolo fanfic #giannasturn

[isa-ah]

what a fucking awful experience

#the cop outright lied on the phone about why my ID was confiscated and almost charged me another $40 for a new one #she called me sir when i sat down then realized i was there bc my male ID got taken away and she started using she #but she would drop her voice every time she misgendered me so my phone sitting on the counter recording couldnt hear her do it #there was a full lobby when i got there and they held me until literally everyone else had been cleared out #and then every cop at every desk came over and stood Around Me while i sat at her desk waiting. and waiting. and waiting. #it was just. nasty.blikr they were putting me in a situation to goad me into arguing #why else would they hsve taken up that posture Around Me. and made me wait for 30+ minutes for a supervisor #even fucking worse i wasnt the only one there getting harassed #the last other person they saw was this like 20yo dude who had the tall gangly thing going on #and 2 of the 40smtn cops were going back and forth hooting and carrying on about how skinny and hot he was #and the dude was so fucking uncomfortable it was palpable. lo came in as he left snd said his face was pale and upset #and thank fucking christ lo came in bc otherwise it would have just been my stupid tranny ass sititng there with a ring of cops around me #i get my female ID soon so we can finally get our fucking passports together at least #god. nightmare. nightmare that was awful #my mil bought me tacos on the way home and theyre in fucking flour tortillas i want to DIE

[cerbreus]

had a trainwreck of an in person consult for my sleeve tattoo yesterday only made better by the itty bitty yorkie shop dog adoring me and sitting on my lap the whole time.

#also chatting with my partner after ofc i felt so much better tysm chris ♥ #but yeah it was not great #it was supposed to be on friday #but she changed it last minute saying she was too busy can we do it the next day at 5 instead? yeah fine #kinda disappointing she didn't tell me in time to like do smth with friends i was invited to but had to opt out of bc of the consult #but whatever #get there early text her that i'm there. stand out side. in the rain. for 15 minutes. she didn't see the text. she didn't see me outside. #in fact.. she was in the middle of tattooing somebody. the client noticed me after 15 minutes and finally let her know. #she comes over all suspicious like. cracks the door and asks 'who are you?what do you want' #even after i say i have a consultation at 5 she didn't remember it was HER who had the consult. i had to rattle off all the details for her #to finally remember it was HER consult and say 'oh i completely forgot about that' #finally get let in and sit down and. she then spends the next couple minutes profusely apologizing to the other client. saying like #'ohhh im so sorry i completely forgot i had a consult scheduled.... i'll get this over with quick' which. well. :( #finally start going through it. she doesn't remember anything about the tattoo. not that it was a sleeve. not what elements were in it. :( #i wasn't expecting a sketch or anything but. even just having re-read the emails before the consult would have... been nice.... #after she does that she says 'oh we didn't really need an in person consultation' which is also. :( because she suggested it. #i get a whole like 5 minutes to rehash stuff we already went over in emails including her not remembering i'd put down a deposit AND we had #3 sessions scheduled already.... and it needs another 2 sessions which i wish she'd told me about because she's booked so far out my last #session might not be until. may. #i didn't even get to ask any questions! i wanted to ask! like does she use saniderm? (i can't have that on my skin) #does she want other things for a tip than just cash? (absolutely not offering that now) has she dealt with KP before? are there any things #she wants me to bring to the sessions? (they're gonna be long) #and then i'm rushed out the door and sitting in my car in the rain and just absolutely fucking crushed #and feeling bad that i feel so bad because like. is it entitled of me to think that like. #maybe if u have a client paying u thousands of dollars to design & tattoo their sleeve tattoos.... you'd like.... treat them like a client #i was so excited about my sleeve i was so fucking psyched and now im. not. at all. #i'm worried about what if she forgets about my appts? what if she books over my appts like she already did with just my consult? #and i'm left hanging trying to get things scheduled in so so so so late like i'm some second rate flaky walk in.... #i guess it could have gone worse

[butterflies-and-bumble-bees]

it has been a day

#i want to scream into a pillow and cry #did i learn from the last time i had coffee??? noooooo #i draank two cups and nearly broke down during art class #cause the tidy good artist kid and and the hyper all over the place ADHD kid #have decided to become mortal enemies since we made them sit at ther same table #and the head art teacher doesn't want to change it #because she thinks they should learn to get along #so i have to listen to them argue as only children on the cusp of middleschool can #and then grab a different adult to take care of it cause i empathise too strongly with both of them to be the bad cop #...i should save this so i can reference it while trauma dumping on my therapist tomorrow #and also my cat escaped like 2 minutes when i came home and i have spent the last hour debating wheter i should try and catch him\ #or just let him be #and now i have to leave in 15 min for another thing #AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA

[pibsboots]

I've always had chronic fatigue. I remember being twelve, and an adult mentioned how I couldn't possibly know how tired they felt because adulthood brought levels of exhaustion I couldn't imagine. I thought about that for days in fear, because I couldn't remember the last time I didn't feel tired.

Eventually I came to terms with the fact that I was just tired, and I couldn't do as many things as everyone else. People called me lazy, and I knew that wasn't true, but there's only so many times you can say "I'm tired" before people think it's an excuse. I don't blame them. When a teenager does 20 hours of extracurriculars every week and only says "I'm too tired" when you ask them to do the dishes, it's natural to think it's an excuse. At some point, I started to think the same thing.

It didn't matter that I could barely sit up. It was probably all in my head, and if I really wanted to, I could do it.

When I learned the name for it, chronic fatigue, I thought wow, people that have that must be miserable, because I am always tired and I cannot imagine what it would feel like if it were worse.

Spoiler alert, if you've been tired for a decade, it's probably chronic fatigue.

Once I figured that out though, I thought of my energy as the same as everyone else's, just smaller in quantity. And that might be true for some people, but I've figured out recently that it absolutely isn't true for me.

I used to be like wow I have so much energy today I can do this whole list for sure! And then I'd do the dishes and have to lay down for 2 hours. Then I'd think I must gave misjudged that, I didn't have as much energy as I thought.

But the thing is - I did have enough energy for more tasks, I just didn't go about them properly.

With chronic fatigue, your maximum energy is obviously much smaller than the average person's. Doing the dishes for you might use up the same percentage of energy that it takes to do all the daily chores for someone else.

If someone without chronic fatigue was to do all the daily chores, they would take breaks. Because otherwise, they're sprinting a marathon for no reason and it would take way more energy than necessary. We have to do the same.

Put the cups in the dishwasher, take a break. Put the bowls in, take a break. So on and so forth. This may mean taking breaks every 2-5 minutes but afterwards, you get to not feel like you've run a marathon while carrying 4 people on your back.

Today, I had a moderate amount of energy. Under my old system of go till you drop, I probably could have done most of the dishes and wiped off the counter and then been dead to the world for the rest of the day.

Under the new system, I scooped litter boxes, cleaned out the fridge, took the trash out, cleaned the stove, and wiped off the counter and did all the dishes. And after all that, I still had it in me to make a simple dinner, unload the dishwasher, and tidy the kitchen.

It was complete and utter insanity. Just because I sat down whenever I felt myself getting more tired than I already was.

All this to say, take fucking breaks. It's time to unlearn the ceaseless productivity bullshit that capitalism has shoved down our throats. Its actively counterproductive. Just sit down. Drink some water. Rest your body when it needs to rest.

There will still be days where there is nothing to do but rest, and days where half a load of dishes is absolutely the most I can do. But this method has really helped me minimize those, which is so incredibly relieving.

#chronic illness #chronic fatigue #chronic pain

[libbyfandom]

Drunk Modern!Mizu with a Breeding Kink

(((Yup. I don't know what to title this short fic other than that. I let the demons win.)))

(((This turned out to have a bit of spice, a bit of fluff, a bit of my sense of humor. I will say it doesn't get smutty smutty but Mizu sure has a mouth on her. And she's determined.)))

You’re shooing Taigen and Akemi out of your apartment with a tipsy giggle at 2 am. Akemi turns and squeezes you in a warm hug. “Good night, doll! See you later!”

Taigen flashes you a peace sign before Akemi leads him, swaying and all, toward their Uber to take them away.

You watch them climb inside the car before closing the door and locking up for the night. You head into the kitchen, picking up the last of the beer bottles and tossing them in the trash.

You head into the living room where you last left Mizu, only to find her sprawled out on the floor with an arm thrown across her eyes. There’s a pink flush across the middle of her face.

“Too much whiskey, sweetheart?” you chuckle as you approach her.

“Fucking Taigen,” she mumbled, trying to angrily growl but it just sounds slurred and tired. “Fucking…drinking contest.”

You crawl over her, sitting on her hips. You do have to move carefully though, you’re just a wee bit unsteady from the amount of alcohol in your own system. “You could’ve just said no,” you hum.

Mizu remains silent. She’s probably telling herself she won’t grace your soft snark with an answer, but it’s actually cause she really doesn’t have a comeback for that.

Her arm lifts slightly higher, and she squints down at you. Her eyes drift to where you’re sitting atop her hips. Her legs shift under you.

She’s… really staring intensely at how you’re sitting on her.

You start to lift yourself up on your knees. “You good? Does it hurt?”

Mizu frowns as your weight leaves her. “No,” she says, and grabs your hips to pull you back down. “...It’s nothing.”

But you know that look. She gets it every time Taigen got under her skin about something.

“Nothing? Like a “just thinking” nothing or a “Taigen pissed in your metaphorical thinking cereal” nothing?”

Mizu’s nose scrunches up in disgust. “What?”

You press your hands to Mizu’s chest, bouncing a little for emphasis. “What. Did. He. Saaaaay?”

Your tone and actions were meant to be lighthearted, but something flashes in Mizu’s eyes when you bounce yourself on her hips. Her eyes flash back down to where you’re sitting. Her hands instinctively grab your hips to still your movement. The pink flush across her cheeks and nose seem to darken. “Fuck,” slips out from between her lips. She shakes her head. “S’ just being stupid and gross.”

You noted that little change in her voice. “Like what?”

Her thumbs run over the jut of your hips. “Some girl he hooked up with. Talking about how she had an IUD and let him cum inside.”

You sigh, “Jesus Christ, of course.”

“He’s gross.”

She keeps shifting her hips under you. “Are you sure you don’t need me to get up-?” You start lifting yourself again.

“Stop moving,” she says, and the flush on her cheeks doesn’t die down. She tries to look annoyed, but you can tell the minuscule differences in her expressions. That’s a pout more than a scowl.

You laugh breathlessly. “What’s got you so worked up?” You tap her totally not pouting lip.

She grunts, grumbling a little as her hands massage where they’re gripping your hips.

“Don’t be all huffy with me. Tell me,” you coax with a grin, your own tipsy flush complimenting your wide smile.

She rolls her head back against the carpet and is silent for a minute.

The amount of whiskey currently killing her liver is the only reason her inhibitions are loose enough to say it.

She mumbles something.

“Mizu-“

“I wanna do that.”

Your eyebrows raise into your hairline, lips parting with surprise. You need to clarify just in case you're misunderstanding. “You want to-?”

“I want to cum inside you.”

The raspiness of her voice is even grittier from the whiskey.

Holy shit.

Her irises are darker than normal, the bright blue having more the tint of stormy waters.

And whether it’s the liquid courage or Mizu’s determination to barrel through things to push through her fears, she keeps going.

Her hands are heavy as the slide up your sides. “I want to have something that I can slip inside you-“

Your heart is pounding harder in your chest from her words, her actions, the heat of her frustrated gaze. “You have several strap ons-“ you joke, but your voice is weak and airy.

