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punkshort · 1 year ago

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i'll be home for christmas | part two

Pairing: Joel Miller x f!reader

Summary: Having just caught your fiancé cheating on you, you decide to come back home from the big city to Austin for the month of December to try to figure out your next step. You had no idea you would be getting more than you bargained for with the handsome single dad who built your parents' house.

Chapter Warnings: no outbreak, modern day but Joel is 40, language, fluff, very soft!joel, flirting, kissing, hallmark movie tropes up the wazoo, mentions of infidelity, mentions of divorce, reader's sister is pregnant, hurt/comfort, explicit smut (18+MDNI), (somewhat) unproteced piv sex, angst (but you know there will be a happy ending, this is Hallmark, after all)

WC: 12K

A/N: I am so overwhelmed at the response I received for part one. No contest, it's my most successful story to date, and I can't thank you all enough ❤️ I really hope you enjoy this part just as much. Please read the warnings, this has some (very sweet and soft) smut at the end, so if it isn't your thing, feel free to skip it.

Series Masterlist

Joel sat in his truck, the engine long cooled down by now, as he stared blankly at his garage door, waiting for the stupid grin to leave his face before he went inside to face his brother. But he had been sitting there for almost twenty minutes, and he was still smiling behind the back of his hand.

That date with you was perfect. Well, he could have done without getting knocked on his ass by some kid, but it worked out for him in the end, so he didn't mind.

Goddamn, did you make him feel good. There was no way he would be able to sleep that night, he was sure of it. Not after the way you looked at him, touched him, kissed him. A big part of him wondered for a long time if he would spend the rest of his life alone, believing that lightning doesn't strike twice, that he would never find anyone who would look at him and want him the way you did.

He ignored the nagging voice in the back of his head that reminded him you didn't live there, that you would be going back to New York in a couple short weeks. He couldn't let that bring him down just yet, that was a problem for another day. Right now, his only problem was resisting the urge to drive back to your house and scoop you up in his arms so he could make you feel as good as he felt.

It was close to midnight, so he caved and went inside, hoping his brother would be too groggy to interrogate him. When he walked in and saw Tommy and Sarah lounging on the couch, wide awake and watching some action flick, his face fell.

"Hey, it is way past your bedtime, the hell are you doin'?" Joel scolded, sliding off his boots.

"Dad, c'mon, it's the weekend," Sarah whined.

"Don't care, you know the rules," he told her, trying to sound firm, but he had such a soft spot for her that he never succeeded in sounding threatening.

"But it's a special occasion, I wanted to hear how your date went," she grinned, sitting up and wiggling her eyebrows. Joel's jaw dropped and shot a glare at his brother while stretching his arms out at his side in disbelief.

"Oh, come on, she practically dragged it outta me," Tommy smirked.

"Unbelievable," Joel muttered, collapsing on the end of the couch and rubbing his eyes.

"So?" Sarah pushed, tucking her legs underneath her excitedly.

"I ain't talkin' about this with you," he said, biting his cheek as he stared at the TV.

"Why not?" she pouted, but Joel just shook his head.

"Go brush your teeth," he said.

"Fine," she replied, rolling her eyes as she made her way to the stairs. "But I'll get it out of you one day."

She stomped upstairs and it wasn't until Joel heard the water running that he turned to his brother.

"What the hell, Tommy? You know I didn't want her knowin' about that," he said, exasperated.

"Oh, relax," Tommy said, stretching his arms above his head. "She's sixteen, Joel. She's smart. She figured it out herself, I just confirmed it after gettin' the third degree."

Joel sighed and tipped his head back onto the sofa, closing his eyes.

"Christ," he muttered.

"What's the big deal?"

Joel sat up and opened his eyes.

"Big deal is, she lives in New York. There's no future there, we were just hangin' out, and I don't need Sarah gettin' her hopes up," Joel explained, trying to downplay his feelings, but his chest squeezed at the thought of you leaving one day.

"Ever hear of long distance?" Tommy asked, raising an eyebrow.

"That never works," Joel replied, shaking his head.

"Well, maybe you should make it work," he said, sitting up and muting the TV. "You know, Sarah just wants you to be happy, Joel. We both do," Tommy said somberly. "Told me tonight she's worried about you bein' all alone when she goes off to college."

"I'll be alright," he said gruffly, although the same thought was plaguing his mind recently, as well.

Tommy stared at his brother a moment as Joel watched the TV, pretending to follow the story even though there was no audio. He decided to drop it for now and changed the subject.

"So, you gonna tell me how it went or what?"

Joel bit his lower lip, trying to keep himself from smiling, but he failed. Tommy noticed right away and grinned, leaning forward to tap his knee.

"I know that look," he said, still grinning.

"Yeah, alright," Joel finally said with a smile. "It was great. Really fuckin' great."

"Hell yeah!" Tommy yelled, and Joel immediately shushed him, pointing upstairs.

"She's funny and she's sweet, we had a real nice time," Joel said, his grin permanently etched on his face now.

"I figured it went well since you got home so late," Tommy replied with a wink.

"I ain't gonna sleep with her on the first date," he whispered, just in case Sarah was listening. He settled back into the couch as Tommy turned the TV volume back on, letting the movie play for a minute before adding, "She's a good kisser, though."

"Oh, I can't wait to meet this girl," Tommy chuckled with a shake of his head. "Haven't seen you smile this much in years."

"Yeah, well," Joel replied noncommittally, still smiling like an idiot and staring at the TV. He decided to stay downstairs that night, finishing the movie and then starting another one on the couch long after Tommy left, unable to quiet down his mind long enough to fall asleep until nearly three in the morning.

You woke up the next day, stretching your arms above your head with a big yawn, not ready to get out of bed yet but the voices downstairs told you it must have been late. With a groan, you reached over and snatched your phone off the charger. When you saw you had a text waiting for you, your heart skipped a beat until you read Sydney's name and not Joel's. Your eyes flicked to the top of the screen, noting it was close to ten in the morning, before sliding open the text.

Sydney: sorry forgot to reply yesterday. I saw will at black & blue, he was hammered and falling all over the place

You scowled, not interested in whatever your ex was up to, so you replied with just the thumbs up emoji and set your phone back down.

Staring at the ceiling, you dreamily thought about your date with Joel. God, he really took you by surprise. You were proud of yourself for taking that first big step forward and putting yourself out there again, but you had no idea it would feel like this. You weren't even sure you ever felt like this with Will. Even when things were good, Will never treated you the way Joel did last night. He was so earnest and respectful, opening doors for you and actually listening to you talk about work. And he didn't even try to feel you up, either, although you probably wouldn't have minded. Maybe it was those Southern manners you were missing this whole time.

With a groan, you dropped your phone back on the nightstand and swung your legs over the edge of your bed, wrapping yourself in your robe, still not expecting it to be so cold in Texas. Even though it was December, it was unusual.

You made your way into the kitchen and made a beeline for the coffee, tossing a wave in the direction of your parents sitting with your sister and brother in law in the living room.

"She lives!" Cassie exclaimed with a smug look on her face. You held your mug up to your lips and blew on the liquid, frowning when the whole family was looking at you with matching, goofy smirks.

"Why are you all looking at me like that?"

"Like what?" your mom asked innocently. You squinted at her as you sat down, not buying it.

"How was your date?" your sister asked. You took a sip of coffee before replying.

"Good," you said simply, nodding your head. Your mom and dad exchanged a look and you frowned again, getting annoyed.

"What?" you asked loudly.

"Nothing!" your dad said, looking back down at his newspaper. Who even still gets the newspaper delivered anymore, anyway?

"Josh, what's going on?" you asked your sister's husband, knowing he was the weakest link. He glanced nervously between you and Cassie.

"They saw you and Joel on the Ring camera," he blurted out, and your family all groaned in unison. Your face flushed beet red, gawking at them all in disbelief.

"Are you kidding me?" you screeched.

"We didn't mean to, Bucky. Dad was reviewing the footage because he couldn't find the newspaper this morning and, well..." your mom trailed off, trying to hide her smile.

"Oh my god," you whined, tucking your legs to your chest and hiding your face.

"Looked like the date was a little more than good," Cassie teased, and you smacked her on the leg.

"I can't believe this," you mumbled to yourself, hiding your face behind your coffee mug and praying someone would change the subject. "How much did you see?"

"Just from when he pulled in the driveway til when you went inside," your mom said with a shrug.

"That's, like, everything, Mom! Oh my god!" Your face was hot with embarrassment now.

"He looks like a good kisser, is he a good kisser?" Cassie asked.

"Shut up!" you whined, covering your face with your free hand.

"There's nothin' to be embarrassed about, he was a gentleman. Held the door open for you and everythin'," your dad murmured, and you groaned.

"Can we talk about literally anything else, please?" you begged.

"Of course!" your mom said, her eyes flicking around the room, waiting for someone to say something, but nobody spoke.

"I'm sorry, Buck, but you gotta see the the smile on his face after you went inside, it was so cute," Cassie said, pulling out her phone.

"I'm going upstairs!" you announced, jumping up from the couch.

"Wait! Are you still coming by later to help paint the nursery?"

"I don't know, are there any cameras there?" you shouted over your shoulder as your climbed the stairs with your coffee to hide in the sanctity of the guest bedroom.

"Well, no. Only because I haven't set the baby monitor up yet," Cassie called back and giggled when she heard you slam your door.

Grumbling to yourself, you flopped back into bed and picked up your phone, looking for a distraction from your embarrassment. You quickly found one when you saw you had a missed text from Joel.

Joel Miller: Question for you - when is the earliest you should text someone without looking too pathetic after you've had the best date of your life?

You grinned as you typed out a response.

You: answer - whatever time you sent this text :)

Joel Miller: Oh, good. Thought I scared you off, sent that about ten minutes ago.

You: sorry, I was downstairs talking to my family, forgot to bring my phone. And I don't think you could ever scare me off

You almost told him about the doorbell camera fiasco, but decided against it. Picking up your mug, you tried not to stare too hard at your phone as you waited for a reply.

Joel Miller: What are you doing later?

Your heart skipped a beat at the thought of seeing him again so soon, then quickly stopped yourself, remembering your promise to your sister.

You: I told my sister I would help paint the nursery...

Joel Miller: That's a shame. I was hoping you could teach me something again.

You: oh? lol

Joel Miller: I just realized how that sounded - I meant wrapping Christmas presents for Sarah. I'm awful at it and I have another hunch gift wrapping is a secret talent of yours.

You giggled and rolled over in bed, your embarrassment long forgotten now.

You: you might be right... how about tomorrow?

Joel took the porch steps two at a time, eager to see you again and it hadn't even been a full two days. His finger barely pressed the doorbell when he heard your voice call out I got it! and the door swung open. You smiled up at him, your eyes lighting up before dropping your gaze to his mouth.

"Hi," you said breathlessly.

"Hey," he replied, swallowing roughly.

"Have a nice time, Bucky!" your mom's voice rang out somewhere behind you as you shut the door quickly. Joel grinned, his gaze drifting from your eyes to your mouth before leaning in. You put your hand on his chest and tilted your head back before grabbing his hand and leading him to his truck. Confused, he followed behind and tried not to stare too long at the way your jeans perfectly hugged your ass.

You led him to the passenger side of the truck, but when he reached out to open the door, you snaked your hand up to wrap around the back of his neck, pulling his face down for a searing kiss only when you were sure you were hidden from view.

"Would I sound crazy if I said I missed you?" you whispered.

"No," Joel replied, shaking his head and trying to calm his pounding heart. "Couldn't stop thinkin' 'bout you."

"Me, too," you admitted softly, gazing up at him with your beautiful eyes all wide and burning with desire.

He cradled your face in his calloused hand, the other flattened firmly against the truck door behind you as he stared into your eyes, fighting the urge to pick you up and wrap your legs around his waist so he could pin you against his truck and let you feel just how badly he missed you.

Then, you heard your dad's SUV unlock and your eyes widened in panic.

"Shit," you muttered. "We should go. I think they're heading out."

"Alright, maybe I should say 'hi' real quick," he said, pushing himself off the truck and letting his hand drop from your face.

"No! That's okay, we'll be stuck here forever if you do," you said hurriedly. He gave you a curious smile but agreed before opening the door for you and hopping into the driver's seat.

He waited until he backed out of the driveway and was heading down your street before shooting you a sideways glance.

"Everythin' okay?"

You sighed and rubbed your palms over your face before clearing your throat.

"So, remember the other night on the porch, after you dropped me off?"

He smirked and nodded.

"Yeah, I think I remember," he teased.

"Well," you began. "My family saw us on the doorbell camera the next morning," you cringed.