“I want to feel you from the inside.” She makes a frustrated grunt, “I don’t want plastic. I want to feel you wrapped around something other than my fingers. I want to stretch you out-“

Her palms dig into your stomach. Her blue eyes flick up and meet yours, and you almost fall back away from her with how much unfiltered desire is in them. Her own breath is shallow, you can see how silently but rapidly her chest is rising and falling.

“I want there to be risk that I forget to pull out.”

Holy shIT-

“Mizu-MIZU-!”

Her hips bucked, throwing you higher up her waist with her strength. Your hands fly out to catch yourself, and your fingers hit her shoulders as she’s suddenly sitting up, face inches from yours. She’s supporting your weight in this position, hands and feet flat on the floor as you’re the unsteady one in so many ways. She looks irritated, like when she can’t bend something to her will no matter how much work she pours into it. But she also looks slightly mournful. Genuinely upset.

And very, VERY drunk.

She looks up at you with furrowed eyebrows. “I wanna see it dripping out.”

You gasp loudly as her teeth snap into your neck. It’s not a love bite, it’s possessive. It’s stinging.

But Mizu, being the complex and non one-note person she is, does let go and licks at the reddened skin in apology. “I want to leave myself behind. Inside you.” She nuzzles her nose below your ear, huffing.

Your brain is just on lag, taking several moments to catch up with each of her revealed desires. “And…” you swallow the saliva pooling in your mouth. “And if you got me knocked up on accident?”

Her arms squeeze tightly around you, burying her face in your shoulder. She’s silent for a heart pounding moment, you can actually FEEL her heart pounding with yours.

Her lips drag along the skin behind your ear. Her voice is low, dark. “Wouldn’t be an accident.”

Someone needs to take whiskey away from this woman. Or give it to her more. You’ll decide if you survive this encounter.

“Mizu-“ you don’t even know how to finish that sentence. You’re just… you don’t even know. You think you hear a faint ringing in your ears.

Her left hand dig into your side, gripping the fabric of your shirt. “Would you keep it?” she asks so softly.

“I-“ your brain is still on that fucking LAG.

Her breathing is slow, shuddering against your ear. “I wouldn’t make you, if you didn’t want to-“ she sounds so pained to say it your heart squeezes. You actually forget for a moment that that’s never gonna be an issue for you two.

Her grip on your shirt relaxes, before curling the fabric between her fingers tighter, clinging to you. “I’d just… beg for you to think about it,” she makes a wounded sound.

You swallow again, throat clicking. You’re becoming aware of a heat low in your abdomen growing warmer and warmer.

She holds you tighter against her, and her hips start rhythmically rolling up against yours like she’s mimicking how far she’d push inside to get what she wants. She’d work so hard for it, putting in all her time and energy and her unwavering determination-

“It’s selfish,” she’s murmuring against your skin, warm lips having traveling down to your neck. “But I’m selfish. I want it. I want it so much. I want to know there’s a little us-“ one hand goes between your bodies, fingertips pressed up under your naval like she’s obsessed. Her voice is strained. “I want to know it’s inside you. They’re inside you. I want to know they’re safe and warm. You’d keep them so warm. You’re always warm-“

You have never, in your life, ever heard Mizu babbling like this.

SHE’S STILL ROLLING HER HIPS UNDER YOU.

You finally grab her face with both hands in a rare moment of clarity to still her, forcing her head up to look at you in this haze of body heat radiating from her, from you, radiating everywhere between your bodies.

“Baby.”

Her head lolls back, looking up at you and oh my god. She is just gone. Her red cheek flush has spread to her whole face. Her lips are wet and parted, breath now audibly heavy. Her eyes, her eyes, her gorgeous blue eyes are now a storm. A dark, hot storm.

“Let me put a baby in you, dove,” her voice is strangled, slurred worse than you’ve ever heard as her half lidded eyes gaze at you.

Jesus, she’s bringing out the rare pet nickname she’s so desperate.

And just when you think Mizu is done shocking your system with this new side of her, her expression crumbles into the saddest thing you’ve ever seen.

“Please?”

She’s pleading.

What the fuck was in her whiskey?!

“I’ll-I’ll take care of the two of you. Keep you safe. Just let me- just let me-“ she lifts her hips up under you again, as if trying to tempt you into it. She hiccups. “Just spread your legs and I’ll do all the work.”

With strength she should not have while she’s absolutely smashed, she lunges forward, shoving you to the carpet with your legs spread around her waist. Her hot breath fans over your face, tinted with whiskey. She wets her lips. “Have my baby. Say yes.” Her hips press down into yours again. She whispers your name.

You’re tempted to say yes, despite still being sober enough to remember the logistics of this. She makes a very persuasive case. And it’s not just cause she’s grinding into you like she’s warming up to do it.

"Say yes..."

Click!

You both slowly look up (you more tilting your head back) as the front door opens and Mizu’s roommate Ringo comes in. He freezes in the doorway, seeing Mizu crouched over you in a very interesting position with your legs still spread by her thighs.

She scowls at him. “You said you weren’t coming back tonight!” She sways over you.

Ringo blinks. “Mom has Bingo in the morning,” he says innocently. “… did something happen?”

“She’s pregnant,” Mizu hiccups, before passing out atop you without warning, shoving a strangled noise out of your chest as you yell for Ringo’s help.

“Oh? Congratulations!”

“….Wait…?”

“RINGO HELP!”

In the morning, Mizu drags herself into the living room looking like she was just brought back from the dead, face drained of color and eyes squinting at the light behind her tinted glasses.

“Hi baby,” you greet her softly, cautiously as you watch her head to the kitchen, aiming for the coffee pot.

“Hi,” she groans. “I’m never fucking doing a drinking contest with that bastard again.”

You nod, “That sounds good."

You pause, "Do you remember anything from last night?”

She shrugs as she passes you. “Barely.” She disappears into the kitchen.

“Oh,” you turn toward her retreating back, propping your chin in your hand as you lean against the back of the couch. You wait until she’s out of sight to oh so innocent call out “I wanted to ask about how you were begging to impregnate me.”

Several loud crashes in the kitchen.

#mizu x reader #blue eye samurai x reader #mizu #blueeyesamurai #mizu blue eye samurai #mizu smut

[tacticaldiary]

A Fighting Chance

Pairing: Simon 'Ghost' Riley x Reader

Genre: Hurt/Comfort

"When was the last time you kissed me and meant it?" Her voice drops into something akin to defeat.

And Simon...Simon feels like the rug's been pulled from under his feet.

Part 2, Masterlist,

"What're those?"

"Papers."

Ghost pauses halfway through opening the document, glancing up at the curtness of her voice. "Papers? She doesn't meet his eyes, gaze fixed on the table of the little booth they're sitting in.

The ice in her drink is long gone, watering down her coffee into something that tastes as bitter as her heart.

It had taken months for her to finally make this decision. Days of talking with her lawyer, crying alone at night and coming to the gruelling acceptance that this was for the best. It was best for both of them.

There's not many things that unsettle Simon. He's had blood stain his hands; his own, his comrades, and his enemies. Had almost any injury you could think of marring his skin, been prodded and ripped into, been the one on the opposite end of the knife.

But as he slides out the documents, turns them over, Simon's never felt more apprehensive.

He stills, reading the first few lines, clenching his jaw. "What is this?"

"I want a divorce."

And something in him crumbles at her defeated tone. Like she's already decided. Like he doesn't even have a chance to ask why or talk it through.

"No." He says tightly, putting them down and crossing his arms.

Her gaze shoots to his. "You can't just say that."

"I did. I won't sign them."

"I want this." She argues, and Simon swallows back the lump in his throat at how utterly tired she looks.

"I don't."

She's the light of his life, the one good, untouched piece of joy he gets to see. Something other than the bloodshed and violence he lives in.

"Simon," She says, shoulders sagging forward. "I can't do this anymore."

"This isn't the solution, love." He feels like his skin is crawling, the beginnings of unfamiliar panic clawing at his chest when she doesn't react to the pet name.

Doesn't smile, doesn't flush that beautiful red, doesn't squirm.

When she doesn't respond again, tight-lipped and clammed up and so determined to not look at him, he asks the question burning a hole through his tongue.

"Why?"

Deep down he knows. Knew this was coming but that part of him is buried under the thudding of his heart, and the rush of blood in his ears. Everything feels deathly still and moving too fast at the same time.

"Why?" She repeats, something in her stirring at the question. Her brow furrows and she switches from a cautious indifference to disbelief and frustration quicker than Simon can process. "Are you serious?" She huffs out an incredulous laugh. "You're away for months at a time and I'm supposed to what? Wait for you at our doorstep and wag my tail all happy when you finally come back to me?" Her grip tightens on her drink.

"Even when you are home, it's never about us. Never about me and you. You lock yourself in your study with your work, don't talk to me unless you come out for dinner or lunch. When was the last time we went out?" She demands. "When was the last time we went on a date? The last time we slept at the same time in the same bed?"

Simon clenches his jaw but says nothing, at a loss for words. It only encourages her to keep going, spewing thoughts that have been boiling over for the past few years.

"You barely look at me when we're home, I had to drag you out of the house to get here! You left halfway through our anniversary dinner last year because work called you in. Sometimes...sometimes I feel like you're only with me because it's easier than leaving and starting over, and that fucking hurts. It hurts when you can't bear to spend five minutes with me away from work. I've been telling you this for ages but you just...you don't listen to me." She leans forward, drink completely forgotten and hits the final nail in the coffin.

"When was the last time you kissed me and meant it?" Her voice drops into something akin to defeat.

And Simon...Simon feels like the rug's been pulled from under his feet.

"I never even know if you're coming home to me." Her voice cracks, and she hugs her middle, taking a deep breath to steady herself. "So yes, Simon, I want to separate. I'm not happy, not like I was when I met you." A sheen of tears she refuses to let fall.

"You can focus on work like you love to, and I can...I can move on."

It was so good when they started out. She found him endearing, dry humour and brooding and all. It was special, those first few years, and she'll always care about him but this...this waiting, this hurting, laying in bed at night alone and cold and crying...it wasn't right. It wasn't what she wanted and she wouldn't force Simon to want it when he clearly didn't want to.

"Fucking hell, I love you." Simon says quickly, stumbling over what to say. He reaches out for her hand on the table, but she pulls it away before he can grab it. It stings more than he can convey, makes the reality crashes down onto him.

He's about to lose her.

Because he couldn't fucking bear to pull himself out of being 'Ghost'.

It was always a rough couple of weeks during his leave. The adjustment to civilian life was a slow one for him, but that's not really an excuse at all.

"I don't think you do."

Simon blinks at her like she's slapped him. "You...you don't think so?" He repeats, running a hand through his hair. She nods, one nod, quick and so sure that it makes his chest ache.

Fuck. He's absolutely messed up.

"Everything's finalised on my end." She says. "You just need to sign them." Her voice is soft, almost like she's coaxing him.

If there's one thing he knows, it's that he's not touching those fucking papers. He's not losing someone he loves again.

"I'll take time off." He says, the intensity of his gaze makes a shiver run down her spine. "We can work through it, yeah? You can't spring this on me and not give me a chance to protest."

She shakes her head, "You're only taking time off because I'm upset." She tries to explain. "What do you think is going to happen? We spend a month together doing what we used to, and when everything's a little more stable you leave again. Distance yourself. Shut me out. Then we're back to square one."

"Won't happen." He says like he hasn't been doing it for the past few years already. "You...I can't lose you, darling." He leans forward. "Let me make it better. Give me a few months-"

"Simon-"

"A week."

"A week?" Her eyes widen. "A week to...what, prove that you'll change?"

"One week."

She worries her lip between her teeth, considering. One week wasn't a long time, but hope was dangerous in a situation like this.

"I'm not letting you go over something like this." Simon says. "I can't."

"This isn't about you." She crosses her arms. "You really think you can turn just...reverse the past few years in a week?" Maybe it's foolish of her to want him to say yes, to fight for her and realise that she's been hurting, but goddamn doesn't a small part of her scream at him to do it anyway.

"Not trying to reverse it." He folds his arms, and she can see the tense line of his shoulders as he takes in the situation, gears turning in his head as he plans how he's going to work his way out of a situation so precious and daunting as this.

Part of him didn't think it would ever come to this. Yes, he can be cold and aloof but Simon thought she knew that he loved her through it all. No matter what.

When was the last time you kissed me and meant it?

Fuck if that doesn't tear through his chest more painfully than any caliber bullet ever could.

He takes her in quietly for a moment.

The woman he fell in love with. The person that gave him a reason to keep going, a motive to feel anything other than the cold efficientness of loading a gun and firing. Soft touches and warm smiles, something so at odds with the rough life he's used to.

Sitting there in front of him, she looks more beautiful than he remembers, and it only proves to make his stomach sink like a stone at the notion of seeding any doubt about his feelings in her heart.

A right fucking bastard he was for it.

"I'm sorry." He breathes out, much softer than the gruff voice he's been using with her. "I'll do better. Just give me a chance, yeah?"

For one horrible moment, Simon thinks she'll decline. That she'll slide over the papers again and demand he sign them.

But she considers his words for a moment before nodding once.

And it's all he needs.

A fighting chance.

Reblog, Like and Comment!

Part 2

(11/10/2023)

#ghost cod #cod mw ghost #ghost call of duty #ghost modern warfare #ghost mw2 #ghost simon riley #ghost x reader #cod ghost #mw2 ghost #simon ghost riley x reader #simon ghost riley x you #simon ghost x reader #simon ghost riley #simon riley x reader #simon riley x you #call of duty modern warfare 2 #modern warfare x reader #angst #x reader #x y/n #fluff #simon riley #simon riley fluff #simon riley imagine #call of duty modern warfare #call of duty modern warfare ii #modern warfare #cod modern warfare #modern warfare 2 #modern warfare ii

[ellemj]

Flustered: Part 2 (FINAL)

Bucky Barnes x Female Reader Two-Part Fic: SMUT

Request by @aryarcharon: enemies to lovers, fuckboy!Bucky, praise kink.

Summary: You might be able to fuck away a crush but you can't fuck away an obsession.

Warnings: profanity, fuckboy!Bucky, size kink, praise kink, oral sex (female receiving), kinda threat with a belt in the bedroom but nothing happens, unprotected sex, MINORS DNI, 18+!!!

Word Count: 3.9k

A/N: I hope this meets some expectations lmao, I get nervous when the first part of a series or two-part thing gets a lot of attention. Also to the people who have randomly tipped me, BLESS YOU 🥹🖤 I actually cry a little when I get those notifs.

Fucking someone, anyone but you, is what Bucky needs tonight. It’s what he’s needed every night since he met you honestly, but especially tonight. The dangerous game that the two of you have been playing has left Bucky with a feeling similar to that of climbing Mount Everest. The longer the climb goes on, the harder it gets for him to breathe. God, it feels like his lungs are trapped at a high altitude every minute that he’s around you at this point. So, Bucky will be skipping the monthly team game night to fuck a girl he met two days ago.

He pulls his leather jacket over his arms and shoves the key to his bike in his pocket as he gives himself one last look in the mirror. The tiniest seed of doubt presents itself in his mind as he meets his own gaze in the mirror. Fucking someone else won’t fix this. Fucking someone else might put a crush out of one’s mind…but this is more than a crush. As Bucky stands there, staring at himself, the realization comes crashing in like a damn freight train running off of its rails. This is obsession.

If Bucky’s breathing can be compared to the struggle of oxygenation at a high altitude, then your breathing can be compared to taking one’s first natural breath after a successful lung transplant. Every time you say something to get under his skin, every time you watch his smirk fall away and his chest rise and fall a little faster, you suddenly feel like you’re standing outside, taking in a breath of cool, crisp autumn air. The dirty little game between the two of you is simultaneously ruining Bucky’s life and giving you life.

________________

         “Hey, you’re staying for game night?” Sam’s voice rings out as Bucky steps into the main living area, where the entire team is gathered both on the couch and the nearby floor. The entire team except for you, he notices, as he scans the group.

         “I have somewhere to be.” Bucky answers gruffly, coming to stand next to the end of the couch where Sam sits.

         “Hot date?” Sam jokes, giving him a quick once-over. As soon as he sees the leather jacket, he knows he’s either taking the bike out to wherever he’s going, or he’s going on a mission. Sam is positive it’s the former, because if it was the latter, he’d know about it.

         “Always.” Bucky says with a smirk, shoving Sam’s shoulder. As the rest of the team begins chatting amongst themselves, Bucky catches himself looking around for you. Are you out tonight? Do you have a date? Bucky’s jaw clenches as he briefly envisions you dressing up for your trainer and sitting down to have a meal with him. You had better fucking not.

         “Heading out?” The unexpected sound of your voice breaks Bucky out of his moment of mental weakness and he turns around quickly, coming to face you. You must’ve been in your room, he thinks, since you came from the direction of the hallway. Of course his obsessive mind would assume that you went out with the piece of shit who thinks you’re as fragile as a damn butterfly. “That’s too bad, I was really looking forward to kicking your ass tonight.”

         “Oh, I’m not going anywhere, sweetheart.” Bucky says calmly, staring into your eyes as the room grows quiet.

         “But I thought—” Sam begins repeating Bucky’s earlier claim that he had somewhere to be, but he’s quickly cut off by Bucky shooting him a look that says something along the lines of say one more word and watch what happens. “Oh, right, your date is tomorrow night, not tonight.” Sam recovers with a lie. After one look at you, Bucky abandoned his plan to fuck away his feelings. You brush past him to take a seat on the floor by the coffee table, and as your arm collides with the fabric of his leather jacket, all he can think about is the image of a freight train careening off the rails and going up in a fiery blaze. Obsession. His obsession with you is going to be his undoing, he’s sure of it.

______

          The team game night was significantly more intense than normal with both you and Bucky being present. Well, it wasn’t just the fact that you were both in attendance for once. It was the fact that you were both so set on showing one another up. The entire night basically turned into a cut-throat duel, with cards and game pieces instead of knives and guns.

         You stand in the living area alone now, stacking up all of the game boxes on the coffee table as you listen to the soft sound of the kitchen faucet running. After all of your back and forth arguing and shit-giving, you and Bucky were forced to take the cleanup duty yourselves, as restitution. You thought Bucky would continue on with the act once everyone went their separate ways for bed, but you were utterly surprised when he offered to take the kitchen cleanup and leave you only to handle the games. It was as if whatever competitive, teasing switch he had that had been turned on all night was suddenly turned off once he had you alone.

         Bucky rinses off the last dish in the sink, watching intently as the suds run down his vibranium fingers and into the drain. With every dish he washed, he imagined his obsession going down the drain with the suds. It was almost therapeutic, until he sensed you stepping into the kitchen behind him. He stiffened instantly as the hairs on the back of his neck stood up.

         You stand still as Bucky turns off the faucet and sets the final clean dish in the drying rack. You don’t really know why you decided to approach him. You could’ve gone to bed once you finished putting the games away, but your feet carried you in the opposite direction. So, now here you are, staring at the defined muscles of his back through his taut shirt.

         “What’s up with you?” You ask quietly, leaning back against the island a couple of feet behind Bucky. You realize you’re in similar positions as the night you figured out that he has a size kink, except you’ve switched places.

         “What do you mean?” He answers your question with his own as he towels his hands dry and turns around to mirror your position. He leans back against the front of the sink as he looks you over carefully. You’re suddenly entranced by the way he meticulously dries in every little crevice of his vibranium arm, as if he’s done it thoroughly a thousand times before, as if it’s a routine. When he notices you staring at the action, that familiar smirk returns to his face. “You don’t know how to act around me when I’m not fucking around with you, do you?” He asks in a near condescending tone. You narrow your eyes as you raise them to meet his gaze. When you don’t say anything in response, Bucky continues his work with the towel, warring within himself. He knows he shouldn’t keep going like this. He should leave right now and spend the night with any other woman underneath him so he can bury whatever it is that he feels about you. But the next words leave his lips anyway. “You miss it, don’t you? You can’t stand not having my attention, even for five minutes.”

         “Bullshit. You’re too damn cocky for your own good.” You huff, crossing your arms over your chest. You don’t make a move to leave the kitchen, and Bucky takes note of that.

         “And you’re a tease. Which is worse?” Bucky asks. He begins carefully folding the towel, slower than you’ve ever seen him do anything. You’re mesmerized by his hands.

         “I’m not a tease.”

         “Bullshit.” Bucky calls out, setting the towel on the countertop beside him.

         “I’m not.”

         Bucky exhales slowly as he pushes away from the sink and straightens up before you. The look he gives you sends an icy shiver down your spine.

         “Good girls don’t lie.”

______

         To you, the next two minutes were a blur. The only thing that registered in your mind was a brief, fleeting thought of not giving a fuck and punching Bucky in his smug face. Your legs had the right idea when they rushed forward, carrying you straight toward him, but the rest of your body betrayed you and somehow you ended up kissing him.

         Bucky didn’t even return your kiss at first. He stood there, completely stunned, as your soft lips met his. It took two seconds before his senses were able to convince his body that this was actually happening, and then he lost every ounce of control. The days of back and forth teasing, the innuendos, the lingering glance, it all came together like a pile of firewood and combusted right there in the kitchen. Bucky’s right hand tangled in your hair like it was instinct. As his palm connected with the nape of your neck, he gave your hair a gentle tug and earned himself a sweet moan that traveled from your mouth, straight into his.

         He was fucked.

         Now, Bucky’s heart is beating out of his chest as he watches you step into his dark bedroom in front of him. He can hear his blood rushing in his ears as he turns around and pushes the door shut, turning the lock into place and then taking a deep breath. Obsession. He has you in his fucking bedroom. He started out the night telling himself to go fuck another woman and now he has you right where he’s always wanted you.

         His room smells just like him. It’s dark, but not so dark that you can’t make out his neatly made bed and distinct lack of decor in the space. You’re suddenly aware of the reason why he never brings women here, always choosing to meet them elsewhere instead. The place could be mistaken for a hotel room, without a single personal memento or hint that a person actually lives here. You can feel Bucky’s eyes on you as you take in the new setting. When you turn around to face him, he’s leaning against the door.

         “You don’t have a single picture in here.” You point out casually, as if you didn’t just jump the man three minutes ago and then follow him to his bedroom for god knows what. Bucky keeps his eyes trained on yours.

         “That’s what you’re thinking about right now?” He asks, cocking his head to the side.

         “Among other things, yeah.” You admit, walking backwards until you feel the edge of his mattress against the backs of your knees. You sink down onto it, maintaining eye contact through the dark space around you.

         “Other things…” Bucky mumbles. He runs a hand through his hair and for a second, he almost looks unsure of himself.

         “You were so cocky just five minutes ago.” You tsk, shaking your head. “I didn’t expect Bucky Barnes, the ultimate man-whore, to have performance issues.” Your words could’ve gone in either one of two very different directions. You could’ve hit a sensitive spot of his and turned him off, or you could’ve brought out the side of him you’ve been seeing for days.