He laughed, throwing his head back just a bit so he could still keep an eye on the road, and shook his head.

"Oh, I hate those fuckin' things," he said, but he was still laughing.

You grinned, your nerves and unease dissipating quickly.

"You're not embarrassed?"

"Nah," he said with a shrug, then turned his head briefly to look at you. "I'm sure we put on a good show."

You giggled, your cheeks tinting pink, and turned your head to look out the window.

"Alright," he said after a minute. "I've waited long enough and I gotta ask."

You swiveled back towards him, waiting for him to continue.

"What's the story with the nickname?"

You groaned and squeezed your eyes shut.

"It's so unbelievably stupid," you said, but he shook his head.

"Well, now you gotta tell me."

"Fine," you said, rolling your eyes, but your playful smile gave you away.

"It's Buck, or Bucky. Short for Bucket," you began.

"Bucket?" he repeated, bewildered.

"I warned you it was stupid!" you protested, and he chuckled. "Anyway, when I was little, my sister and her friends had a sleepover one time, and I overheard them swearing."

"Okay," Joel said slowly, nodding along while he kept his eyes pinned to the road.

"I always looked up to my sister, I was like her shadow when I was younger. So, when I heard them swearing, I wanted to be like them, too, you know?"

"Yeah, I follow," he replied, still not sure how the story related to your nickname.

"Well, thing is, I misheard them. They were saying 'fuck it', but I heard 'bucket'," you explained. "So I went to school and, thinking I sounded cool, I would say 'bucket' to all my friends. We were little, they had no idea what I was talking about, so I explained to them it's a swear word. Before I knew it, I had the whole class saying 'bucket' any time someone dropped something, or got a bad grade on a test, or whatever."

Joel howled with laughter, gripping the steering wheel for dear life as he tried to make it safely into his driveway.

"The principal called my parents and told them what was happening," you continued, joining in and giggling. "They got me home, and-" you doubled over, clutching your stomach as Joel put the truck in park and slumped over the steering wheel, his body shaking as he laughed.

"And I had to tell them the whole story, about why I kept saying it and-" you wiped the tears from your eyes as you took a deep breath. "And - oh my god - my sister got grounded for two weeks-" Another fit of laughter washed over Joel, tears streaming down his face.

"Wait, wait," he gasped, unbuckling his seatbelt so he could turn to face you. "You got in trouble in school, and your sister ended up gettin' punished?"

"Yes!" you squeaked, still giggling.

"Oh, shit," he breathed, panting as he leaned the back of his head against the seat rest. "Can't believe you thought that was stupid. That's gotta be the funniest thing I heard in a long while."

"Well, I'm glad I could brighten your day," you said, still grinning.

He rolled his head back towards you, his soft gaze drifting up and down your frame quickly before stopping on your eyes.

"You really do, y'know," he said quietly, and you furrowed your brow, tilting your head in confusion.

"Brighten my day," he clarified.

You bit your lower lip and smiled, looking away as the flush began to return to your cheeks.

"Come on, charmer. Why don't we go teach you how to wrap presents?"

You never really gave much thought as to what Joel's house would look like, but once you saw it, it immediately felt like him. It was a smaller, two bedroom house. When you first walked in, you entered a living room with a leather couch and an oversized recliner. A big screen TV was front and center across from the couch, with a few framed pictures of Joel and Sarah mounted on the wall next to it.

"You want somethin' to drink?" Joel asked, making sure to slide the coat from your shoulders before shrugging off his own.

"Maybe just water," you said, following him into the kitchen. You gasped when you saw his cupboards and immediately rushed over to them while he pulled two bottles of water from the stainless steel fridge.

"Oh my god, Joel," you whispered, running your fingers gently over the designs. Each one looked different but somehow they all were cohesive. Some had small flowers or butterflies carved into the corners, while others had simple, yet intricate designs grooved into the wood.

"Had to practice somehow," he said, feeling his cheeks flush as he walked over to hand you your water.

"God, it's so beautiful," you said breathlessly, unable to look away from the dark, stained wood. Your fingers danced over some stars etched into one of doors, your eyes wide with awe, but he was focused entirely on you. He couldn't get enough of watching the delicate features on your face light up whenever you found something new that pleased you.

"How long does this take for you to do?" you asked, finally dragging your eyes away to look up at him. Your throat tightened when you noticed the heat behind his stare, your pulse fluttering in your neck.

"Depends," he murmured. "Some are faster than others, but I prefer to go slow and take my time. Anythin' worthwhile takes time. Gotta show it respect, gotta care for it."

His low and sultry tone made your face flush, forgetting for a moment you were talking about woodworking.

"Y-yeah," you stammered, clearing your throat. Suddenly, you were feeling short of breath. "That makes sense."

He gazed down at you for another moment, his eyes slowly raking over your face as if committing it to memory before speaking again. Your entire body felt hot, and you cursed yourself for wearing such a thick sweater.

"Ready to go upstairs?" he murmured, still staring at you in a way that made your spine tingle.

"Huh?" you whispered, completely entranced by his deep, brown eyes.

"The presents?" he reminded you with a small smirk.

"Oh, right," you said, finally blinking and looking away. You shakily opened your water bottle after he turned around to lead you to the stairs, your mouth suddenly extremely dry.

As you walked up the steps, you tried to get a look at the pictures that lined the wall, but it was difficult to do without tripping. You thought you had finally gotten your head on straight after that moment in the kitchen, but when you realized he was leading you to his bedroom, you felt the tremble return to your hands.

"Sorry, had to hide everythin' in my closet, she's too nosy," he said over his shoulder.

"No problem," you squeaked, trying not to stare at his neatly made bed. Your eyes briefly drifted over the end tables filled with personal effects. You thought you saw a chapstick, a cord for a phone charger, and a worn paperback book, but you didn't want him to catch you, so you looked away quickly.

He opened his closet and you were surprised to find his clothes packed away so neatly. For a bachelor, he kept a really clean house. He pulled out the bags of gifts from the shelf above his clothes, then the wrapping paper, which was leaning against the corner.

"D'you think we got enough room?" he asked, glancing around at the floor.

"Yeah, of course," you said, sitting down crossed legged on the carpet. You reached out for the wrapping paper and rolled it out in front of you as he sat down at your side, taking out her gifts one by one. You felt yourself involuntarily clench as you watched his large hands deftly lay out each item on the floor, his muscles twitching slightly under the tanned skin of his exposed forearms.

"I know what you're thinkin'," he said, and your eyes widened in surprise. "I spoil her, I know, but she's such a good kid, I can't help myself."

That was definitely not what you were thinking, but you chose to keep that to yourself.

"I think it's sweet," you told him. "You seem like a really good dad."

Now it was his turn to blush. He tried to turn his head away so you wouldn't see, murmuring his thanks as you each picked an item to start. After a quick tutorial, which included way too much tape and ripped paper, Joel finally seemed to get the technique down. It only took until about halfway through the pile for you to muster up the courage to bring up a topic you couldn't help but be curious about.

"So," you began, hoping you came off nonchalant. "Is Sarah with her mom this Christmas, or..."

Joel's fingers fumbled for a moment with the wrapping paper, but he quickly recovered.

"Uh, no," he replied, keeping his eyes cast down on the shoe box in front of him. "She's not in Sarah's life anymore."

"Oh," you said, unable to keep the surprise from your voice, but you didn't push him any further. Your mind was scrambling, trying to think of something else to talk about, when he sighed and leaned back, abandoning the gift.

"I'm sorry, this is all so new to me, I probably should've told you about her sooner," he said, feeling guilty, but you quickly shook your head.

"No, you don't have to-"

"I want to," he said, cutting you off. You clamped your mouth shut and turned your body so you could give him your full attention, leaving the hair dryer you were wrapping on the floor next to you.

He drew a shaky breath in and looked up at the ceiling before speaking.

"There's not much to say, really. I'm still not always sure what happened," he began. You nodded, staying quiet and letting him take his time. "We were together since high school, ended up stayin' together after graduation. Sarah was a surprise, we were both still so young but we made it work. It was hard, but once me and Tommy got the business goin', it made things a bit easier."

Your fingers tangled together in your lap as you listened, refusing to say anything until he was done. His gaze drifted towards a fixed point on the wall as he continued.

"From what I gathered, she felt like havin' Sarah so young robbed her from doin' certain things in life," he said heavily. "Said she couldn't do it anymore. Didn't want her life to pass her by and be full of regret."

You bit your lip. The pain was clear as day on his face and it was making your chest ache.

"Well, anyway. I thought maybe she would go off for a couple months, do whatever it was she thought she was missin' out on. Parties, college... other men," he added the last part quietly, and you dropped your gaze to the floor. "Get it out of her system, y'know? But she just... never came back. Eventually, the calls came less and less, and I put two and two together. Didn't even get a courtesy call before I got served with the papers."

He rubbed his eyes, trying so hard not to look like a blubbering idiot in front of you. You reached your hand out and placed it gently on his knee, giving him a reassuring squeeze. He dropped his hand from his face to cover yours, staring at your coupled hands for a moment.

"Joel-"

"It was just so fuckin' hard on Sarah, y'know?" he said, his voice cracking. "I had no idea what to tell her. She cried almost every night, askin' me why her mom didn't love her anymore."

"Oh, Joel," you whispered, unable to hold back any longer. You closed the small gap between you, wrapping your arms around his shoulders and pulling him into your chest, your fingers gently raking through his hair. "I'm so sorry," you told him, burying your nose in the hair on top of his head, breathing in the citrus scent from his shampoo.

He didn't say a word. He just tugged you closer and closed his eyes, leaning into your comforting touch with a deep sigh.

"I'm sorry," he finally managed to croak out. "I'm throwin' way too much at you, I know you didn't sign up for this."

"Shh," you whispered into his hair, then tilted his face up to look at you, his dark brown eyes glassy with unshed tears. "It's okay," you murmured, pressing a soft kiss against his lips. A solitary tear slipped down his cheek when he pulled back to look deep into your eyes.

"It's okay," you repeated, wiping away the tear with the pad of your thumb before placing another gentle kiss against his lips.

He hummed contently against your mouth, sliding his hand up to the back of your neck and pressing his lips more firmly against your own, scared to let you go because if he did, he was sure he would fall apart.

Your grip on his hair tightened as he leaned forward, one strong arm wrapped around your midsection and the other pressed against your back. You mumbled something against his mouth when he tried to lay you down and knocked over a small pile of DVDs.

"Fuck," he whispered and, oh god, the way he said it made your legs turn to jelly and your cheeks flare with heat.

Frustrated, he tightened his grip around you and lifted you up, refusing to break the kiss. A tiny, high pitched squeak slipped past your lips as you wrapped your legs around his hips, letting him carry you to his bed.

He laid you down carefully on top of his plush, navy striped comforter. You sighed into his mouth, your legs loosening around his waist and falling open while you dragged your hands out of his hair and down to his shoulders, wrapping your fingers around his biceps to keep him close. He hovered above you, balancing all his weight on his elbows while his fingers played with the ends of your impossibly soft hair.

He slipped his tongue easily past your lips with a low groan, the noise going straight to your core, making the ache between your legs almost painful while your tongue danced with his, the two already so familiar with each other.

You tipped your head back with a gasp, desperate for air, but he kept going, unable to stop himself. His lips brushed against your jaw before his teeth and prickly beard scraped against the sensitive skin behind your earlobe. You let out a needy whimper and arched your back at the sensation, pushing your breasts into his broad chest as goosebumps spread over your whole body.

"Oh god, Joel," you whined softly, squeezing your eyes shut.

"Yeah, baby?" he replied, his voice thick and muffled against your neck. Baby. Jesus, this man was unraveling you so fast, it was making your head spin.

"I-I know we said this was casual, but-" the words got trapped in your throat as you cut yourself off, unable to finish your thought.

"I know," he said, his voice strained. "Fuck, I know."

He lifted his head away from your neck as he stared down at you, patting your hair back and away from your face as he panted slightly for breath.

You looked up at him, eyes watering as you tried not to think about your time coming to an end in a couple short weeks. You could tell he was thinking the same but didn't want to say it, the pain behind his eyes was obvious.

He blinked a couple times, the clouds clearing as he forced himself to focus on the present. He had you here in his arms, in his bed, underneath him right now. And he was going to be damned if he didn't soak up every single second.

He leaned back down and locked his lips on yours again, this time moving slower, more gentle and tender. He wanted to treat you right. You deserved it, and he wasn't going to give you anything less than what you deserved while he still had you.

You loosened your grip on his arms and allowed your hands to drift to the buttons of his flannel, slowly and shakily undoing them. His heart began to slam against his chest when he realized what you were doing, his mind going fuzzy with desire.