         “You talk so fucking big for someone so fucking small.” Bucky’s demeanor shifts, and suddenly the energy in the room is as charged as it was the day you sparred with him. You’re silent as he steps away from the door and starts undoing his belt with one hand. One. Fucking. Hand.

         “Bucky—”

         “No, you sit there and look pretty, don’t say a fucking word.”

         You close your mouth instantly, partially due to the shock of his boldness but mostly because when Bucky Barnes tells you what to do, with his hand on his belt, you’ll do it. You aren’t quite sure when your body decided to switch from always wanting to do the opposite of what he said to wanting to do everything he says, but you have a feeling it happened around the time he started praising you for the tiniest things.

         “That’s right, you can’t even help yourself, can you? You listen to me because you know it’ll get you what you want.” His voice is smooth and even. Any hint of hesitation has vanished. As he pulls his belt out of the belt loops, he glances down at the strip of leather in his hands. So many things he could do with it, he thinks. He steps even closer to where you sit at the foot of the bed and you swallow hard as you look up at him. Bucky’s mind is reeling. He remembers the way you looked up at your trainer in the gym that day, the way you smiled at him. He almost laughs thinking about how jealous he was of that. And now he has you like this. Bucky drops the belt on the bed beside you and then pulls his shirt over his head in one swift movement, dropping it on the floor beside your feet. As your gaze drops to take in the sight of his toned chest, the scars along his left shoulder, his godly abs, he smiles to himself.

         You feel the last dry fabric between your legs become wet when he hooks a finger under your chin and tilts it upwards, forcing you to look up at him once more.

         “Keep behaving, and I won’t touch that.” He says evenly, cocking his head in the direction of the belt. Bucky slowly drops to his knees in front of you, placing both hands firmly on your thighs. “Act up, and you’ll have two reasons why you can’t sit down tomorrow, instead of one.”

         When he talks to you like that, things either start moving in slow motion or they start fast forwarding. You find yourself flat on your back, with your legs hooked over his shoulders so suddenly that you aren’t sure if it happened in seconds or minutes. You aren’t even sure if you said a word, though the belt still lies on the bed beside you so you must’ve kept his command and stayed quiet.

         “You have no idea…” Bucky whispers as he kisses along your inner thigh. “No idea how long I’ve wanted to be between these thighs.” His admission sends blush to your cheeks and a shudder throughout your body. He raises his head for a moment and looks into your eyes. Fuck, he needs to stop doing that. Every time he makes eye contact with you, he’s pushed closer and closer to throwing every care out the window and fucking you like a goddamn animal. He focuses on your dripping cunt instead, finally giving himself the chance to admire it. Every time he breathes you feel it. When he presses his tongue flat against your entrance and begins to drag it up toward your clit, your back arches off the bed at the sudden contact.

         “Fuck.” You exhale the word sharply, letting your eyes flutter closed and your fists grip his bedding. As soon as the word leaves your mouth, you remember what he said. Don’t say a fucking word.

         “You taste so fucking sweet.” Bucky groans, breaking away from your cunt and pressing his forehead against your thigh to ground himself. “Shit.”

         Seconds later, Bucky is working his tongue all over you, into you, like he really has waited forever for this moment. His desperation and fervency only adds to the sensations between your legs, causing a knot to twist in your lower stomach at record speed. As soft whimpers and moans slip past your lips, which you’re trying hard to keep pressed together, Bucky sucks on your clit and remembers what he told you to do.

         “Let me hear you, please.” He says just loud enough for you to hear, before diving right back in. In that moment, you can’t believe the filthy sounds that begin spewing from your mouth. Bucky eats up every single sound, every single swear, every single syllable of his name falling from your lips. His name. God, every time you moan his name, his cock twitches in his jeans and he loses another piece of his mind. When your back arches off the bed again and your thighs tighten on the sides of his head, he knows you’re right on the edge. That’s when he, without warning, flicks his tongue over your clit and slips two fingers inside of you. With a few thrusts and curls of his fingers against your walls, and his mouth’s unrelenting actions on your clit, you’re coming undone for him. “That’s it, cum for me.” He encourages you, practically finger fucking you right through your orgasm. “I knew you’d sound so fucking pretty when you cum.”

         You’re a limp, panting mess on his bed as he crawls over you, peppering your naked body with kisses all the way up.

         “Talk to me.” He coos, leaving a trail of kisses along your neck as he waits for you to say something, anything.

         “That was…” You take a deep breath mid-sentence, trying to steady your voice. “You just…” You’re mentally kicking yourself for not being able to form a coherent sentence. You have no doubt that your loss of basic speech skills is only going to inflate his ego.

         “That was a fucking dream.”  He says softly, sucking on your earlobe and then moving to hover over you. He takes in the sight of you. Your cheeks are flushed, your pupils are blown, and you’re struggling to catch your breath. It’s adorable. “Can you move up higher in the bed or do I need to move you myself?” He asks. At first, you think he’s joking, but when you look into his eyes you see that he’s dead serious. A moment later, you’re settling in with your head on his pillow as he stands beside the bed and strips every last shred of his clothes off. Though your eyes have adjusted to the darkness of the room, the shadows make it impossible to see Bucky’s fully naked form. It isn’t until he’s positioning himself back on top of you that you get the answer to the question that had been on your mind.

         “Oh my god, Bucky.” You gasp as his hard cock presses firmly against your thigh.

         “Hmm?” He knows exactly what you’re reacting to, and if you could see the smirk painted across his face right now you’d probably want to slap him.

         “It’s…you’re so big.” Your voice turns into a whisper. You’re sure you feel his cock twitch and a little bit of precum drip onto your thigh when the words leave your lips. Oh, right. Bucky’s size kink. It makes sense now. How could a guy with such a big dick not have a size kink? “It’s not going to fit.” You say assuredly.

         “Oh, it’ll fit. Remember what you said?” Bucky remembers what you said like it was five minutes ago. “I can take whatever you have to give me. You said that to me.” He reminds you.

         “I didn’t know—”

         “Oh, you knew.” He chuckles, leaning down and capturing your lips in a kiss. He distracts you with ease, licking along your bottom lip and then letting it delve into your mouth gently, just as he grinds the head of his cock against your clit. You gasp into the kiss, which only encourages him to deepen it further. He starts rutting against you, dragging his cock back and forth between your folds with every movement of his hips. If he had it his way, he’d be fully sheathed within you right now, fucking you so hard you’d see stars.

         Bucky lets the head of his cock get closer and closer to your entrance with every rut of his hips, but he continues distracting you with his mouth. He fully intended to keep kissing you when he finally let his cock slide into you, but just as he notches inside of you and starts pushing in, he breaks the kiss.

         His lips hover within millimeters of yours as your pussy grips him and pulls him in deeper and deeper. You’re both open-mouthed, breathing into each other, looking into each other’s eyes as your bodies meld together. Obsession. It’s the only word on his mind as he watches your eyes squeeze shut while your legs spread all for him.

         He fucks you slowly at first, giving you time to adjust as he sticks to shallow thrusts. When your eyes open and you look up at him once again, he smiles down at you and picks up the pace, thrusting a little deeper as you start to focus on the feel of him. But when your name leaves his lips and you start scratching your nails down his bare back? He starts fucking you like he owns you. He fucks you as meticulously as he cleaned the crevices of his vibranium arm earlier.

         “Fuck, you’re taking me so well.” Bucky groans, pushing his face into the crook of your neck. “My cock is splitting you in half and you’re fucking taking it.” He can feel how close you are, and the absolutely cock-drunk expression on your face only confirms it. Your expression paired with the most sultry moans he’s ever heard have him following you right to the edge. “You’re going to cum for me, aren’t you? Such a good girl, ready to cum all over my cock.”

         “Bucky, if you keep talking like that—fuck.” He only speeds up when you start talking, convinced that if you’re still talking, he’s not fucking you hard enough.

         “Shut the fuck up.” He groans, hating the way those few simple words from you nearly made him blow his load. “Shit.” Bucky hooks your legs around his waist and pulls your arms away from his back, pinning them down on the bed on either side of your head. He doesn’t have to say another word for you to know what he’s doing. He’s fucking you until you can’t do anything, until you can’t say anything, until all you can do is cum for him.

         Your orgasm is uncontrollable when it comes crashing in, making your back arch off of the bed and your bare chest press against his as you cry out his name.

         Bucky’s orgasm? Bucky’s orgasm was so much more uncontrollable that it didn’t even cross his mind to pull out and cum anywhere except inside of you. He pushed so deep inside of you when he started cumming that you swear you felt the heat of it in your stomach. Even when you were both finished, he just couldn’t stop thrusting in and out of you.

         “Good girl, such a good girl.” He kept whispering against your neck as he rutted into you, using his own cum mixed with your wetness as lube.

         As he collapses on top of you, your hands immediately move in two different directions. One begins tangling in his hair, gently massaging his scalp, while the other goes to caress his back with the softest touch. Only one word surfaces in your mind as you listen to his heavy breathing and focus on the feel of his skin against yours.

         Obsession.  

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#bucky barnes #bucky barnes fic #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes smut #bucky barnes x you #mcu #marvel #the winter soldier #winter soldier

[strawberrysturniolo]

goal // hockey!chris

summary: your boyfriend gets in a fight during his hockey game

part two

“SHIT!” I scream as the opposing team launches the puck into the goal. With some miracle, it’s pulled to the side goalpost, keeping the score at 2-2. 

I relax in my seat with my best friend sitting next to me, her tension releasing just as much as mine, maybe more, considering her boyfriend is the goalie. 

I watch as my boyfriend skates back onto the ice, tapping his stick three times to get my attention. 

I love you. 

I smile at him, watching as he races across the ice and steals the puck from his opponent. 

In retaliation, that player slams Chris into the boards in front of me. My eyes widen at the sound of the impact, but my boyfriend skates backwards unscathed. 

“We still on for dinner tonight?” he asks me in the middle of his game. 

I nod, trying my best not to distract him. 

We met when my best friend took me to her boyfriend's hockey banquet. It was hard not to be captivated by Chris. He checked all the right boxes and captured my attention with ease. I wanted to know everything about him.

We talked the whole night, then hung out in groups until we finally had the courage to go on a proper date. He kissed my cheek when he dropped me off at my apartment across our college campus, a complete sweetheart in the palm of my hands. 

We started dating after a few months, taking everything really slow, especially with the chaos of our own college schedules and him having to travel for his games. 

Chris skates next to his brothers, Sturniolo stitched into three jerseys standing next to each other as their coach speaks with them during their timeout. 

I look at Chris’ hand, sticking out behind him. He has his hand out with his middle and ring finger down, signing I love you.

“You guys are just too cute, aren’t you?” my best friend teases me. 

My cheeks burn red, a smile on my face that I can’t shake off. 

A power play is set up right next to where we’re sitting. I always find this so interesting. I can hear everything the players say to each other. 

“Who’s little girlfriend is there in the green?” someone says. 

I know they’re talking about me, so I immediately scan Chris’ face to see what he says. He doesn’t respond, but his jaw is locked and his eyes are burning into the other player. 

I watch Chris’ brother, Matt, charge into our view, stealing the puck away and attempting to shoot. It’s another lost cause. This goalie has saved the last 10 shots. 

“Oh, Jesus,” my friend groans. “Look at Chris.”

I scan the ice for my boyfriend, finding the number 3 and following his every move. He follows the player with the last name Hart like a shark. I can’t hear anything, but I can see the anger on Chris’ face, and the humor on Hart’s. Finally, I watch Chris hit his breaking point. 

With seven minutes left in the game, Chris races across the ice to Hart, despite the fact that his other brother, Nick, is already playing defense on him. Chris slides in front of his brother, cross-checking Hart. 

“Are you kidding me?!” I hear a shout from behind me. 

Eventually, the area around us erupts in cheers. Students from our school rise on their feet, jumping up and down, cheering on Chris as he picks a fight. 

Sticks are thrown, and the referees stand in shock as Chris lays sprawled on top of Hart, regaining his balance before throwing punches at his helmet. 

My heart is pounding, but I know better than to react and embarrass him. He knows how to be safe on the ice, and he knows his limits way better than I do. Not to mention, everyone loves Chris. Our school gathers just for him and his brothers, cheering them on at every game. The last thing I want is to embarrass him or his reputation. 

“I’LL KILL YOU!” Chris roars, and at that, the referees finally get involved. It’s useless. While two referees hold onto him, another player from the opposing team runs up to defend Hart, throwing a punch at Chris’ jaw. 

“Hey!” I find myself jumping up and yelling. I watch as the blood starts to pour from Chris’ nose, and now that there’s blood involved, I feel every bit of anxiety bubbling up in my chest. “Someone do something!”

Chris continues to get nailed, slurring out profanities as he expresses his anger. 

“Do NOT talk about her!” he screams one last time as he’s dragged off the ice, his brothers eyeing down everyone else in case it’s their turn to throw a punch. 

“Christopher Sturniolo, five minute penalty for fighting,” an announcer says over the speaker, repeating the same spiel for Hart. 

I grab my bag and stand from the bleachers. “I’m gonna go meet him outside the locker room.”

I say goodbye to everyone and head to the locker room, wanting to know more about this fight, but more importantly, that he’s okay. 

About 20 minutes later I see Chris walking with his coach, his nose mixed with some fresh and some dried blood. When his coach notices me standing outside of the locker room, picking at my fingers, he says, “I’ll see you tomorrow at practice.”

Chris nods, walking right past me and into the locker room. I’ve already seen everyone else leave, so I know it’s safe to go in, but seeing that he completely ignored me, I don’t think a few guys in there would be enough to keep me from entering. 

“So you’re just picking fights and ignoring me now?” I scoff. 

“I don’t want to talk about it,” he mumbles, tearing his padding off and shoving it into his hockey bag. 

I watch as he pulls his shirt off, his toned back facing me. 

I find myself becoming embarrassingly distracted and forgetting what I’m actually in here for.

“Do you still want dinner?” I ask quietly, my voice timid. 

Chris sighs and places his hands on the sides of his locker, the muscles in his back tensing. “Where do you want to go?”

I shrug even though I know he can’t see me. It’s like I’m too nervous to say anything in case he gets mad at me over something that happened during the game. 

When I don’t answer, he turns around, finding nothing but concern painted all over my face. 

He sighs again, this time one that tells me that he’s sorry without actually saying it. His arms wrap around me, his bare chest bracing my clothed one. “I’m sorry,” he mumbles into my hair as he kisses my head. 

“What happened?” 

He breathes out a laugh, tossing his shirt into his locker. “Johnny Hart happened, that piece of shit.” 

I don’t ask for more information. The dam has now broken and I know the water carrying the information is going to come flooding in. 

“He’s known for being a top tier trash talker, but it takes it way too fucking far,” he tells me. “I mean, talking about my family, my girlfriend–Fuck!”

I flinch at the sound of him shouting. “What did he say about me?”

He shakes his head. 

“Tell me,” I plead. 

“No!” he shouts again. “God, just– Go wait outside. I’ll be out in a minute and we can go get something to eat.”

“I want to know what he said!” 

“He’s a dick! Go wait outside,” he demands, but my feet are planted to the floor. I refuse to back down. “Are you seriously going to do this?”

“Yes!” I argue. 

“Fine!” he gives in. He takes a deep breath. “He was just saying disgusting things about you the whole time. Talking about your legs, how he wanted to see what you had under your pants.” I watch as his jaw tightens again. “He said he wanted to see if he could make you wetter than I can. That he would take you after the game and pin you against his car… Is that enough for you?”

I can see his face turning red, his anger bleeding out of him. It’s at this moment that I can also see that his face is still a bloody mess, and that matters more to me than what some idiot on the other team has to say about me. 

Without a word, I walk to the sinks, grab a rag that has been folded up and get it damp with warm water. I motion for Chris to sit down on a bench in front of his locker, and when he does, I start gently dabbing his mouth with the rag. 

He gives me a soft smile, and as cute as that is, my focus is on his bloody teeth. 

“Oh, baby,” I mumble. I find a bottle of water buried in his bag so he can rinse his mouth, and continue cleaning his face. “Are your hands okay?”

“Mhm,” he hums. “Had my gloves on.” 

I nod, remaining silent as I wipe the blood from his mouth and give him somewhere to spit the bloody water. 

“Coach is pissed,” he laughs lightly. 

“I’m not surprised.”

“He was already getting on me about my grades, and with this… I gotta get it together or he’s benching me.”

We both know that his coach will fight anyone to make sure Chris stays on the starting team. He’s the best player this college has seen in years.

“I can tutor you again,” I offer. “I have time before work on Friday’s.”

He shakes his head at me. “I don’t want to put that on you.” 

“I wouldn’t have offered if it would have been an inconvenience.”

He nods, then rests his hands on my waist, eventually pulling my wrists down to remove my hands from his face. 

“I’m sorry,” he says sincerely. 

“I know.”

“I just…” his voice trails off. “I can’t stand it when they do that shit. I know you’re a catch because… come on,” he motions his hands at me, making me laugh. “I just can’t sit there and pretend like I’m not bothered by it.” 

“I get it,” I assure him, trying to relieve the part of him that feels like he’s letting people down. “Let’s just get those grades up and try to tone back on the fighting, okay?”

He nods, this time smiling with a lot less blood in his teeth. He pulls me down to his level, resting me on his lap before holding my cheeks and kissing me gently. “I love you.”

A smile grows on my face. “I love you more.”

His eyes go wide. “Enough to fight Hart’s girlfriend for me?”

I let out a short laugh. “Let’s go get something to eat.” 

#sturniolo triplets #nicolas sturniolo #sturniolo x reader #sturniolo fanfic #sturniolo smut #nick sturniolo #matt sturniolo #christopher sturniolo #chris sturniolo #chris sturniolo smut #chris sturniolo x reader

[sunaluv]

Come get your man, come get your man!

In which someone has an obvious crush on your man

Feat: suna, nagi, ran, eren

Ignore the pairings I’m indecisive lols

SUNA RINTARO

“Hey you’re suna’s girlfriend right?” You looked up to see a girl with a stretched smile looking at you expectedly.

“Yeah, what’s up?” You asked, seeing no reason to be hostile yet.

“So nice to meet you! I sit next to him in english, you could say he’s kinda my english boyfriend,”

Oh.

You knew suna was attractive and you had a feeling this was inevitable, but that does not stop the shock of the situation.

“He told me about you, said you had a weird sense of humor,” you replied with a tight lipped smile.

‘He didn’t say that, he just said she was weird’ you thought.

“Omg so he does talk about me! It’s so weird, he like totally ignores me but it’s nice to know he talks to others about me,”

Now you were more amused than anything.

“But anyways, the reason I wanted to talk to you, girl to girl is that I think he might be into me a bit-not trying to sabotage your relationship it’s just… if it was me, I’d want someone to tell me.” She sat down next to you, putting an hand on your arm in faux comfort.

A voice called her name “what are you doing here.”

Like a deer caught in headlight, the girl stammered over her words “suna, I was just talking to your girlfriend about us.”

“There is no ‘us’” he deadpanned.

You watched amused as she accused suna of leading her on, saying how she kept borrowing pencils from her, or not moving his knee all the time when they’d touch and other absurd accusations on why he’s into her.

When she stormed off embarrassed and heartbroken, he sat next to you.

“Why did you intervene? I was having fun getting to know your english girlfriend,” you teased making him groan.

RAN HAITANI

“Omg you’re so pretty!”

Your boyfriend was on the other side of the nightclub dealing with who knows what as you smiled at the girl who had been gassing you for the past 2 minutes.

“I’m so glad stinky old ran found such a beauty like you, how did he cuff you?” She looked around as if searching for someone before leaning in close to speak over the booming music of the club.

“Just asking to check, he told you about us right?”

What us? “No he didn’t, what’s up with that?”

She sent an apologetic look. “He was here last week and we kinda…hooked up. Im not trying to be a homewrecker I just thought you should know.”

This liar, last week he had flown out with you on holiday for the week. You had arrived two days ago due to his business needing him.

But she didn’t need to know that.

“Omg no way, he’s cheating on me!” You faked hurt.

“Im sorry girl, I-“

“Why are you like this,” Your boyfriends strong groan cut into your conversation.

“Stop lying to her ran, she doesn’t deserve this! Come clean right now, you and I hooked up in that bathroom last we-“

“We weren’t in the country last week, dumbass.”

She froze and as if piecing everything together, she was about to fume at you. You knew she was lying and embarrassed her like that.

“You sly little-“

Before she could finish, ran was already pulling you away from her and leading you towards the back of the nightclub.

“I hate you by the way,” he sulked before you could even begin to poke fun at him.

NAGI SEISHIRO

You stared at your boyfriends ringing phone next to you, then back to said man who was absentmindedly clicking on his keyboard.

“Baby can you get that for me?”

You agreed, pressing accept on the incoming call from a random girls name that you’ve heard in passing from Nagi himself, nothing to be worried about, quite the opposite actually.

He keeps complaining about how she won’t leave him alone, but you defended the girl you didn’t know, saying maybe she was friendly.

Answering the call, a pretty girl sat infront of the window, neck angled so that the gold light shined on her face.

She obviously wasn’t expecting to see you, as she quickly adjusted her position to a more casual setting.

“Uhm hello, you must be sei’s friend, can you put him on the phone?” She asked, not hiding her distaste that your man wasn’t the one answering the phone.

“Girlfriend,” you corrected. “And he’s busy right now, I can get him to call you back if you want,”

She glared at you seeing you not let down. “Okay I guess. Just tell him it’s KK calling, he’ll come to me.”

You sent her a challenging look before relaying the message to the man three meters away from you nice and loud so she can hear.

“Hang up.” You saw her eyes widen and didn’t bother to hide your smile.

“What was that?” You asked.

He repeated himself, not realising she could still hear him, but before you could hang up, she had already done it, too embarrassed to face the girl who has what she wanted.

“You see what I mean now?”

EREN YEAGER

You stood in between the spread legs of your boyfriend in the party hosts kitchen as his big arms held your back to his chest. His long legs kicked the cabinets as he swung his legs, staring down the girl stood across the room.

“Why are you staring at me?” She asked giggling seductively.

“You’re being weird.”

“Whatever,” she smiled, rolling her eyes.

You fiddled with the necklace eren bought you for your anniversary, which seemed to get her attention.

“Cute chain girl,” she covered her annoyance with intrigue. “Did yeager boy here get it for you?”

You sent her a look, nodding to confirm.

“Omg that reminds me of this one time when we went on holiday together, you remember that ‘ren? When you bought me that cute set?” She batted her eyelashes at him.

You knew exactly what she was doing and it wasn’t going to work. It’s such a shame she had to act like this too, she was pretty, you’ll admit.

You trusted your man, he gave you a head up about the girl who leeched on to him, warning you about all the lies and deception she would try to drill in your mind.

“That was back in Spain right? He bought a extras while looking for this one right?” You smiled at her innocently.

“Wowwww, you told her about me eren? I’m so flattered” if she was pissed, and you knew she was, she didn’t show it.