He pulled his head back when you were about halfway down his shirt, looking down hazily at your fingers working open the buttons as he desperately tried to think straight.

"Dad?" Sarah called from downstairs, the front door slamming shut. "Are you here?"

"Shit," Joel mumbled, scrambling off of you as he clumsily tried to redo his buttons. You jumped off the bed, leaning over so you could see into the mirror above his dresser, raking your hands through your tangled hair and quickly fixing your sweater.

"Yeah!" Joel shouted back, glancing over at you to make sure you were decent. "Sorry," he whispered, but you just grinned. Then his eyes fell to the half wrapped presents on the floor.

"Wait! Don't come up-" he called out as he heard her skipping up the steps. Joel grabbed your arm and pulled you out of the room, closing the door behind you both just in time.

"What? Why?" Sarah asked, then froze when she saw you. She looked up at Joel, then back to you, and a slow smile spread across her face.

"Ohhh..." she said with her hands on her hips. "Now I see."

"N-no, it's not what it looks like, she was just helpin' me wrap some gifts," Joel stammered, jutting his thumb over his shoulder. You shifted your weight nervously as you looked back and forth between them.

"Then why are you missing a button on your shirt?"

You both glanced down at his flannel, and she was right. He missed fixing a button in all the chaos. Your face flushed beet red as you stared at the ground while Joel hurriedly fixed the button, cursing under his breath. When you dared to look back up at his daughter, she was smirking playfully at you. Joel cleared his throat.

"Sarah, this is-"

"Yeah, I know, I remember from the party. The pretty dress, right?" she asked, and you nodded.

"Yeah, that's right. Nice to see you again," you said awkwardly.

She nodded, still smirking and looking at you and Joel. You could tell she loved catching her dad in this uncomfortable situation.

"Oh, crap. I forgot. Uncle Tommy is waiting for you in the driveway, said he needed your help unloading some work stuff out from the back of his truck," Sarah said.

"Ah, dammit, alright. You okay for a couple minutes?" he asked you, eyebrows raised.

"Of course," you said. He nodded, walking down the hall past Sarah, muttering "be good" to her as he walked by.

You listened as Joel made his way down the stairs and out the front door, leaving you and Sarah in silence, still staring at one another.

"I'm sorry, we really were wrapping gifts," you assured her.

"It's okay," she said with a shrug. "Last year he used duct tape on my presents, I know he needs the help."

You giggled, causing her to laugh, as well.

"Do you play an instrument?" you asked, just noticing the case on the floor next to her feet.

"Yeah, violin. I had practice after school today," she said, picking it up.

"Oh, cool. I played piano growing up, but I was never any good," you said, sliding your hands in the back pockets of your jeans.

"I have my school's Christmas recital on Friday," she said. "My first solo."

"Oh my god!" you said, clapping your hands together, genuinely impressed. "That's incredible! You must be so excited!"

"Yeah, at first, but now I'm getting nervous," she said, glancing down at the case in her hand. "You wanna hear me play?"

"Duh. Absolutely," you said with a grin. Her eyes lit up and a huge smile spread across her face again.

"O-okay. This is my room right here," she said, turning to her right and opening the door. "Sorry it's messy, my dad's gonna kill me."

"It's totally fine," you said, walking in and sitting down at the edge of her bed. You glanced around the room as she set up her music stand. On the pink walls, she had posters up of her favorite bands with a calendar and string lights draped across the room.

"I really like your room," you said, squinting to look at the stickers and drawings she had on her headboard.

"Thanks," she said sheepishly. "My dad let me do whatever I wanted."

You were about to comment on the various trophies she had on her windowsill when Sarah spoke again.

"Just so you know, I don't mind that you're seeing my dad."

Your eyes shot up to hers in surprise, not sure what to say. You hadn't really had a chance to talk to Joel about your relationship and how that would affect his daughter.

"He's been in such a good mood this past week, and he won't tell me but I know it's because of you," she said, pinning you with a familiar brown gaze.

"Oh, that's so sweet, Sarah," you said, finally finding your voice. "Thank you. That means a lot."

"You're welcome," she said. "I just want him to be happy again."

You dropped your gaze to your lap, your chest tightening at the thought of Joel being so lonely all these years.

"Me, too," you whispered, still looking down. Sarah regarded you for a minute before slapping her palms against the tops of her thighs and leaned down to pick up her violin.

"You ready?" she asked. You looked up and nodded, giving her an encouraging smile and sat back to listen as she began playing a hauntingly beautiful version of 'Silent Night'.

Sarah got about halfway through the song when she hit the wrong note and abruptly stopped, dropping her chin to her chest in frustration.

"Hey, it's okay," Joel heard you say softly as he walked back up the stairs. He paused at the top, right outside Sarah's room to listen.

"It's okay to make mistakes. Just go slower, take your time. Anything worthwhile takes time," you told her, and he smiled when he heard his earlier words to you repeated back to his daughter. He took a step forward to lean against the doorframe and watch the two of you, your back to him as you sat on her bed.

"Okay," Sarah said, taking a deep breath and closing her eyes before lifting the violin to her chin and starting over.

Joel listened to Sarah play the same song he's heard a million times already in just the past month alone, but kept his eyes trained on you. The way you gave her your full, undivided attention and encouraged her with a smile or a thumbs up when she would glance over at you shyly made his chest ache.

When Sarah successfully finished the song with no mistakes, you jumped up from the bed, clapping and cheering for her, making Sarah giggle and hide behind her hands.

Fuck, this was going to be so hard.

"Dad?" Sarah asked the next morning over her bowl of cereal.

"Yeah, baby girl?" he replied, frowning as he pulled his bread from the toaster. He sucked his fingertips into his mouth, trying to bring some relief to the quickly reddening skin.

"Can your friend come to my recital tomorrow?"

Joel froze, his fingers still pressed against his tongue as he slowly turned around to look at her. He dropped his hand and took a deep breath.

"I don't know if that's such a good idea," he replied.

"You don't think she would wanna go?" Sarah asked, her eyebrows pinched together.

"No, it's not that, I'm sure she would," he said, trying to find the right words.

"Then what's the problem?"

Joel sighed and picked his mug up from the counter, then walked over to join her at the table.

"She doesn't live here, baby. She's goin' back to New York in another week or so, I don't want you gettin' too attached," he finally admitted, watching Sarah closely as she considered his words.

"Well, you guys like each other, right?" she asked, and Joel smirked.

"Yeah, but it ain't that simple."

"Yes, it is, Dad," she said, rolling her eyes and dipping her spoon back into her bowl. "My friend Katy was dating this guy last year and he switched schools over the summer. They're still together, it doesn't matter," Sarah said with a shrug, taking a bite of cereal.

If the topic didn't fill Joel with a sense of dread, he would have chuckled at the comparison, but instead he just sat there quietly, watching his daughter as she finished her cereal and scrolled on her phone.

Sarah pulled on her backpack and was sliding on her sneakers to catch the bus when she called back to Joel over her shoulder.

"Just ask her, okay? Please, Dad?"

Joel sighed, hanging his head between his shoulders and paused his hands over the dishes in the sink.

"Alright," he relented, and he heard Sarah clap her hands behind him before slamming the front door shut.

You: good morning :)

Joel Miller: Good Morning, sweetheart. I didn't think you would be up this early.

You: couldn't fall back asleep. What are you doing

Joel Miller: Just getting to work. Why couldn't you fall back asleep?

You thought about it for a minute from under the pile of blankets on your bed, rolling to your side before answering.

You: I was thinking about you...

Joel Miller: Good thoughts, I hope?

You: VERY ;)

His throat went dry when he opened the text. He glanced around outside his car window, making sure he was still the only one on the job site before replying.

Joel Miller: What are you trying to tell me, baby?

You smirked and bit down on your lip.

You: I was wishing you were in bed with me right now

"Shit," he muttered to himself, glancing around once again before adjusting his pants.

Joel Miller: Me too, what are you wearing?

The answer came back almost immediately.

You: nothing

He groaned and rubbed his palms roughly over his face.

Joel Miller: You're killing me, baby. I have to get working in a minute.

You: i'm sorry ;)

You: I promised my parents I would go to dinner with them tonight, but are you free tomorrow?

Joel took a deep breath, trying to clear the onslaught of inappropriate thoughts from his head when he remembered his promise to Sarah.

Joel Miller: It's Sarah's recital tomorrow night. She asked me to invite you this morning, did you want to go?

He nervously chewed his cheek for a moment before sending another text.

Joel Miller: No pressure, I can tell her you're busy.

He sent his second text right as your reply came through.

You: I would love to!

He grinned and raked his fingers through his hair. Tommy's knuckles tapped on the outside of Joel's window, making him jump. He held up a finger before sending you a quick answer.

Joel Miller: Sounds great. I'll pick you up. Try to go back to sleep. Dream of me.

Joel opened the door and slid his phone in his back pocket, a stupid grin etched across his face as he joined his brother in the half-built storefront they were working on.

"Oh man, you got it bad," Tommy said with a chuckle when he saw the look on Joel's face.

"Alright, what do you think of this one?" you asked Cassie as you stepped out of the bathroom modeling the sixth dress of the day.

"I liked the red one better," she said, glancing up from her phone.

"Are you sure? This one is a little more chic," you said, twisting around to look at your backside in the mirror.

"It's a high school recital, Buck. I don't think anyone is expecting 'chic'," she teased, and you rolled your eyes.

"Well, I just want to look nice, is all," you said, sitting next to her on your bed in a huff. You tapped your phone screen, frowning when all you had was another text from Sydney and nothing from Joel. You opened it up anyway, curiosity getting the best of you.

Sydney: OMG!!!!!!

You sent back three question marks and locked your phone with a sigh.

"You still wanna get together next week so we can look at apartments online for you?" she asked.

"Yeah," you said sadly, looking out the window.

"What's wrong?"

"Nothing," you told her. "Just not ready to go back yet."

"Could that be because of a certain sexy contractor?" she asked, raising an eyebrow at you.

"Shut up," you smirked, tossing a pillow at her lightly.

"Ooo you like him! Lookit how red you're getting!"

"I'm gonna kill you when that baby's out, you know that, right?" you giggled.

"Yeah, yeah, sure," Cassie said, looking back down at her phone as the smile slowly faded from her face. "You know you don't have to go back, right?"

"What do you mean? My job is there, my life is there... everything is there," you replied. "Of course I have to go back."

"What life, though?" she asked, and you frowned at her. "Seriously, Buck. Aside from your job, which you hate, what's left?"

"Well, my friends are there. And I don't hate my job that much. I mean, everyone hates their job a little bit," you said with a shrug.

"Is this what you expected to do when you were in college? Is this what you wanted?" Cassie pressed, sitting up on the bed. "Are you even happy?"

You paused, letting her words roll around in your head for a moment.

"Well, I mean..." you trailed off, not sure how to answer her question.

"If you have to think about it this long, I think you know the answer," your sister said quietly. You groaned and rolled off the bed.

"I'm going back. I have to. I can't just give up because some guy broke my heart," you said, turning around so she could unzip the back of your dress.

"I'm just saying, think about it," Cassie replied. "I wouldn't hate it if my child's aunt was in their life more than twice a year!" she called after you as you shut the door to the bathroom.

Joel eagerly jogged up the porch steps and rang the doorbell, very aware of the camera this time while he fiddled with the cuffs on his dark red button down shirt. He heard high heels clicking on the other side of the door and the corners of his mouth turned up into a smile, which quickly vanished when you opened the door and he saw the dress you were wearing.

"Hi," you said with a shy smile, pulling a soft looking white cardigan on over your shoulders.

He thought he had greeted you. He could have sworn he said something, anything, that didn't make him look like a complete idiot, but apparently nothing came out because you scrunched your eyebrows together when you saw his face.

"Are you okay?" you asked, pulling the door shut behind you.

"Yeah, it's just - Jesus, you look so good," he managed to finally say, tilting his head back to stare up at the roof of the porch for a moment, taking a deep breath.

"Thank you," you said with a giggle. "You don't look half bad, yourself."

He rubbed his forehead, exasperated and flustered before pulling you quickly into his arms and latching his mouth onto yours with a groan.

"Joel," you pulled back breathlessly with a small smile and leaned your head to the side, trying to silently remind him of the doorbell. His eyes raked over you hungrily before shaking his head and pulling you back into a deep kiss.

Fuck the camera, let them see.

You giggled against his mouth, causing him to smile and break the kiss.

"Come on, I wanna get good seats," you said, rubbing your thumb over his lower lip to wipe off your lipstick that transferred. It caused his stomach to clench. That sweet, little intimate gesture made him ache for more so badly that he could hardly breathe.

He walked you around the front of his truck, opening the door and giving you a hand so you could hop onto the seat, the gorgeous red dress you were wearing hugging your curves just right and distracting him to no end.

On the walk around to the driver's side, he mentally scolded himself, reminding himself over and over that tonight was a big deal for his little girl and he needed to stay focused.

As he drove down the street, he realized that his hand instinctively found yours across the seat, his body craving the warmth and softness of your own. How on earth was he going to go back to the life he had before, now that he knows what it's like to bask in the heat of your touch?

Once he got to the school, he found a parking spot and jumped out of the truck. You had figured out by now that he preferred you to wait so he could open the car door for you, so you did. Swinging your legs over the side of the seat, you slid down into his waiting arms, your hands gently coming to rest on the tops of his shoulders. He gazed down at you with his arms loosely hanging around your waist. You saw his adam's apple bob in his throat while he let himself get lost in your warm, beautiful eyes. You lifted a finger from his shoulder, tracing an invisible line down the side of his cheek as you stared up at him with your plush lips parted so invitingly that it made his knees weak.

"Joel! Hey!" Tommy's voice called out from behind, snapping you both out of the moment. Joel sighed and untangled himself from you, taking your hand and leading you forward so he could shut the door before turning around to find his brother.

You could see the family resemblance immediately as Tommy approached you with a wide grin. His hair was a bit darker and a lot longer, and his beard was less full than Joel's, but he had the same soft, brown eyes that you had grown to know and love.

Love? Oh, no.

"Hey, Tommy," Joel said as he got closer, his hand pressed firmly on the small of your back. "This is-"

"Oh, I know who she is. How're you doin', darlin'?" Tommy asked, pulling you into a bear hug, taking you by surprise.

"I-I'm good," you squeaked shyly once he released you. "Nice to meet you."

"I've been dyin' to meet the little lady who's got my brother all wrapped up," he replied with a grin.

"Tommy!" Joel seethed warningly at your side, but you just giggled.

"I'm just messin' around. She knows that, right?" he said, shoving his hands in his coat pocket and rolling on the balls of his feet. "Supposed to snow next week, can you believe it?"

"Yeah, I heard we might get a couple feet," Joel said, steering you toward the doors to the auditorium. "Better get your shovel ready."

You settled in between the two brothers as you found a decent spot in the fourth row. Joel draped his arm around the back of your chair while he chatted with Tommy about work. You inadvertently leaned to the side and rested your shoulder against his chest as you glanced around the room, admiring the lit up garlands around the windows and Christmas trees on the stage with fake presents underneath.

When their conversation died down, Tommy pulled out his phone and began scrolling through social media, holding it low between his spread knees with his chin tucked into his chest.

Joel tilted his face forward to press his lips on the top of your head, breathing in a deep and contented breath. A small smile played across your lips as you turned your gaze up towards him, resting your cheek gently on his shoulder. He looked down at you with a smile and planted a chaste kiss on your forehead, and as each of you slid your eyes closed for a moment, Tommy angled his phone to snap a quick picture, smiling to himself and making a mental note to show his brother later.

The lights dimmed and you all straightened up in your seats. You listened to the music teacher make a small speech at the beginning and politely clapped afterwards. You saw Sarah twice throughout the concert as part of the orchestra, smiling at how focused and beautiful she looked in her white dress. As the concert wound down, Sarah finally came out on stage for her solo, and the three of you eagerly leaned forward. At the last minute, you remembered to pull out your phone and start a video, telling yourself you were doing it for Joel so that he could be in the moment, but you knew you would end up watching it by yourself when you went back to New York City.

The performance was flawless. When it was over, the three of you lept up from your seats, cheering, jumping and clapping, making her wave and blush as she exited the stage. You sat down, giggling, as the people surrounding you gave you all polite smiles and chuckles, then quieted down for the finale.

When the lights came back up, everyone stood from their seats, murmuring and laughing while waiting for their kids to come out from backstage and take pictures. You saw a flash of white out of the corner of your eye and moved out of the way just in time for Sarah to run and jump up into Joel's arms, burying her face in his neck. He squeezed his eyes shut, his arms wrapped around her tightly, murmuring praise in her ear. You felt warmth spread across your chest as you watched them have their moment, the corners of your mouth turned up into a smile with your hands clasped together against your chest.

He let her down gently and she turned to give Tommy a quick hug. He spun her around, making her giggle and fidget with her dress before she turned to you.

"You came!" she exclaimed, wrapping her arms loosely around your waist. Your eyes widened in surprise, not expecting such affection from her, but you quickly returned the hug.

"Of course I came! Thank you for inviting me," you said, pulling back with a grin. "You were absolutely perfect, I took a video, I'll send it to your dad so he can show you later."

"I did exactly what you told me, I slowed down and took my time," she beamed, and it gave you a new feeling deep in your chest that you never felt before.

"That's great, Sarah," you replied, your throat tight with emotion. Tommy dropped his gaze from you and ticked his jaw to the side, finally understanding why Joel was hesitant to let Sarah know about the two of you.

"Dad?" Sarah asked, turning away from you. "Can I sleep over at Katy's? She's having a bunch of girls over and her mom said it was okay."

"Uh, sure, baby girl. Don't you need clothes and stuff?"

"I have stuff I keep here in my locker for gym," she said.

"Well, alright, lemme talk to her mom first," he replied, glancing around the room.

"Thank you! She's right over here," she said, grabbing his hand. "Thanks for coming!" she called back last minute over her shoulder to you and Tommy, and you both smiled and waved as she dragged her father across the room.

"She's so talented," you said, turning to Tommy. He looked down at you and gave you a weak smile.

"Yeah, she's somethin' else," he said with a nod. "Hey, listen. I'm havin' a get together next week at my house. Little Christmas party, I guess. I invited a guy I met at your parents' house - Josh? He's comin' with his wife, Joel and Sarah'll be there, I'd love for you to come by if you can."

"Josh is my brother in law," you clarified for him. "That sounds great, I'll be there, thank you."

"You're welcome," Tommy said, then his brows pinched together as he opened his mouth again to speak. "Joel might kill me for sayin' this, but you gotta know how happy you've -"

"Ready to go?" Joel asked, sneaking up beside you. Tommy cleared his throat and gave his brother an innocent smile.

"Yep," you replied, dropping your hand to find his at your side, lacing your fingers together and giving him a gentle squeeze.

After saying goodbye to Tommy, Joel slowly led you through the parking lot to his truck, desperately trying to think of something else you could do, not ready to drop you off yet. He knew the time you had together was coming to an end, and he wanted to soak up every precious second. Especially after the way he saw you with Sarah: so warm and sweet and patient. He couldn't remember the last time he saw his daughter's eyes light up that way.

He prided himself on being a good father since his wife left. Always making sure to put Sarah first, that she got everything she could ever want or need. Especially his love. When his ex abandoned them, he made sure Sarah got every ounce of love he had, hoping it would help make up for the loss. But as hard as he tried, he could never fully fill both roles. There were just some things that a mother provided for her daughter that Joel couldn't give.

He didn't realize it until he saw you with Sarah earlier that night, and then it felt like everything shifted into focus for the first time in his life.

He held out his hand to help you get back into his truck, making sure your legs were safely tucked in before he gently shut the door.

Sitting in the driver's seat gripping the steering wheel, he stared straight ahead for a moment in complete silence, the keys still in his coat pocket while his mind reeled.

"Is everything okay?" you asked timidly. He blinked and turned to you.

"Yeah," he said hoarsely. He swallowed and looked at his watch.

"You wanna get coffee or somethin'? I know it's gettin' late but I'm sure some place's open," he said, deep in thought as he considered the cafés nearby.

"Don't you have coffee at your house?" you asked shyly. His eyes snapped up to yours and he saw the flush creeping up your neck and the rapid rise and fall of your chest.

Oh.

"Yeah, yes," he croaked, nervously clearing his throat. "Let's do that. I have- yeah, good idea," he stammered, fumbling with the keys in his pocket.

You smirked as you watched his shaky hand turn the key in the ignition. He twisted around to back out of the parking spot, and this time you gave into temptation, unbuckling your seatbelt so you could slide over and tuck yourself under his arm. He immediately pulled you closer, not even caring that you weren't wearing your seatbelt. He would make sure to drive safe. Nothing could possibly ruin that night. He wouldn't let it.

At stop lights, you would run your hand up his chest and plant small kisses against the corner of his mouth, filling him with a radiating bliss he never felt before.

Once you got back to his house, you shrugged off your sweater and trailed behind him as he made his way into the kitchen. You leaned against the wall and watched as he opened one of the cupboards - the one with the small birds carved into the bottom - and pulled down a can of coffee.

"I don't think I have any decaf," he said turning to look at you.

"I don't want coffee, Joel," you said lowly. He swallowed roughly and put the can on the counter.

"What d'you want, then?"

You pushed yourself off the wall and slowly walked towards him, his eyes skating up and down your body as you approached. Wrapping your arms around his waist, you tilted your face up to gaze at him, your mouth hovering over his own.

"I want you."

His eyes fluttered closed as your lips slotted against his, his rough hands immediately coming up to cup your smooth face, holding you firmly against his mouth. Christ, he would never get tired of kissing you. If he could do it every single day for the rest of his life, he would. He knew it seemed crazy. He knew you just met, but he couldn't help the way you made him feel.

"Let's go upstairs," you whispered, nipping at his lower lip.

He couldn't speak. He just nodded in a daze and let you lead him coyly up the steps, then turned around to walk backwards down the hall towards his bedroom so you could pull him tightly against your body. His big hands gripped your waist while his tongue slipped past your lips, searching for its mate.

You reached behind you blindly, your hand fighting with the doorknob as his big frame caged you in against the wood, his masculine scent invading your senses and making it difficult to think. Finally, the door swung open and you both stumbled in, a giggle erupting from your throat as your fingers got to work undoing the buttons on his dress shirt.

You hurriedly tugged his button down off, leaving it in a heap on the floor as you slid your palms underneath the white t-shirt he had on, feeling the warm skin of his stomach and chest for the first time.

"Off," you whispered, your heart getting stuck in your throat when he yanked the shirt over his head, leaving his upper body completely bare to you. Your mouth went dry as you drank him in, then lunged forward, your lips brushing up his sternum until you reached his collarbone. You sucked on a bit of tanned skin there with a moan, then slipped your tongue out to press wetly against the red mark you left, feeling drunk off the taste of his sweat.

He gently pushed you backwards so he could ease you down onto his bed, his breath growing erratic and desperate with each little bite you left on his chest. God, has anyone ever desired him this much before? Has he really been missing out on this his entire life?

"Baby, we're gonna have to stop soon if you don't want this to go any further," he murmured. He found himself in the familiar position of hovering above you while his hand slid down your leg and toyed with the hem of your dress.

"I don't think I can take much more, tell me to stop," he whispered when you didn't answer, running the tip of his nose softly against your cheek.

"I don't want you to stop," you gasped as his fingers slipped underneath your dress. You tilted your head back and moaned when you felt his fingertips brush against the damp fabric of your panties.

His mouth hungrily devoured the exposed cleavage of your breasts, growing frustrated with the fabric of your dress keeping him from seeing all of you.

"Sit up," he demanded, leaning back and pulling his hand from between your legs. You obeyed, and he made short work of your zipper, pulling it all the way down so you could shimmy out, leaving you in just your underwear.

"Oh, fuck," he whispered when he realized you weren't wearing a bra. You let yourself fall back gently on the bed, spreading your arms out above your head so he could see every inch of you in the moonlight.

He couldn't believe this was actually happening. He kept waiting for his alarm to go off and reality to slap him across the face, but it never came. His heart was pounding so fast, he was sure you could hear it as he leaned back down and nibbled at your exposed jaw while his calloused hand cupped your soft breast, his thumb flicking over your hardening nipple.

You scraped your nails over his shoulders and down his chest as you arched your back, pressing into his hand, needing to feel the heat of his skin against your own. Your stomach flipped as you made your way down to his belt, and with shaky fingers, pulled hastily at the leather.

Yanking the belt through the loops with one swift motion, you flung it across the room, making him chuckle against your skin. When you started to work on popping open the button on his dress pants, a devastating thought suddenly occurred to him.

"Shit, wait," he said, putting his hand on top of yours. You frowned up at him, your chest heaving, as you gave him a confused look.

"I don't have any protection," he said through gritted teeth. He hung his head and squeezed his eyes shut angrily. "I-I haven't been with anyone since my ex, and I never thought... fuck," he said, clenching his jaw.

You weighed your options for about half a second before tugging his chin up, forcing him to look at you.