“Mhm he told me all about you, about how you leech on to him at any chance you get.”

She let out loud, forced laughter “she’s a funny one yeager, make sure you keep a tight leash on this one.” She looked at you and you swore you saw her eye twitch.

The pair of you stayed silent as you watched her aggressively walk back towards the party.

“You’re better than me you know, if any of your guy friends started to act like that I would’ve beat his ass,”

You chuckled, turning in his hold to face him. “Good thing you were holding me because one more second and I would have.”

God he was so in love with you.

#haikyuu x reader #haikyuu #haikyuu imagines #haikyuu scenarios #hq x reader #haikyuu fluff #haikyuu!! #suna x reader #hq drabbles #eren yeager x reader #eren x reader #haitani ran x reader #ran x you #ran x reader #tr x reader #tokyo revengers x reader #tokyo rev x reader #aot x reader #snk x reader #bllk #bllk x reader #nagi x reader #nagi seishiro x reader #blue lock x reader

[halfvalid]

through the night

ABOUT

| 18+ | smut | explicit |

characters: live action!roronoa zoro | fem!reader

pairing: live action!roronoa zoro x fem!reader

word count: 4.2k

description: zoro comes to the reader's room during the night. sex ensues.

tags: smut, female reader, oral (receiving), fingering, vaginal sex, creampie, kissing (a lot of it), soft zoro, first time together, confessions (kinda), fluff, no use of "y/n", banter, pwp (lowkey).

author's note: consent is sexy and so is zoro

i have up to now only watched 2 episodes of OPLA and have never consumed any other type of one piece media. expect him to be ooc. also it's my first smut fic help

It was nighttime on the Going Merry, and the dull kiss of the setting horizon drifted lazily through the single window in your room. You were lying on your bed, leaning against the headboard as you flipped through a book you’d picked up the last time the ship had been docked. It wasn’t too interesting, but it was something to pass the time with, so you stifled a yawn and flipped to the next page.

There was a knock at your door, and you glanced up, watching as the shoddy metal hinges slowly creaked open. Zoro was standing in the doorway, his broad frame blocking out nearly all the light coming in from the hall. He was still dressed in his daywear, which reminded you that you needed to change—the loose shirt and trousers you wore were, although clean, nothing near sleepwear.

“Zoro?” you asked, watching as he started into the room. You clicked your tongue before he could step another foot inside, though— “If you’re going to come in, take your shoes off.”

Zoro scoffed but obeyed, pausing by the mouth of the room to slide his heavy boots off. He tread lightly to where you lay, climbing up to sit on the edge of the bed beside you. “What’s up?”

“Can’t sleep,” Zoro answered. You moved aside to allow him some more room, centering yourself on the bed. Zoro didn’t move, though.

You raised your eyebrows. “That’s possible?”

He looked unimpressed, propping his arms under his head and leaning back so his head was splayed against your thighs. His three matching earrings glinted in the light. “Luffy and Nami are being loud. Your room’s the farthest away.”

“Your elbow is digging into my gut,” you said, turning back towards your book. Zoro rolled his eyes, but readjusted his position, pulling his arms down to instead lay folded atop his stomach. “Are you just going to nap there?”

Zoro shrugged, and you had to stifle a giggle, the sensation vaguely ticklish. He’d never been a man of many words, so you lowered your book again and went back to reading. The light in the room was dim, though; after a few minutes, the glow from the light at your bedside no longer sufficed, and you were too tired to strain your eyes to squint at the page. You could, of course, just turn on the cabin lights—but Zoro was asleep by now, and you hadn’t even liked the book that much anyway.

You set it on your nightstand, gazing down at the slumbering man in your lap. Despite the glare he so often sported, Zoro looked near-angelic in his sleep, his face all smooth planes and straight lines. Those dark eyes of his were hidden like this, black lashes splayed across his cheeks as shadows emphasized the hollows of his bone structure.

He really was beautiful, an ever-comforting presence within the Straw Hats that your eyes had always strayed to. There was a certain kind of fondness you held for him that none of the other crew members could quite compare to, although if you voiced those thoughts Luffy would probably end up giving you a lighthearted scolding. You could already imagine the teasing from the other members of the crew—Usopp and Sanji particularly—making fun of your little crush, which is why you kept your lips firmly sealed. A secret was a secret, and this was yours to keep.

You finally tore your eyes away, focusing instead on getting out of the position you’d gotten stuck in. Somewhere in the back of your mind you liked the idea of Zoro sleeping in your lap, but the clothes you wore were getting increasingly uncomfortable. You carefully slipped out from under him, cradling his head so as to support him as you gently lowered him to the mattress. Thankfully, he didn’t rouse, and you slipped to the other side of the room to open up your wardrobe, satisfied knowing you weren’t disturbing him.

You made deft work, first brushing through your hair and rinsing your face with some clean water before focusing your attention on changing your clothes. You removed your trousers, instead donning a pair of shorts. You were halfway through peeling off your blouse to replace it with a softer, silk one, when Zoro coughed from behind you.

You froze, daring to glance behind you whilst still topless. Zoro had awoken, eyes having lost all trace of sleep as he slowly sat up, staring at your figure across the room. He coughed again as soon as your eyes met, dropping his gaze. “Sorry,” he said very carefully, voice hoarse and grating.

“No, it’s okay,” you managed out, but you were still frozen. Your thoughts were on the dark look that’d been in his eyes the split-second before he’d looked away—surprised but sharp, cutting like just his gaze could pierce through your soul. Gooseflesh had prickled up along your arms.

“I’ll just… go,” Zoro muttered, already having gotten up as he started shuffling towards the door. You jolted into action, nearly dropping the shirt still in your hands as you turned towards him.

“No, you can—” your words softened, seeing his gaze flicker rapidly around your figure before finally landing on some spot by your cheek. “You can stay.” You paused, hoping your words weren’t too direct. “If you want.”

“You should put your shirt on,” Zoro said, almost choking on his words, like they were too big to fit in his mouth.

Your gaze dropped down before a steady blush started climbing up the sides of your face. “Right,” you started, but it was like you’d lost control of your hands. The shirt still hung limply from your grip.

“Or you could…” Zoro paused, lips parted as he sucked in a soft breath. Carefully, he moved back towards your bed, the only sound in the room a soft thump as he sat back on it. “Not.”

You swallowed. You could barely feel the lax of grip as your fingers released the shirt, letting it fall to the floor in one pathetic heap. You took a tentative step towards Zoro, and then another, until you were right in front of him. The soft night breeze through the window caused chills to erupt down your spine. Or maybe that was Zoro’s expression—nearly studious in his attentivity, eyes grazing across your chest and torso like he was taking in information for a new, particularly high-paying bounty.

“Zoro,” you started. He finally glanced up at your face, and you shuddered, biting down hard on your tongue. “I, um—hi.”

“Hey,” he said carefully, like he was testing the word on his tongue. Your gaze flickered down to his lips. He seemed to notice, but he didn’t say anything; rather, he raised one of his hands, pressing it against your side until his fingers tightened against your waist, a present, ever-pulsing rush of warmth. “I think my chest is bigger than yours.”

You flushed, a quick rush of crimson gracing your cheeks as you turned away. Zoro’s grip on your waist tightened, and a low laugh escaped the bottom of his throat. “That was mean,” you whined. Zoro’s other hand came up to your face, fingers pressing against the underside of your chin. He carefully angled your face down, so you couldn’t look anywhere but straight at him.

“It worked to calm you down, though,” he said easily. You were about to protest against the fact that you had been calm in the first place, but then Zoro was kissing you.

Zoro was a lot less aggressive than you’d originally expected, but as you sunk deeper into the kiss, it started to make sense. Zoro was all clean lines when he fought, practiced and perfect—no space for sloppy lines or scribbles. The way he kissed was similar; he applied pressure, but not too much pressure, and his thumb traced firm circles into the skin of your waist.

He angled your head with the hand firmly propped against your jaw, so you didn’t have to do a lot of the work—just press against his lips and move against the gentle rhythm he’d set. His teeth scraped carefully against your lower lip, and he tugged, letting a soft gasp out from your throat.

Zoro took the opportunity to pry your lips apart with his tongue, the fingers splayed against your chin coaxing your jaw open until he could slide his tongue against yours. You let out a soft whimper, hands scrambling to his shoulders and running along the muscles of his back. Of course you’d known he was well-built, but the firmness of his body forced another squeak out of you—one he was more than willing to swallow up.

Eventually, Zoro’s hand dropped from your jaw, skimming along your body line before coming to rest on the underside of one of your breasts. You gasped as he started to massage the skin with his thumb, accidentally biting down on his lower lip in the process. He groaned, the sound low as his rhythm sped up, the hand cupping your waist dropping down to your hip.

And then he was hoisting you up and onto his lap. “Oh my God,” you muttered, causing him to break away, eyes glinting with amusement.

“What?”

A heady rush had blossomed along your cheeks again. “Nothing. You.” Somewhere in the back of your head, you wondered how strong Zoro had to be to lift you off the ground so easily with only one arm—granted, it hadn’t been that far of a lift, but still. “Kiss me again.”

Zoro laughed but obeyed, his hand still working at your breast as the other dropped to your thigh. Your fingers interlaced with his short hair, tangling within the moss-green locks as his tongue ran along the ivories of your teeth. His teeth scraped against your lip as he moved away, lips instead following the line of your jaw and moving down to your neck.

You dropped your arm from his hair, hand pressing flat against his upper back. Zoro’s muscles flexed as he chased down your throat, and you sighed as he pressed gentle kisses along the line of your vein.

“Been—wanting to do this for a while,” Zoro panted between kisses, placing a final one kiss at the junction of your collarbone before glancing tentatively back up at you. You met his mouth in another kiss, a smile you hadn’t felt rising bright along your cheekbones.

“Me too,” you whispered, and a look of relief flashed across his face before he was ducking his head again to press more kisses along your neck. You let out a laugh—you could feel the rumble of his lips against the sound as it left your throat. Carefully, you ran your finger along his earrings, soft clinks filling the room at the action. “What was that? Did you think I didn’t?”

“Dunno,” Zoro muttered, and you laughed again before he nipped at your skin, teeth scratching in a gentle bite. At your chest, his hand squeezed your nipple, and you gasped.

“That was mean.”

“Mhm.” Zoro didn’t seem appeased, his kisses turning sloppier—open-mouthed, full of bite. He never pressed down hard enough to hurt, but your mouth was full of soft gasps and whines, and your hand had come down to clench against his bicep. God, his arms. “I don’t hear you complaining.”

You nudged him, meaning only for it to be a slight press. But Zoro let the action guide him, falling onto his back with you pressed against him, flat against the bed. He stilled, both hands dropping to your hips as he gaze lifted to drink you in.

You were certain you were a mess—blushing, lips probably swollen, bruise blossoms that would purple by morning scattered all along your neck. But the way he looked at you made it seem like you were all dolled up—like you were outfitted in a flowing gown, eyes sparkling and hair perfect instead of the mess it most undoubtedly was.

“You’re pretty,” he murmured, almost too quiet to hear. Actually, you were certain you weren’t supposed to hear it, because before you could respond, he was pulling you across him, fluidly rolling you onto your back. His forearm pressed against the mattress beside your head, caging you in. Zoro seemed to like this angle, moving down your neck to your chest with more gentle kisses.