"I'm still on birth control," you told him, searching his eyes. "I mean, only if you're comfortable with it, we don't have to," you said, but in your head you were chanting please, please, please.

"Are you sure?" he asked, panting for air. "I don't wanna make you feel like -"

"Yes," you said, cutting him off by grabbing his face. "Yes. I'm sure, Joel. Please," you whimpered, pulling him back down to you, his mouth crashing down on yours again.

"Please," you whispered again, tipping your head back as his lips left a trail of soft kisses down your throat. "Please, Joel, I need you."

His mouth stuttered against your neck. Hearing you beg and say you needed him when he never thought he would ever be needed like this in his whole life made his mind go blank.

"Okay," he rasped. "Okay, baby."

He tugged at the zipper on his black pants and pulled them off as quickly as he could without leaving you. You reached down to help him, hooking your fingers over the band of his boxers and shoving them down. He kicked them off before yanking down your panties, dropping them on the floor next to his clothes.

You eagerly spread your legs so he could settle his hips between them. You glanced down with a small gasp when you saw the size of him and you felt your cheeks flare. Jesus Christ.

He didn't seem to notice your reaction when he was too wrapped up in staring at the wet heat between your legs, pulsing and waiting, just for him. He slid a finger gently between your folds, making you moan and your back arch. Fuck, he loved how responsive you were to his touch.

He readjusted so he was kneeling between your legs. His palms slid up your calves, past your knees and to your inner thighs, pressing them down into the mattress so you were spread wide.

He lined himself up at your center, glancing up at you quickly to make sure you were ready. You swallowed and nodded, your eyes filled with desire, desire for him, something he still couldn't fathom but decided not to question. He pressed forward gently, notching himself against you before falling forward on his elbows.

He kissed the tip of your nose as he eased himself inside you, pausing when he heard you gasp and felt you tense under him.

"More," you finally croaked, your nails coming up to rake against his scalp. He let out the breath he was holding and pushed in further, his eyes fluttering shut and his mouth falling open as he felt you slowly stretch around him so perfectly, like you were made just for him.

"Oh, god," he sighed, dropping his face to the crook of your neck after he fully sheathed himself inside you. He dragged his mouth across your chest, leaving a wet trail from his tongue and red marks from his scratchy beard in his wake. He waited until he felt your muscles relax under him before he slowly rolled his hips, dragging himself in and out as his teeth scraped over your tightening nipples. You moaned his name softly, the sound permanently etched in his brain, a sound he will refuse to forget for the rest of his life.

He began to roll his hips faster at your encouragement, becoming obsessed with the way you felt and the sounds you made, and it was all for him. He spent so much of his life giving to everyone around him, he never truly felt like anyone was able or willing to give him what he needed in return until now. The recognition was depressing and freeing at the same time. Now that he finally had what he always wanted, what he always needed, he was going to lose you and there was nothing he could do about it.

Each moan from your throat and each kiss from your lips dragged him down deeper and deeper until he collided head first with the stunning, yet so painfully obvious, realization that he was deliriously in love with you. It was insane, he knew that. But it didn't make it any less true.

"Joel," you gasped, pulling him out of his trance and back to the present.

"Yeah, baby? I'm here. I'm right here," he whispered, planting soft kisses all over your face.

You bit down on your lower lip and squeezed your eyes shut. The sheer intensity behind his gaze coupled with the agony of only getting to experience this for one more short week made tears burn in the backs of your eyes.

You felt your orgasm begin to swell deep in your belly while your breath became more ragged and your vision went spotty. It shouldn't feel this good. This was cruel, to be able to experience something like this just to have it brutally ripped away from you. It wasn't fair, yet you never wanted it to stop.

He could feel it. It's been years, and it was never, ever like this, but he still knew. The way you whimpered and clawed at his back while your walls squeezed him so tightly, he thought he might pass out.

"Open your eyes," he panted. "I wanna look at you."

You forced your eyes open, now unable to hold back the tears that pooled there as two drops trickled down the side of your face, getting lost in your hair.

"It's okay, I got you," he whispered lovingly, staring deep into your eyes, seeing everything you didn't dare say out loud.

"You can let go, baby," he told you, his hips snapping against you ruthlessly, desperate to come at the same time.

You felt the wave rip through you like fire, the power and emotion behind it unlike anything you ever felt before. More tears poured from your eyes as you cried out his name, your thighs squeezing his hips so tightly you weren't sure you would be able to stand after.

He followed seconds later with a deep groan, spilling himself deep inside you while murmuring praise and wiping away your tears with his thumb.

"Why're you cryin', did I hurt you?" he asked, his voice filled with so much concern that it broke your heart. You shook your head, wiping the tears away with the back of your hand, but fresh ones just took their place.

"C'mon, talk to me," he urged, leaning up a bit as he softened inside you.

"What are we gonna do, Joel?" you blubbered pathetically. He took a shaky breath in and tenderly tucked your hair behind your ear.

"I don't know, baby, but we'll figure somethin' out. We gotta," he said with a sigh.

"I can't lose you," you whispered, pressing your forehead against his and closing your eyes.

"You'll never lose me, I can promise you that," he replied, pressing a gentle kiss against your swollen lips.

He waited until your tears slowed down before sliding out of you with a hiss. Rolling off to your side, he wrapped his arms around your middle and pulled you close against his chest, and as you finally drifted off in his embrace, he thought about all of the options available before you, determined to find a solution.

Tag list: @lola8888673 @pedropascalsbbg @nandan11 @sushiumex @serenadingtigers @jjlevin @survivingandenduring @amyispxnk @mysterious-moonstruck-musings @merz-8 @wonyoungismind @fandomscollide @anoverwhelmingdin @cayleejx16 @msjjekyll @lizzie-cakes @hexedbywanda @harriedandharassed @joeldjarin - lmk if i missed anyone, if your name is crossed out it means it won't let me tag you

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babygorewhore · 5 months ago

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Mmmm..something about spitting kink with Older!Rafe…being Toppers younger half sister.

Warnings! Spitting kink! Daddy kink! Degrading! Choking! Unprotected sex! Age gap but age of Rafe not said! Dividers by @xxbimbobunnyxx Very short.

“Thank you once again for letting me stay the night. My car is still in the shop and Topper isn’t able to pick me up.” You sigh and sit down on Rafe’s guest bed.

“Yeah, yeah, no worries. He’d kill me if I let you go out in the dark without a car.” Rafe leaned against the wall.

You gently bite your lip as you adjust higher on the mattress. Rafe was older than you. You were twenty five and Toppers younger half sister. The age gap wasn’t necessarily head turning but it was enough to cause your best friend to text you and send side eye emojis.

“What’s wrong? Need me to read you a bedtime story?” Rafe snorted and you rolled your eyes.

“Oh yeah, I’m so scared, Rafe. I need you to stay here and tuck me in.” You playfully pout with big eyes.

“Don’t do that shit.” Rafe growled and you raise brow.

“Why?”

“It makes me want to spit in your mouth.” He grounded out and you gasped. Your knees rubbed together and your pussy throbbed.

“Who says you can’t?”

Rafe started at you, his hands setting on the back of your head. A dark look in his blue eyes as he leaned down. “Don’t play games with me, sweetheart. I’m not a little boy. I will make you cum until you’re about to pass out.”

Instead of answering, you open your mouth and stick out your tongue.

Rafe moans and moves closer to your face. He spits inside. You close your mouth, nipples hardening as he pushes you flat on your back. “You’re such a fucking slut. Bet you’re soaked just from me treating you like a whore. Is that what you needed? Daddy to spit in that dirty mouth?”

You whine as he shoves down your panties underneath your skirt. Rafe runs his fingers along your slick pussy, pressing your clit. “Such a pretty pussy, baby. Are you going to be a good girl and take it?”

“Mhm! I need it, I need it so badly. Please!” You beg and Rafe spits in your mouth again. Smearing it in across your lips with his arousal coated fingers.

“You’re such a dirty little puppy you know that? About to cum yourself already? Don’t worry, baby doll. I’m gonna take care of your sweet cunt.”

He shoved out of his pants and boxers, his dick hard and red as he presses it into you. You throw your head back with a groan and dig your fingers into his back. His cock fills you to the brim and he thrusts deep in you.

Your pussy tightens around him. You’d never fucked a man his age and now, you’d never go back. “God! Keep going, please! God, please!”

Rafe spits on your mouth again, “God isn’t fucking you. I am. Thank me for fucking your whore pussy.”

“Thank you, thank you, thank you!” You mewl as your body moves from his motions. Rafe grunts as he snarls and wraps his hand around your neck.

“Good girl. That’s a good slut. Are you still gonna be a good whore and take my cum?”

“Yes! Cum in me! Please, Rafe cum in me!” You pleaded and he obliged you.

You feel ropes of cum coat your insides as your own orgasm reaches. You cry out loudly as your stomach uncoils and releases. “Fuckkkk,” You moan and Rafe buries his head in your neck.

He presses kisses against your skin, “Mmmm, gonna worship you. Gonna take care of you in front of your brother then make you a cum slut in here. You got that, princess?”

“Yes, daddy.”

@marchsfreakshow @oceanblvd111 @oceandriveab @starkeysprincess @sturnioloshacker @decodedlvr @redhead1180 @rafescurtainbangz @rafecameroninterlude @rafeinterlude @rowans-posts @ihe4rttwd

#rafe #rafe cameron #rafe obx #rafe outer banks #outerbanks rafe #rafe fic #rafe cameron fanfiction #rafe x reader #rafe imagine #rafe cameron x reader #rafe cameron x you #rafe cameron x y/n #rafe cameron x female reader #rafe cameron x smut #rafe x you #rafe smut #rafe fanfiction

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thepromptswhisperer · 6 months ago

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Late Night Call Prompts

“One more night, and then you’ll finally be back in my arms.”

“Your last emergency call was you crying over not having any more sweets at your place, so excuse me for being distrustful.”

“I wish you were here with me.”

“Could you just… stay on the line? It’s weird having to fall asleep without you.”

A quick call to confirm that they got home safely.

“I know I said you could call me anytime, but… It’s the middle of the night.”

“You’ve been holding the phone to your ear this whole time?” “...Yes? How else would I have been able to talk to you?”

“You’re two rooms over. Why are you calling?”

“Pick up, pick up, pick up.”

“Now?”

“I know we said we’d take a break from us, but I miss you. You and your love for cacti and weird bedtime stories.”

“Take your fucking late-night calls elsewhere! I’m trying to fucking sleep here!”

“You pretending that cushion is me?” “Maybe I did. But then I had to realize that it’s a better cuddler than you are.”

“Sorry. I had my phone on silent.”

“We saw each other earlier. Why didn’t you tell me then?”

Getting a call from a hospital/police station/etc. late at night.

“Then why do you keep picking up?”

“You still there?” “Mhhhmmmm.”

“Did you really think you could run away from me, [name]? No, I will find you everywhere.”

“Can you– Can you pick me up? Please?”

“Let me get this straight: You’re calling me at 3 am, disrupting my beauty sleep on a workday, to ask me out?

“Are you alone?”

“I know it’s stupid, but I needed to hear your voice.”

Threatening to hang up on the other every time they mention something specific.

“What are you wearing right now?”

“Ugh. I knew it was a mistake to give you my number.”

“Why are you whispering?”

“...The only reason why I did pick up was because it’s you.”

“Are you seriously suggesting there are benefits to not sleeping next to me?” “You always steal my covers! I almost had forgotten what it feels like to sleep through the night, all sound and warm.”

“Call me cheesy or a fool, but I needed to wish you sweet dreams.”

“...I thought you forgot about me.” “I’m sorry. Today has been… a lot and I– I wish I could have called you sooner.”

#writing prompts #writing inspiration #late night conversation #dialogue prompts #couple prompts #friendship prompts #writing ideas #prompt list

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idyllcy · 6 months ago

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Much like everyone else, I too am enamored with Girl Dad!Leon

girl dad!Leon who wonders at first just whether or not he could be a good father to a girl, but hopes for the best when you tell him he'll be fine

girl dad!Leon who coos at his sweet daughter in the morning to calm her from her morning tantrum, bouncing her in his arms as he tells you to rest more

girl dad!Leon who rests both of his baby girl's feet on his, calling out "left, right, left, right" as she learns to walk

girl dad!Leon who spins his pretty baby around when she runs over to him no matter where he is

girl dad!Leon who matches outfits with you and his daughter at any. occasion possible

girl dad!Leon who ends up embodying the "do it for her" meme on a hard day, collapsing into you and your daughter's arms to rest his head as his daughter imitates the gentle pats against his back, her smaller hands resembling little thuds instead

girl dad!Leon who plays along with all his baby daughter's stories

"Noooo, daddy! You're supposed to kiss mommy on the mouth to wake her up!" Your daughter huffs, staring up from her book. You had asked Leon if it was really a smart idea to teach her to read earlier than her peers, but as you close your eyes and lay in bed before her bedtime, you really don't find it in yourself to complain.