You were content to let him take what he wanted, eyes not moving from his face as you watched his lips brush over your breast. His tongue was hot against your skin, and you sucked in a tight breath as he swirled it along your nipple. Zoro steadied you with a firm grasp, hand pressing against your side before pushing up to attend to the breast that his mouth wasn’t. You squirmed, a soft pool of warmth sitting in your lower belly as he worked. A tight knot had formed somewhere inside, and you let out a breathy gasp.

Zoro’s gaze traced lower, hand leaving your breast in favor of skidding down your figure to rest at the hand of your shorts. He paused, eyes flickering upwards to meet yours. Hastily, you nodded, and his fingers dipped below the cloth, head lowering to press another kiss by your hip bone. Your hands clenched against the bed sheets as his fingers skimmed the rim of your shorts, coaxing them down inch by inch before they finally slid down to your knees. You kicked them off insistently, and Zoro laughed, one hand coming to stroke your thigh as if to make you stop moving.

Even though you’d partly expected it, you hadn’t been ready for the soft kiss he pressed against your inner thigh. His hand hooked around the side of your panties, dragging them down as he kissed up your skin, and you took in a sharp breath that he wholly and entirely ignored. His movements became more insistent as you squirmed, open-mouth and biting, tongue darting out from between his lips to languidly swipe up your thigh. Finally he reached the junction of your thigh and core, mouth pressing a feather-light kiss that dragged an entirely shameful sound out from your throat.

Zoro pushed your panties all the way off your hips, letting them sit by your knees even as you squirmed to kick them off. “Shh,” he murmured, and you stopped, heart pounding as the sound sunk deep into your bloodstream. The tight knot in your lower belly had only grown tighter, and your breath caught in your throat as you watched Zoro, his eyes flickering all around your exposed core.

He ran a finger along the side of your slit, and you shuddered, watching as he experimentally traced it across your folds. He lowered his head to your hips, pressing a kiss onto your clit. You were barely able to suppress the buck of your hips as Zoro’s hand came to rest on your thigh, pinning you down as his other hand worked along your core.

His finger found your vagina, carefully sinking between your folds as his tongue worked languid circles around your clit. You let out a moan, voice stuttering against your throat as his finger slipped deeper inside you. It only took him a few moments to push another one in, the soft scrape of his cut fingernails eliciting sparks that drew another breathy moan out of you.

“Isn’t it a little—unfair that I’m the only one not wearing anything?” you managed out between breaths, and Zoro stopped his motions, head lifting and eyes glancing up at you from under his lashes. One of his eyebrows arched in question, and his lips were glossy with your fluids, causing your core to squeeze around his fingers. Somehow, he didn’t even seem to notice the motion.

“Oh, that’s what you want to focus on right now?” he murmured, all low and throaty. He always spoke low-pitched, vocal chords all brash and grating from the back of his throat, but his voice hummed even deeper now, although that didn’t seem humanly possible. Your muscles clenched again, and Zoro’s gaze dipped down to where his fingers were still pushed inside of you. He fluidly pressed in deeper, fingers curling inside your body before pulling out and working back in. Your retort was lost as you moaned again, the tight feeling of your gut slowly unwinding as he moved back and forth inside of you.

His mouth lowered to lick at your clit again, and you cried out, barely suppressing a scream as his fingers dug, more insistent, inside of you. He pressed one final kiss against your clit, and then sat back, eyes fixed on working at your core instead. His fingers pumped in and out, steady and fluid. Your breaths came out breathy and broken, climbing closer and closer to your climax until he finally reached the summit inside of you.

“Come,” Zoro whispered, the hand not taking care of you running reassuringly along your thigh. You came suddenly, hips stuttering from where’d they’d lifted off the mattress, a cry ripping out of your throat. Zoro slowly slipped his fingers out of you, rubbing soothing circles into your inner thigh as you ran out your climax. Your breaths evened out, becoming less deep, less frantic; Zoro watched all the while, a glossy shine over his eyes and the faintest of smiles pressed along his lips.

You tilted your gaze down to his face, catching him just as he started to move again. The fingers drenched in your fluids came up to his mouth, and he licked them clean. Your stomach dropped, somehow already turning you on despite having come just mere seconds beforehand.

“My turn,” Zoro said softly, sitting up to start unbuttoning his shirt. You hoisted yourself up, hands skimming along the sheets beside him, uncertain of whether he wanted you to touch. You glimpsed a stiff tent in his pants as he sat up, and swallowed hard, eyeing the pull with apprehension.

“Do you want me to—” you tried gesturing down to his hips, but he caught your hand swiftly, pressing it against the buttons of his shirt. “What do you want?”

“Sex,” Zoro said. Nothing else. You held back the choke that dared to escape your throat, and a sheepish grin crossed his face. It was lopsided, nearly a smirk, if not for the genuine warmth glimmering at his eyes. “Sorry. That was vague.”

“It’s okay,” you assured, stifling a laugh. Your hands worked fastidiously at his buttons. It took far longer than you felt it should’ve, fingers all clumsy as you tugged them through their holes, unlooping them from where it fixed the cloth together. Soon enough, though, Zoro was stripping the last of the fabric off, tossing it carelessly across the room before pulling you into another kiss.

He was sloppier now that you’d come, more comfortable in his element—you could taste the tang of yourself on his lips, and you let out a sigh, hands moving down his figure to work at his belt. He had to stop kissing you to tug at his pants, pushing them down his legs before finally kicking them off fully.

You ducked your head to press a kiss at his navel, eyes tracing the length that jutted out from his hips. Your breath caught, gaze fixed to a pale vein running up the line of his length. “Up,” Zoro murmured, and you glanced up. Zoro pressed a long kiss to your mouth, one hand skimming around your butt to pull you up by the headboard. He ran a hand over your core, as if to ascertain you were relaxed enough for him.

“Do you have anything for it?” he murmured, lips sending chills down your back as he pressed a soft kiss at your jaw.

“I’m on the pill, yeah,” you huffed out, arms winding around his torso. Zoro hummed his response, fingers running up and down your thigh as he adjusted, hips sliding against yours to meet your core.

You sucked in a breath, but he was gentle with it, pushing in slowly, hand running along your lower back and coaxing you still. The sensation sparked tingles all over your body; up your spine, along your hips, down your legs like Zoro was electricity himself. You let out a little sigh as he pushed up to his hilt into you, hips stuttering against his as you both paused for breath. He brushed a ghost of a kiss along your lips. “Okay?” Zoro murmured.

“Perfect,” you answered, arms clutching tighter around him, fingers digging into his back. You hoped it wasn’t too sharp, but considering how big Zoro was, it was likely he barely felt the pressure—the crescents of your fingernails were probably just pinpricks to him.

Zoro started moving, then, his actions soft and fluid at first, fingers pressing reassuring circles into your waist and hips. He was nearly tender with it, motions languid and slow, like he had all the time in the world. Your breaths came out easy, soft and just barely edging towards gasps.

He started thrusting with more insistence soon, though; Zoro’s hips bucked against yours, and your grip tightened along his shoulder blades as he pushed in and out of you. Soft gasps and whines left your throat, in stark contrast to the heavy groans and grunts that barely stuttered past Zoro’s lips.

“Like that,” you said, barely able to let out words of encouragement as he hit your sweet spot, buried deep inside of you. You let out a throaty moan as he moved faster and faster, thrusts becoming harder and more aggressive. You knocked your head back, one of your hands reaching to grab Zoro’s from where it propped him up by your head. He welcomed the invitation quickly, fingers interlacing with yours, coaxing your palm open into a kiss of your hands. His thrusts worked harder than ever, and you stopped chasing the friction, letting your hips buck up against his as he shoved into you.

A low groan erupted from his throat as he hit your spot again, mouth coming down to bite into your shoulder as he suppressed the cry that tore from his mouth. You swallowed, gasping hard for breath as you felt him come inside you, your walls clenching tight around him before you also felt the familiar burst of pressure. You let out a gasping moan, mind buzzing with sparks and tingles. Vaguely, you felt Zoro’s hand against your hip, moving up and down in calming strokes.

It took a moment for you both to recover, coming down from the blissful high after long seconds ticked by. Zoro removed his mouth from your shoulder, carefully prying his jaw off from your skin. He scrutinized the marks he’d left—crescents of teeth, undoubtedly—before lowering his head again to press an apologetic kiss to the bite. You laughed in surprise.

“I can be a gentleman,” Zoro protested lightly, though his words didn’t hold much of a fight as he carefully slid out of you. He did it slowly, inch by inch, leaving a hollow sensation in his wake when he eventually parted from you. “You okay?”

“Lovely,” you answered honestly, eyes grazing up his chest before meeting his. “You?”

“I’m good,” Zoro answered, a vague smile on his lips. It was soft, tender; maybe not as big as ones you’d seen when he was laughing with the crew, but special nonetheless. He studied you for a moment, and you took the opportunity to trace his face with your eyes. His pupils were blown, slowly receding back into small dots of shadow, and his lips were kissed red, swollen over and glossy with your saliva. “Want me to draw a bath?”

“No,” you said, content just to watch him like this. “We can clean up in the morning, it’s getting late.” You hesitated, suddenly uncertain, teeth tugging at your lower lip. “Unless… you want to go?”

Zoro snorted. “No, I think I like it here,” he decided. He sat up, reaching to pull the blankets over your figure so the gooseflesh you hadn’t even noticed on your skin would subside. “Too tired to move, anyway. Might stay here forever.”

“Dramatic ass,” you mumbled, wrapping a hand around his wrist and tugging him closer to you. Zoro obeyed, sliding beside you, one arm moving to wrap around your waist. “Go to sleep, you big dummy.”

Zoro’s breath was light against the shell of your ear. “That was unwarranted.”

“Sleep,” you insisted, and Zoro huffed, reaching the arm that wasn’t around you to the nightstand. He flicked the lantern off, then turned back towards you, finally settling down. His lips pressed a soft kiss along your shoulder, and you smiled, your hand reaching down to meet where his was splayed along your belly.

“Good night,” you whispered.

“Night,” he mumbled back, the end of the word tapering off into a soft, tired breath. You could feel his chest move, up and down in a steady, soft rhythm. You buried your head into the crook of his arm, letting out a contented sigh before finally closing your eyes to drift off to sleep.

© halfvalid 2023

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[rowarn]

HYBRID!AU PART 2

part one | part two | part three (coming soon!!!)

(: anyway here's what you've all been begging for. a part 2 but it was getting so long...almost 3k words. and so....there will be a part 3.......but for now i hope this satiates you!!!

cw: hurt/comfort, aftermath of hurt???, self-deprecating thoughts, insecurities, mentions of blood and scratching, mentions of past mistreatment, petnames and headpats tho <3

The next time a human approaches you, you’re unable to stop the growls that escape your throat when you hear the pspsp as he tries to approach you. When you hiss, the man scoffs and stomps away muttering a soft ‘stupid cat’ under his breath. 

No one approached you for a long while after that. The only way you knew how much time had passed was when the restaurants all threw their leftover food from their workdays. Eating out of the trash was always utterly humiliating, especially when you got caught. 

Most people ignored you when they saw you sitting on the sidewalk, getting some sun since it didn’t shine into the little alleyway you hunkered in. Some people would scoff and give you disgusted looks, as if you were a stain on their shoe. 

At this point, you were used to humans acting like you were scum of the Earth. After your experience with Simon, human’s behavior towards you no longer surprises you. Though it hurt, you didn’t understand why you were so unlovable. 

But then one evening, when the sun was just beginning to set and the temperature was steadily dropping, you were huddled up in what little bit of sun-warmth you could get until it became dark. Your arms were wrapped around your body as you shivered, trying to ignore the way your tummy growled from being empty – the store employees had chased you off before you could steal anything from the dumpster. 