Leon fights the smile that threatens to crack on his face. "Just a quick kiss?"

"Yes." She pouts. "On the mouth."

You feel Leon's breath against your cheek, failing to fight the smile that breaks on your lips as you hold back a laugh. Leon brushes your hair to the side as he glances at your daughter for her approval, and presses a quick kiss to your lips before you open your eyes slowly.

"And then how does it go, baby?"

"And then." Your daughter flips the page, pointing at you with a puff of her chest. "Mommy stares at daddy."

You listen, staring at Leon's face as he smiles back down at you, waiting for your daughter to give the next order.

Instead, the two of you are met with a yawn from her mouth.

"Okay, baby." Leon gets up to lift her into his arms, pressing his lips to her cheek as she whines. "It seems like this princess' body wants some rest."

"But we didn't finish the story..."

"And they lived happily ever after, right?" You brush her hair to the side, smiling. "The end."

"The people have to wake up first."

"Both mommy and daddy are awake now, hm? Rest well, baby. We'll be here in the morning." Leon pats her back gently as she closes her eyes.

"'night daddy... 'night mommy."

"Sleep well, baby." You scratch gently at her scalp as her breathing slows. "She's so cute."

"The cutest." Leon whispers, hand reaching for yours as he starts towards her room. "Really makes me want another one."

"Okay, not that cute, babe." You mumble, following him anyway. "Is she not enough?"

"She's more than enough, sweetheart." He gives your hand a squeeze. "Thank you, honey. I love you."

"Love you too, Leon."

#i have a comm coming out later today but i don't care even if I'm late for father's day I need this out of my brain #leon kennedy x reader #leon kennedy imagine #resident evil #☾.blend #reader insert #writing this made me throw up (AUGHHHH FLUFF)

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imaginespazzi · 3 months ago

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Part 7: In All My Victories

Masterlist - Part 1 - Part 2 - Part 3 - Part 4 - Part 5 - Part 6 - Part 8 - Part 9 - Part 10 - Part 11

Somebody said you got a new friend (But does she love you better than I can?)

(In which a writer in an EST timezone uses the PST timezone to announce that technically she's still meeting the deadline)

Pairing: Paige Bueckers X Azzi Fudd

Themes: Angst, Fluff, Jealousy

Words: 6.5K

TW: Swearing, Toxic Relationships

A/N: Hello my lovelies! Listen it's past midnight here but it's only around 9 pm in California which is where most of this fic is set so TECHNICALLY I am still meeting my deadline. This chapter is kind of a filler (and I guess that's why I don't love it) because it was gonna be about ~3K longer with another scene but it was either a longer chapter or a Monday chapter and I feel like y'all would prefer a Monday chapter. I have not edited this yet because I simply just don't have the energy to so pretty please point out my errors as you read so I can use them when I edit some time tomorrow. There's probably other stuff I need to say but I'm feeling oddly delirious right now so I'll just end with the usual. Let me know what you liked, what you disliked and what you'd like to see next. Have a lovely rest of your week my loves <3

March 2033

Paige wakes up to a stream of sunlight tapping at her eyelids and someone’s soft breath tickling against her nose. She can feel a tiny hand pressed against her chest -right above her heart- and the weight of another person’s fingers intertwined against her own. The room is silent with the exception of the clock ticking on the wall and the perfectly harmonized breathing of the other people in the room. Stephie and Azzi. And Paige is scared to open her eyes, scared to move even an inch, scared that if she does either of those things, her dreamlike reality will prove to be nothing but a hopeless mirage.

It had taken Paige a moment last night to really register what was happening around her. Dazedly, she had followed Azzi up the stairs into the guest room. She’d watched, albeit unhelpfully, as Azzi had searched out extra pillows, setting up the queen-sized bed so it could fit three people instead of it’s regular duo. It hadn’t sunk in even as Paige had slowly gotten herself ready for bed, finding herself in one of Azzi’s old oversized t-shirts suddenly overwhelmed with how much she’d missed falling asleep embraced in the scent of the younger woman’s favorite lavender and eucalyptus deodorant. Even as she’d made her way back from the bathroom and found Stephie beaming at her from where she was curled into Azzi’s side on bed, Paige still felt like she was simply just watching everything from a facetime call, like she had been while back in Dallas. It wasn’t until Stephie’s bedtime story was finished and the lights were turned off, when Azzi’s hand finally captured hers underneath the comforter and squeezed gently, that it finally clicked for Paige.

Azzi had asked her to stay over.

Azzi had promised she wouldn’t run away.

And as Paige finally lets eyes flutter open, blinking to adjust to the light, she breathes out a sigh of relief at the sight of a promise kept.

Propping herself onto her elbow, she lets herself take in the view of the two people still sound asleep next to her. Paige isn’t a morning person by any means -rarely is she the first person to wake up- but she thinks if this was what she could open her eyes to every time, getting up could become her favorite part of the day.

It’s uncanny how similar Azzi and Stephie are while sleeping. The little girl’s grip on Paige’s shirt is almost as strong as the tight hold her mother has on Paige’s hand. It’s like they’re trying to reel Paige into their world and keep her there forever, like even if she let go, they wouldn’t let her. There’s an air of contentedness on Azzi’s face as she snuggles closer to her daughter and Stephie has a soft smile at being cocooned in the protection of her mother’s arms. And Paige’s whole body aches a little bit because this bed they’re on is definitely not made for three people, but it’s nothing in comparison to the way her heart feels like it might burst from this feeling of and maybe this is how i become whole again.

She presses a kiss against Stephie’s forehead and rubs her thumb against the back of Azzi’s hand before carefully detaching herself from the duo and slipping out of bed. The whole house is still clearly asleep as Paige lethargically brushes and then begins to make her way down the stairs. Her eyes gloss over the pictures placed across the stairwell until they fixate on one that has her in it. It’s an image taken after one of many water fights they’d had at the Fudd household during a hot summer day. Life had been so simple back then when it was water and not bullets that they shot at each other.

Five drenched children are beaming at the camera. Jon and José are posed in some ridiculous stance, their water guns pointed at the camera. Paige, par for the course, is flexing, a far too cocky smirk dancing on her lips because she’d probably won the game (even if nobody else agreed). And then there’s Drew and Azzi. There’s a familiar pang in Paige’s chest as she brushes her fingers over her little brother’s exuberant smile. He’s latched onto the brunette’s back, a blue water balloon in his hand, as Azzi uses one hand on his hip to keep Drew in place and uses her other one to hold a pink water balloon of her own. The Fudds -Azzi- had been as big of a constant in Drew’s life as they had been in Paige’s and she wonders now, as she thinks back to her little brother’s irritation with her joining the Valkyries, if he’d ever forgive her and Azzi for taking that away from him.

“Oh hey good morning,” Tallulah says as Paige lets herself into the kitchen, blanching slightly at the sight of the other woman.

“Good morning,” Paige greets, pouring herself a glass of water as she takes a seat at the island, “guessing you’re making pancakes?”

Tallulah nods with a grin, “Stephie’s orders you know.”

“Ah of course,” Paige laughs, “can’t defy the queen.”

She watches as Tallulah prances around the hardwood floor, grabbing bowls and ingredients, like it’s her kitchen and Paige can’t help the twinge of envy that blooms in her bloodstream. It used to be her. She used to know the Fudd’s kitchen -the whole house- like the back of her hand because really, like Katie always said, it was her home too. But she doesn’t quite know this place, couldn’t tell you where to find the sugar or where the utensils were kept and that stings more than she’d expected. It spirals Paige into the thought that she wouldn’t know any of those things at Azzi’s own house either. And suddenly she’s struck by the reminder that two people who’d once promised to build a world together, had spent the last couple of years, building two separate ones instead.

“Hey,” Tallulah breaks Paige out of her trance, “you good.”

Paige musters up a smile, “yeah- yeah of course. Just- just thinking a lotta things I guess.”

“They’ve all missed you, you know,” Tallulah says softly, “they try not to do it too much around Azzi but it’s always ‘oh Paige would’ve loved this’ or ‘did you catch that bucket Paige made last night’. And whenever the Wings were playing here, it was a no-brainer that they would go.”

“Yeah?” tears prickle against the blonde’s waterline.

“Yeah,” Tallulah confirms, “Tim lowkey lost his mind before you got here last night. Poor man was running all over the place making sure things were good. Katie thought it was pretty hilarious.”

Paige lets out a watery laugh, “that sounds like them-”

“Miss Buecks,” a tiny voice interrupts her before she can say anything and Paige whirls around to see a teary-eyed Stephie looking at her from the last step of the staircase, her bottom lip trembling and panic courses into Paige’s bloodstream

“Stephie,” she practically trips over herself as she rushes to fold the little girl into her arms, “sweetheart what’s wrong?”

Stephie nestles herself into the blonde’s neck, mumbling something incoherent as she holds Paige impossibly tight.

“Stephie,” Paige whispers frantically, concern dripping from her voice, “tell Miss Buecks what’s wrong please. I can’t fix it if you don’t tell me sweetheart.”

“Thought you left,” Stephie confesses finally, keeping her head burrowed against Paige’s shoulder, “you weren’t next to me when I woke up. Got scared.”

“Oh honey,” Paige whispers, as she gently coaxes the little girl’s head out from the crook of her neck so she can cup her face, “I’m right here. I wouldn’t leave without saying goodbye.”

Stephie’s quiet for a second, hiccoughing to herself as she searches for something on Paige’s face before she holds out a pinky, “promise you’ll never leave?”

Paige hesitates, the words sitting heavy on the tip of her tongue. It’s not that she doesn’t want to but Paige has learned first-hand about the fragility of the future, about how true the cliché about time changing in the blink of an eye can be. Because the truth is that it’s not just Azzi who’s scared. Paige is terrified. She’d drowned in this ocean once before and as she tries to swim in it again, she can’t quite find it in herself to shed her life-jacket by making an oath that she can’t guarantee to protect from the dangerous tides of circumstance.

And so she hopes it’s enough for Stephie as she caresses the little girl’s cheeks and says, “I promise I’ll try to stay.”

“Okay,” Stephie says softly and Paige lets out a sigh of relief, “I trust you Miss Buecks.”

Paige smiles, giving the little girl a kiss on the cheek before hoisting her up onto her lap, “did you wake your Mama up?”

“No. She’s still snoring,” Stephie giggles.

Paige laughs, tucking that little tidbit away to tease Azzi with later, “how about you and I go get your Mama her favorite coffee?”

“Oh that’s nice,” Tallulah chirps from where she’s still standing in the kitchen, “go get coffee of course. Why would anyone stay here and help me?”

“Go ask uncle José,” Stephie shoots the younger woman an unamused look, “isn’t that what husbands are for?”

Paige stifles a grin as Tallulah narrows her eyes, waving her whisk menacingly at Stephie, “he’s not my husband yet and you watch it missy or maybe I won’t let you be a flower girl at the wedding.”

“Your wedding would be boring without me,” Stephie scoffs, “besides Aunty Tully, we’ll get you a drink too. Uncle José always says you drink vod-ka, too much of it app-ently, but I don’t know what that is,” she turns to Paige who’s gone bright red in attempt to stop herself from keeling over with laughter, “can we get vod-ka for Aunty Tully?”

Paige tries her best to compose herself, “maybe we’ll just get her a latte and save the vodka for later huh Tulls?”

Tallulah glares at her, flipping her off when Stephie’s gaze shifts towards the door, “just go get the coffee Bueckers.”

***

Not that she didn’t know it before, but Paige quickly realizes just how similar Stephie is to her mother while they’re standing in front of the bakery portion of the coffeeshop and it’s been ten minutes and Stephie still hasn’t decided which sweet treat she’d like.

“Stephie sweetheart,” Paige says, only slightly impatient, “how about the double fudge brownie?”

“That sounds good,” Stephie says excitedly and then her eyes dart towards the cinnamon bun in the corner, “or maybe the ninnamon bun- no wait- Aunty Tully’s gonna put ninnamon in the pancakes so maybe something else. Ooooh maybe a cookie but which one?”

Paige groans to herself as Stephie busies herself looking at the assortment of freshly baked cookies. The old woman over the counter, wearing a name tag saying Ruthie, shares a commiserating smile with her.

“My daughter was like that too at that age. Couldn’t make a decision to save her life,” Ruthie says, a fond look in her eyes while talking about her child.