A large shadow cast over you and when you looked up, you saw a slender, athletic man. His presence immediately set you on edge and you felt a growl bubbling up in your chest.

“Hey now,” he chided softly, pretty brown eyes crinkled as he squatted in front of you, “None of that, little kitty.”

You scowled up at him. Even crouched down the way he was, he was larger than you.

“Do you have a name?” he asks kindly. 

You pause at that. Soap had given you a name. But did it really count as one if your previous owner hadn’t even agreed to it? Still, it was the only thing you really had left of your former companion. 

You softly mutter the name you’d been given and the man nods before holding out his large hand, “Kyle. Would you like to come home with me?”

That sends off alarm bells in your head and before you know it, your claws are ripping into his hand and you’re scurrying into the alleyway to cower in the corner. 

You hear the man faintly sigh before he stands, knees cracking as he does. You don’t hear anything from him for a few minutes before his heavy boots walk past the alleyway and fade. 

You don’t even understand your own reaction. Of course you wanted a home to call your own. But you don’t think you would be able to handle it if he turned out to be the same as Simon. You wouldn’t be able to get attached to a human only to be abandoned on the streets like you were last night's trash. Perhaps it was just easier to reject all human companionship than risk being heartbroken all over again. You had only recently stopped crying yourself to sleep over the memory of your home. 

You think that will be the last time you see the man, surely he wouldn’t want anything to do with a cat-hybrid who was mean, but just a couple days later, he’s back. He stands beside you, one bandaged hand gripping a shopping bag. You feel a pang of guilt at the sight of his bandaged wound. He slowly places it beside you, staring at you expectantly. 

“This is for you,” he says awkwardly after a second of you staring blankly at him, “It’s some food and water.”

Your stomach growls at the mention of food and as much as you want to peek in the bag, you can’t bring yourself to admit defeat like that. He might think you’re accepting him as your owner if you accept his gift! 

But you’re not! You refuse to end up hurt and sad like you had been with Simon! You would rather just live on the street than go through that hurt all over again. You couldn’t stand to give your trust only to be betrayed and mistreated again.

You only wanted someone to love you but apparently that wasn’t in the deck for you and that was okay, you told yourself. No matter how much it hurts to admit.

The man, Kyle, sighs softly when you simply ignore him, the sound almost melancholy. It makes your heart ache in your chest. He casts you one last glance but you keep your gaze down before he walks away, disappearing out of sight at the end of the street. 

With his piercing gaze off of you, you turn to the bag and begin rooting inside it. 

A couple bottles of water and some hybrid-safe packaged food. Nothing that needed refrigeration but also much better quality and variety than what you had been given by Simon. 

You remember how it felt to watch Soap eat delicious meats and fruits and veggies while you got bland, colorless slop. Sure, it was healthy for hybrids but everyone knew it was disgusting. Clearly Simon didn’t care – he was just feeding you so you didn’t inconvenience him by starving to death in his house. 

And though Soap would sometimes share his food with you, it wasn’t the same.

This food was yours. Kyle had gotten it for you.

You pull out one of the packages, a neatly wrapped sandwich with all the organic ingredients listed in bright colors. It makes your heart ache just a little bit as you take your first bite, all alone on the sidewalk, quietly wishing Soap was there for you to share it with as payment for all the food he had shared with you. 

Kyle makes it a habit to visit you day after day, sometimes bringing food, sometimes just bringing himself. Most of the time, you ignore him but he doesn’t seem deterred in the slightest, only quietly promising to visit you again soon when he bids you goodbye. 

It starts to become lonely when he leaves.

You don’t know when it begins, but you find yourself waiting for him. You sit out in the open, mindlessly combing your tail, where he can see you if he approaches. You find yourself thinking about him and if he’ll bring something for you to snack on – he found these delicious fish flavored chips that you were practically addicted to. Though, you didn’t say anything about your liking of them, he kept bringing them so you think he knows. 

Some days, Kyle’s visits were quick and fleeting and other times he sat there for a while. He had given up trying to talk to you much since you made it a point to ignore him but you were happy that he hadn’t given up yet. 

You know you would have given up by now. But the fact he persists leaves you with a warm, soft feeling in your chest. You’ve never had someone try so hard for you before, Simon certainly never cared to try.

Kyle wasn’t so bad after all, you found yourself deciding. He was quiet but not standoffish. He didn’t try to touch you after you had swiped at him one time when he went to pat your head. He was kind, always complimenting you with ‘pretty kitty’ and ‘sweet kitty’. And best of all, he didn’t ignore your existence like you had grown used to when living with Simon. 

Waiting for Kyle to show up became the most grueling part of your day. Minutes felt like hours and any tall man who passed by had you perking up to see if it was Kyle. The urge to get closer to him grew day by day, you wanted him to pet you, you wanted to talk to him. 

Maybe living with him wouldn’t be so bad after all. Just the thought of a happy life made you purr to yourself. 

You vowed that you would talk to him today, maybe see if you could take him up on that offer he had made that first day you met. 

But he never came. As the sun dips behind the horizon, you find your hopes getting squashed. He always came before dark. 

With a heavy heart, you curled up in the little cardboard box you had been calling your shelter. It was easy to tell yourself that the ache in your heart was because you wanted to see him and not because you were scared he had given up on you.

The next day, the same thing. You waited all day only for him to not show up. Then the next day. And the next. 

A week passed with no sign of him and you tried your best to pretend like it didn’t hurt like hell. 

Maybe he really had gotten sick of waiting for you and decided to find a hybrid who would actually talk to him. You couldn’t blame him, you suppose. But it still made that heavy pain settle in your heart like when you had been thrown out by Simon. 

One morning, you were awoken by a loud voice shouting down the alleyway, “Alright, come on out, cat.”

The sound of the voice had you sitting up, eyes wide as you looked around. At the entrance, a man stood with his hands on his hips, a hefty utility belt around his waist. 

He sighed when he saw you staring blankly at him before he came over, hoisting you up by the arm.

Your growled and hissed, ears pinned back as you fought against his grip. He dragged you out, taking you towards a big black van that had the words ‘hybrid-control’ printed on the side. 

You swiped at the man with your free hand, sharp nails slicing into his skin. He cried out in pain but didn’t relent in his hold.

“Stupid fucking cat,” he snapped, “Fuckin’ hate havin’ to pick shits like you up.”

“Excuse me,” a sudden, frantic voice called out, “What are you doing?”

The man holding you turned to look at Kyle, an annoyed look on his face, “Got a complaint about a stray hybrid livin’ around here. Came to pick it up.”

“Oh that’s not necessary,” Kyle said, reaching out to pull you from the man’s grasp, handling you much softer than the stranger, “This hybrid is mine.”

The man looked like he wanted to argue but glanced down at his bleeding arm and rolled his eyes, “Whatever, man. Your funeral. Just get it off the street.”

When the van drove off, Kyle turned to look at you apologetically, “Sorry, I didn’t want to claim ownership over you like that but–”

“Where were you this week?” you find yourself pouting, crossing your arms over your chest petulantly.

Kyle looks shocked before he smiles kindly, “I was away for work. I’m sorry I didn’t come to see you.”

Your pout only deepens, “It’s not like I missed you or anything…”

“Of course not,” he laughs but you both know he doesn’t believe you, “How about I show you my home, hm? It’s not too far from here.”

You agree without complaint, letting Kyle lead the way down the busy streets until it grows quieter and quieter.

The neighborhood is startlingly familiar as he escorts you to his home. It doesn’t take long for you to realize it’s the same neighborhood Simon and Soap live in. 

You weren’t exactly sure how far their home was but you couldn’t stop yourself from frowning at the memories.

“What’s the matter?” he asked, “Don’t like it? I know it’s a little boring here but it’s near the base so what can you do?”

“It’s not that,” you quickly said, considering telling Kyle what was on your mind but you instead settled for, “I-It’s nothing.”

You were worried if you told him about your previous home, he might think there was something wrong with you. You didn’t want him to think you were undesirable and put you out on the streets all over again. You silently wondered when you became so insecure. 

He hummed and opened the front door for you, “There’s a room at the end of the hall that’s an office right now but it’s all yours once I get it set up with a bed and everything.”

“My own room?” you ask softly, fluffy ears perked up.

“Of course,” he smiles, “This is your home now.”

You feel tears prick your eyes but you quickly look away before Kyle can see them. It felt so nice that he actually considered it your home too and not just his. Simon always made you feel like you were barely welcome and only there because he put up with you until he couldn’t stand you anymore.

“Oh before I forget,” he said, grabbing a box off of the table, “I got you this.”

He showed you the contents, a cute, dainty collar with a metal tag in the shape of a fish with your name engraved on it. 

“Why do you have a collar?” you asked, tilting your chin up so he could fasten it around your neck.

“I had hopes that you would let me take you home one of these days,” he laughed, a boyish, kind sound that made a smile grow on your own face, “I wasn’t going to give up until you were safe and sound with me, love. I knew this was going to be your home one way or another.”

You spend the whole day wandering around the house and exploring, nudging against every surface to spread your scent on it. You hadn’t done that much in Simon’s house, too scared you’d get reprimanded for dirtying up the furniture or something.

But Kyle didn’t care in the slightest. He simply smiled when he saw you nuzzling the pillows. He even trimmed your nails so they weren’t nearly as sharp anymore. 

It was nice living with him.You quickly realized how different your life felt with Kyle than how it felt with Simon.

Kyle was kind and friendly, calling you by your name and petnames and not just ‘hey you’ or ‘cat’. The affection in his tone was palpable and just hearing how sweetly he spoke to you made you purr uncontrollably. 

And he didn’t once raise his voice at you or chase you off the couch when you were napping. He gave you the softest pats on the head and let you snooze on his lap without a single complaint. 

He never forgot to feed you and always gave you the most delicious things he could find. He ate at the table with you and told you all about his day, making an effort to talk to you and learn about the things you liked to do while he was at work. 

You were happy to finally have a home to call your own. But deep down, you missed Soap. You missed his energetic happiness and how affectionate he was with you in a way that only hybrids could be. He was the only true companion you had ever had and he had left his mark on you. You wondered about him every day, especially when you heard the front door open and you half expected him to come running in with a thrilled grin on his face, ready to regale you with tales of outside.

You passed their house one day while on a walk with Kyle, something he took to doing as an activity with you (he didn’t want you to get bored or stagnant just sitting inside all day), trying your best to act like seeing the home you used to call your own didn’t make your heart ache painfully in your chest. 

“There’s a hybrid that lives here, you might like him. His name’s Soap,” Kyle said when he saw you pausing in front of their home, “Owner is Simon Riley. I work with him, kind of a standoffish guy, you should probably steer clear if you run into him. He’s not the most friendly.”

“Yeah…” you found yourself mumbling, barely even registering anything Kyle had said, a frown etched on your lips before you looked at Kyle, “Can we go home?”

“Of course. Let’s get you some food, pretty kitty,” Kyle cooed affectionately, patting your head before leading you back home. 

You casted a glance at the home you used to call your own, you were startled to see Soap standing in the window, eyes wide, brows furrowed, and hurt written all over his face. The sight alone made your own eyes sting. He had never looked at you like that before. He looked so heartbroken.

Kyle cooed softly to get your attention again, leading you down the sidewalk and away from the house. Soap’s figure in the window faded from view and you felt your head spinning.

Soap and Simon’s scent faded the further you got away from it. But once you entered your home with Kyle, your scent and his mixed together in a way that it never did with Simon’s. You couldn’t help but purr, the pain and anxiety in your heart fading.

But still, your mind lingered on the distraught face of the best friend you left behind.

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