Paige smiles, “did she ever grow out of it?”

“Well considering we went out to dinner last night and she couldn’t pick between the pepperoni and the sausage, I don’t think they really grow out of it,” Ruthie winks and Paige can’t help but think about Azzi and the way she’d struggled to pick out what to wear to bed last night, staring helplessly between two shirts that practically looked the same.

“Oh I know that look,” Ruthie says, eyes twinkling at the hopeless smile on Paige’s face, as she tilts her head towards Stephie, “you’re thinking about her mother huh?”

“That obvious?” Paige blushes.

Ruthie shrugs, “what is love if it can’t be seen by everyone?”

Love. The word seeps into Paige’s veins, traveling up her bloodstreams until it claws its way into her heart, settling against her ribcage like a rock so that when she breathes, it’s all she can feel. It’s too soon, she knows, and it defeats the purpose of going slow except- it’s not soon at all. Because this isn’t a new feeling, it’s a far too familiar old one that she’d buried as deep within her as possible but is now yearning to get out. It had never gone away, simply lingered in the back of her mind just waiting for this moment. And if she’s honest with herself, Paige doesn’t know if she should fight against it or let herself ride the waves of the before that are desperate to crash against the shore of now.

“Miss Buecks,” Stephie whines, “come help me choose.”

Shooting Ruthie an apologetic look and ignoring the pit in her stomach at the elder woman’s words, Paige walks over and bends down to the little girl’s height, “how about a chocolate chip cookie?”

“Boooooring,” Stephie crinkles her nose.

“Peanut butter?”

“I’m ‘lergic to nuts Miss Buecks,” Stephie says matter-of-factly and Paige pencils that important fact into her mind’s ever growing list of all about Stephie.

“Salted caramel crunch?”

“That sounds good,” Stephie nods, “yeah I’ll get that,” she says as she turns to Ruthie, “could I get a salted car-mel crunch cookie please?” but Paige doesn’t miss the wistful look she sends towards the rest of the cookies.

“Stephie?”

“Yes?”

“Do you want me to get you one of each?”

And she’s absolutely going to get a disapproving glare from Azzi when she shows back up at the Fudd’s with almost a dozen cookies in hand but it’s worth it for the way Stephie immediately latches onto her thigh, a dazzling smile lighting up her whole face.

“You’re best-est-est-est Miss Buecks,” Stephie squeals, staring up at Paige with delight.

“I know,” Paige smirks, “and you better protect me from your Mama when we get back.”

Stephie nods very seriously, “of course Miss Buecks. I’ll protect you with my life.”

Paige ruffles the younger girl's hair before turning to Ruthie who’s grinning at her, “one of every flavor of cookie you have please. Except anything that has nuts.”

“Coming right up,” Ruthie winks at Paige, “your daughter has you wrapped around her little finger huh?”

And maybe Paige should at least attempt to correct the misconception but as Stephie clings to her just a little bit tighter, she can’t find it in herself to say anything but, “yeah, yeah she does.”

***

“Next time you kidnap my daughter, can you at least send me a text?” Azzi says, a grin on her lips as she opens the door to let Paige and Stephie enter back into the Fudd household.

“Good morning Mama,” Stephie says happily, launching herself into her mother’s arms and placing a sloppy kiss against her cheek.

“Morning sunshine,” Azzi laughs, “you seem giddy this morning.”

“Miss Buecks bought me six-teen cookies and she let me eat two of them while we were dri-” Stephie pauses mid ramble, eyes widening as she dramatically slaps a hand over her mouth.

Paige groans as a glare overtakes Azzi’s previously smiling features, “Steph what happened to protecting me?”

“It was an aksy-dent Miss Buecks I’m sorry,” Stephie whimpers, hurriedly cupping her mother’s face, “please don’t be angry at Miss Buecks, Mama. It was my idea.”

Azzi rolls her eyes, “I bet it was. But if you already had two cookies, you must be full? I guess that means no pancakes for you-”

“Miss Buecks forced me to eat the cookies,” Stephie cuts her off and Paige gasps at the betrayal, “not full at all Mama because you can’t get full unless you like what you eat and I didn’t like those cookies at all. So I neeeeeeed pancakes.”

“Traitor,” Paige hisses at the little girl who shrugs sheepishly.

Stephie shoots her an apologetic smile as Azzi hides a grin against her daughter’s hair, “I’m sorry Miss Buecks but I really, really want pancakes. I’ll die if I don’t get pancakes.”

“Okay drama queen,” Azzi chides fondly as she puts Stephie back on the ground, “go get your pancakes,” and then she rounds onto Paige with a patented glare.

“I got you an iced vanilla latte with extra whipped cream,” Paige says before the younger woman can say anything, practically shoving the cold drink into her hand.

“Sixteen cookies? Paige seriously?” Azzi asks, eyebrows raised as she sips at her coffee.

“You didn’t see her Az,” Paige defends, “she looked so sad when she couldn’t decide.”

“Just because she looks sad doesn’t mean you buy her every single cookie to make her happy,” Azzi shakes her head exasperatedly.

“I’d buy her the whole shop if that’s what would make her happy,” Paige says, sincerity weaved throughout every word of the sentence.

“You would, wouldn’t you?” Azzi says softly, a hint of awe in her voice, “you’re kind of a sap Paige Bueckers.”

“Only for you and your daughter Azzi Fudd,” Paige whispers, leaning her head against the younger woman’s temple, “only for the two of you.”

They stand there like that, barely touching beyond their foreheads, yet basking in a certain kind of intimacy that they’ve only ever found with each other. The thing is, Paige’s senses are always heightened, every part of her always alert of what’s going around her. Except when she’s with Azzi. When she’s with Azzi she can let the noise fade to the background and let everything else become a blur and simply just be with Azzi. When she’s with Azzi, she doesn’t have to worry; doesn’t have to have her sword out ready for battle because she knows the younger girl will always be her shield. When she’s with Azzi, Paige is safe.

They’re shaken from their reverie by a cough in the background and Paige reluctantly looks over her shoulder to see Jana regarding them with an amused look.

“Guess I missed a couple of chapters?”

“Shut up,” Paige grinds out, annoyed as Azzi moves out of her space, “what are you doing here so early El-Alfy?”

“I’m here for breakfast because I’m basically an honorary Fudd,” Jana throws her head back before yelling, “RIGHT KATIE?’

“Right Jana,” comes the muffled confirmation from the kitchen as Jana smirks at Paige.

“The better question Bueckers,” the Egyptian prods with a smirk, “is what are you doing here so early?”

“I slept ov-” Paige bites her tongue but it’s too late as Jana’s grin gets wider and next to her, Azzi lets her head drop into her hands.

“You slept over? In which room?” Jana asks innocently.

And of course Stephie chooses exactly that moment to catch wind of the conversation, yelling from the kitchen, “she slept with me and Mama, Aunty J.”

“Thank you for telling me Stephie,” Jana’s eyes twinkle with mirth as she pulls out her phone, “oh I’m about to make some money- hey!”

Azzi snatches the phone out of her younger teammate’s hand, a sweet smile playing on her lips as she starts walking towards the kitchen, “no phones at breakfast thank you!”

“That’s not fair,” Jana whines sauntering after the GSV shooting guard, Paige snickering as she follows the two of them into the kitchen.

“Life’s not fair. Deal with it,” Azzi glares before slipping Jana’s phone into her own pocket, “you can have it back before you leave.”

“Y’all are so mean,” Jana sulks, pouting harder when she reaches out to grab a pancake and immediately has her hand whacked by Tim.

“That one’s for Paige,” the older man warns sternly and Paige sticks her tongue out at her teammate as she grabs the pancake onto her place.

“WHAT?” Jana guffaws, “what’s so special about it?”

Tim shrugs, “absolutely nothing. Just thought it would be funny to see you annoyed.”

“Y’all are the worst adoptive family a player could have you know that?” Jana scolds, pressing her fists to her cheeks like she’s barely older than Stephie, “and to think I was gonna invite the two of you,” she glares at Paige and Azzi, “to a party.”

“Party? Can I come?” Stephie asks excitedly.

“Unfortunately this one’s just for adults kiddo. And it’s not really a party,” Jana explains, “me and Joyce thought it would be nice to do a little team-bonding, especially for you P. Drinks at the bar next weekend?”

“Sounds good,” Paige confirms, “we’ll be there!”

“Oh it’s ‘we’ now is it?” Jana teases, “you guys gonna come together?”

“No,” Azzi says at the same time as a profound “yes” leaves Paige’s mouth. The two of them stare at each other with questioning looks and Paige feels a heavy pit settling in her stomach. Rationally, she knows Azzi’s probably right. No part of going slow includes going to a party with their teammates together, especially not when they’re trying to keep whatever it is they’re doing on the down low. But there’s something about being a secret again, that raises a bitter taste of what killed us then could kill us now in her mouth.

“Awkward,” Jon whistles slowly, only to be met with a simultaneous slap on the back of his head from both his mother and Tallulah.

“I mean- I would have to drop Stephie off here- or umm- at Colleen's so like- logically- practically- uh- it um- it wouldn’t make sense for us to go together,” Azzi says and Paige has to refrain herself from calling it a bullshit explanation.

Instead she gives the younger girl a tight-lipped nod, “right yeah-wouldn’t make sense for us to go together. Obviously,” gritting her teeth and desperate to change the topic, she turns to Jana, “will the whole team be there?”

“A couple of them aren’t currently in the Bay but yeah most of them,” Jana shrugs.

“Oh,” Stephie claps excitedly, “will Aunty Chérie be there? Is she back yet?”

Paige narrows her eyes as both Jana and Azzi exchange looks, “who’s Aunty Chérie?”

“Aunty Chérie’s the best,” Stephie gushes, “she’s really nice and pretty and she calls me ‘mon chérie’,” the little girl does her best attempt at a vaguely french accent and realization starts to claw at Paige’s mind, “so I call her Aunty Chérie. She’s Mama’s best friend on the team.”

Paige tries and fails not to grimace at the sentence; the idea of anyone else being Azzi’s best friend feels like nails being screwed into her skin.

“I’m your Mama’s best friend on the team,” Jana butts in, trying to rescue Azzi from the hole her daughter’s about to dig her into, glancing worriedly between the two former huskies who are doing their best not to look at each other.

“If you say so Aunty J,” Stephie concedes, “but you didn’t answer my question. Is Aunty Chérie back?”

“Yeah she- um Clémence I mean- is coming back for a little bit next week so um-” Jana swallows, clearly not having thought the uncomfortableness of the situation through, “yeah she’ll uh- she’ll probably be there.”

Stephie lets out a whoop of excitement and Paige feels it burn a hole in her stomach. She knows she has no right to be upset at the idea of Stephie being as enamored by another one of Azzi’s teammates but something about it makes her feel queasy inside. Because Clémence Martens isn’t just a teammate. Paige doesn’t know the exact history there; she’d never had the right to ask about it but she’s seen the way Clémence looks at Azzi and she knows she doesn’t like it one bit.

“I thought Clémence was being traded to Atlanta?” Paige keeps her voice low as she leans into Jana. She’s not sure if Stephie knows the news yet and despite the jealousy that’s blooming in every crevice of her body, she doesn’t want to hurt the little girl by accidentally announcing it to her, “why’s she coming?”

Jana sighs, “Joyce invited her cause she was gonna be in town. You know they don’t know about-” the taller woman gestures between Paige and Azzi, “-all of this so. It’s just for one night Paige.”

“Right,” Paige nods, eyes locking with Azzi’s across the table as the younger woman fidgets with the ‘S’ necklace around her neck and shoots Paige a timid attempt at a reassuring smile, “just one night.”

***

August 2028

USA 68 France 64

The entire arena is abuzz for the final 20 seconds of a grueling semi-final match between the storied USA Women’s Basketball team trying to keep their dynasty alive and a vindictive French team eager to avenge their last heartbreaking Olympic loss. France has possession of the ball, shot clock turned off, and Paige has been tasked with guarding Clémence Martens. The woman in front of her, a bench player for the Golden State Valkyries, had never seemed like much of a threat to Paige when they’d met during the W season, but seemed to have become a whole other beast when representing her nation. Clémence is currently leading the French team in assists and is only behind Gabby William in points. Paige keeps herself glued to the woman as she tries to get herself free for the inbound.

The inbounder realizes after a couple of seconds that the French coach’s advice to get Clémence the ball wouldn’t be possible and instead the ball ends up in the hands of Iliana Rupert instead. As gameplay resumes, Paige does exactly as she’s supposed to and she can tell that she’s getting under the French woman’s skin as Clémence curses to herself in her native language. Paige bites back a smirk, secretly pleased at having riled her competitor up. The ball continues to pass around the French players, time ticking away, but the USA’s defense doesn’t allow a good shot until Gabby throws up a miraculous jumper with a second left on the shot clock.

And of course, in a way that’s perhaps too reminiscent of how France had lost in 2024, it goes in.

But it’s not enough and Paige feels blood rush to her ears as the entire arena, decked out in red white and blue, roars with triumph, celebrating the world's greatest team returning back to the finals stage. There’s still one more game but this win is special. They’d been down by 11 points at the half and Paige could almost picture the headlines ready to write themselves about the streaks that could be broken if they lost. But she was no stranger to the pressure that came from playing for a team with a deep history and it had been her and Stewie, partially motivated by their former college head coach frowning at them from the sidelines, that had spear-headed a 23-3 run at the beginning of the 3rd quarter. The USA women’s team hadn’t looked back since and now they were one more step away being golden again.

“You did it,” Olivia screams, running into Paige’s arms as friends and family start to gather on the court, “I’m so proud of you!”

“Thanks Olivia-” Paige is about to say more when the familiar back of someone’s head catches her attention and, like they always seem to when she’s around, all the words die on the tip of her tongue.

Azzi.

Paige could’ve sworn she’d seen the woman in the crowd at some point but she’d chalked it up to a trick of the light manipulating her eyes into seeing what her heart desperately wanted. But as she watches the woman she’d once imagined celebrating all of her victories with, slowly brush away the tears of someone else’s loss, Paige can’t help but wish that it had been a trick of the light after all. She feels suffocated and she can’t tell if it’s from how tight Olivia’s holding her or if it’s because Clémence is burying her head into the space between Azzi’s neck and shoulder, a space that Paige used to mark as hers. And then Azzi looks above Clémence’s shoulder. Dark brown eyes shimmer with unshed tears as they lock onto watery sky blue ones. They’re standing in other people’s arms and they really should look away but how can they when looking into each other’s eyes feels a little bit like finally coming up for air. And Paige realizes that what she’s really being suffocated by is the regret of you’re supposed to be holding me and i’m supposed to be holding you; it was meant to be us.

Azzi lets go of Clémence first, soothingly rubbing the francophone’s back as she makes her way over to congratulate the USA team, starting with Cam and Aliyah. Paige pulls away from Olivia, oblivious to the way annoyance flits across her wife’s features as she catches sight of Azzi. No one but the blonde notices how hesitant Azzi’s steps are, how she carefully pauses a little longer than necessary with everyone else until she finally reaches Paige, managing to give her a small but sincere smile. Olivia wraps a possessive hand around Paige’s bicep and the blonde fights the urge to shake it off when she notices Azzi’s eyes flickering to it for a brief second before coming back up to her face.

“Congratulations Paige,” the formality in Azzi’s voice feels like acid pelting against Paige’s skin, “you were really good tonight.”

“Thank you,” Paige smiles politely, “it was pretty stressful there for a second but I’m glad we got the dub. But it um-” she hesitates, unsure if she should say the next part, “it would’ve been nice if you were out there with me- with us I mean. We could’ve used your shooting.”

“Maybe next time,” Azzi gives her a half-grin.

“Oh I don’t know about that,” Olivia says airily, sharp nails digging a little too roughly into Paige’s skin as her grip tightens further, “there’s plenty of talent up and coming in the next 4 years.”

This is a side of Olivia that Paige is only just beginning to unveil, the side of Olivia that makes snide bitchy comments with a saccharine voice. And Paige really should let it go at this moment, make a mental note to speak with her wife about it later instead of jumping in. But she can see the insecurities brimming in Azzi’s eyes and the words tumble out before Paige can stop them.

“Yeah but no one better than Azzi.”

Olivia stiffens, “right unless she’s injured or pregnant or something. You’re prone to those right?”

“Olivia,” Paige hisses.

“I didn’t mean it offensively,” Olivia feigns innocence and a bitter mix of irritation and anger coils itself around Paige’s ribcage, “just something to think about.”

Azzi’s quiet for a second before a sugary smile, laced with poison, inches itself onto her face, “I’ve only been pregnant once and I haven’t been injured since college which I would expect someone in sports media to know but,” the brunette’s eyes flash dangerously, “I suppose that’s something someone with national media credentials would know, not just a mere local beat writer for Dallas’s fifth most read newspaper,” Azzi turns to Paige, sarcasm morphing into something far more genuine, “congratulations again. I’m really happy for you Paige.”

***

The Reynolds-Bueckers hotel room is a pathetic hot mess that night. Olivia’s livid at Paige and Paige is livid at the stupid #Clézzi tag on tiktok. She’s no stranger to fan edits and she’s definitely no stranger to ship edits and so when the first tiktok appears on her for you page, she knows better than to click on it. She knows better but she does it anyway. And suddenly she finds herself sucked into montage after montage of so-called moments between Clémence and Azzi that fans had noticed and documented. The clips are bad enough themselves but it’s the captions, bold declarations of look at the way she looks at her; no one can love azzi the way clémence loves her, that really piss her off. Clémence might look at Azzi like she’s made of stars but Paige knows that she looks at Azzi like she is the moon, Paige’s moon. As Olivia’s anger bounces off the walls, her rant about disrespect starts to mesh with the audio of the edits that continue to play on the blonde’s phone and Paige wonders if this her God-designed personal hell.

“Are you even fucking listening to me Paige?” Olivia yells, forcing Paige to look up at her wife.

“What do you want me to say Olivia?” Paige asks tiredly.

“What do I want you to say? Well nothing now Paige. She said all of that shit to me and you were silent then so I’m not expecting you to say anything of meaning now either.”

“You’re the one who poked her first-”

“Jesus fucking christ,” Olivia laughs maniacally, “you’re really gonna do this?”

“I’m not doing anything,” Paige protests.

“You’re defending her,” Olivia yells, “you’re my wife and you’re defending her. You’re defending your ex. Can you seriously not see what’s wrong with this picture.”

“Olivia,” Paige sighs, eyes gazing down at her phone where another fuckass Clézzi edit has started to play and she rapidly scrolls past it, “it’s been a long day and I just wanna go to bed. I have practice tomorrow and the gold medal game-”

“Right fucking basketball. Again,” Olivia rolls her eyes.

“What-”

“It’s fine,” Olivia pinches the bridge of her nose, the fight draining from her voice, “you’re right go to bed. I’m not- I’m not feeling great so I’ll sleep out here tonight. Wouldn’t- wouldn’t want you to get sick before the gold medal game.”

“Olivia,” Paige says half-heartedly, taking a timid step towards the woman in front of her.

“It’s fine,” Olivia says, “just- just go to bed Paige.”

Paige knows that the last thing she should do is actually listen to her wife. And she knows that if it was Azzi -she hates herself for even thinking this way- she wouldn’t walk away. If it was Azzi, Paige would’ve pulled her into her arms, held her there and made her talk because they both hated going to bed angry. But well if it was Azzi, this whole situation wouldn’t exist in the first place.

And so she ends up in bed alone, still scrolling through random tiktoks in an effort to not have to deal with all the voices in her head, until suddenly she stumbles on a video captioned and at the end of the day she’ll still always be looking at her. It’s a video taken today. Paige is holding Olivia and Azzi’s holding Clémence but they’re staring at each other. And Paige thinks that whoever wrote the caption, had probably gotten it right. At the end of day, she’ll always look for Azzi. She just doesn’t know if she’ll find her ever again.

***

USA 102 Australia 73

Paige can already taste the feeling of a gold medal around her neck as she takes a seat, the crowd roaring with applause as Coach Lawson empties her bench. There’s only fifteen seconds left in the game and her knees are bouncing in anticipation, ready to celebrate a moment she’s been dreaming of for god knows how long. Paige scans the crowd, not even pretending to look for anyone but Azzi and she can’t help the smile that erupts on her face when she spots the brunette with her fingers crossed, a brilliant grin directed in Paige’s direction as she mouths i’m so proud of you.

Olivia isn’t here, claiming she was too sick to come tonight. Paige thinks she probably should be more upset about that. She thinks the whole thing is probably a ruse that Olivia had concocted to get Paige to beg her to come, to get Paige to show her that she wanted her wife there. The other woman's face had fallen when Paige hadn’t really reacted to the announcement, simply pressed her lips to her forehead and mumbled a feeble hope you feel better before leaving. Paige thinks this is probably the first sign they're falling apart. She thinks she should probably care about that a little bit more too.

But the first thing her eyes had landed on once she’d entered the court, was Azzi’s face in the lower bowl and everything else had ceased to exist. Her first petty thought had been a ha! fuck you to the damned Clézzi shippers who claimed Azzi wouldn’t show up today, too busy consoling Clémence. They didn't know Azzi was all-american. Her second thought, the one that felt like a warm blanket being wrapped around her soul, was that of course Azzi’s here. Because Azzi had been there every time Paige achieved a milestone and even if they were barely a shadow of what they used to be, it's only right that Azzi is still here.

Australia doesn’t even bother taking a shot, bowing out gracefully and the buzzer rings.

The entire arena bursts into confetti and music as the USA Women’s Basketball Team clinches yet another Olympic Gold Medal.

Paige doesn’t know who she’s hugging, lost in a sea of red uniforms as she feels herself floating through her teammates. They end up in a huddle, screaming and she can barely make out who’s saying what but it doesn’t matter. The chaos has never felt so fucking cathartic.

As everyone else disperses to find their families, Paige’s eyes land where they always seem to: on Azzi. And maybe she shouldn’t do it, maybe she should think again but fuck it Paige Bueckers is an olympic gold medalist and she’s going to share this moment with the first person she’d ever won a medal for this country with. Her legs move of their own accord, walking and then running and she breathes out a sigh of relief when she realizes that Azzi’s moving towards her too.

“You did it. Oh my god Paige you did it,” Azzi squeals as they crash into each other in the middle of the court, her arms instinctively going around Paige’s neck as the blonds wraps her hands around Azzi’s waist, “I’m so fucking proud of you. I knew you could do it Paige.”

“I’m so glad you’re here,” Paige breathes out, “I just- it wouldn’t be the same winning without you.”

Azzi’s eyes soften, “I came for you. I don’t know if I’m allowed to say that but- I’m here for you.”

“Good don't want you to be here for anybody else,” Paige tightens her hold on the younger woman’s waist, “we’re gonna do it together next time okay. You and me, we’re gonna be golden together.”

And they both know that they’re saying words they shouldn’t say. That when they break apart from this moment, they’ll have to walk away. But for now, being in each other’s arms is the only thing that feels right, that feels golden.

#pazzi #paige bueckers #azzi fudd #wcbb

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licensedproldier · 6 months ago

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highlights from the brennan hank interview (aka taking notes on things that i liked or didn't know)

HE STARTED ATTENDING COLLEGE WHEN HE WAS 14?????

immediate jump off topic from hank to ask him about d20 (this happened while fhjy was airing)

"and the greatest project of all, my wonderful family with my wife isabella roland"

bonding over their children

brennan and hank's son both corrected their father's bedtime stories 💀

many elaine lee shoutouts

"his dad met my mom and fell in love" "you did that" "we did that, parent-trapped them"

was pulled out of school in 4th grade for homeschooling because the bullying was so bad....

started a company when they (he and his brother) were fifteen?? called Bootleg Adventures

hank's little awed hiss of "what" to the above piece of information

GOT PART OWNERSHIP OF THE WAYFINDER COMPANY AT 15

"knowledge is something that, when you share it, there's just more. there's no scarcity"

hank staring off into space slightly looking like brennan just blew his mind (we're 11 minutes in)

"we were 14 year old philosophy majors, if you can imagine anything more normal than that"

brennan unable to resist doing fun voices for the people he talks about

he wouldve loved to work at wayfinder full time and said back then hey maybe ill become a famous internet comedian or something and that's how i can help camp. now he's got texts from the staff saying how a bunch of dimension 20 fans have joined and its been a huge boon for them that way 🥺

"it's funny when a really bad plan works. dont make that plan."

"every new community-- is this too sad? no its true" THOSE THINGS ARE NOT MUTUALLY EXCLUSIVE

anyway "for every new community i start with the presupposition that someone is going to pick me up and put me in the trash can" 😭

hank sniping him through the duplex door with "[when you do that] you kind of imagine yourself to be the value you're delivering rather than yourself, or that your value is in what you deliver and not who you are" and brennan going 😐 "that's a great point man"

both of them turning to do pained smiles at the camera 😭

"i think the value is in who you are" "that's really sweet i appreciate that" "but i also love that you deliver"

brennan quoting mary oliver

im starting to feel a little called out guys

robert mckee "stories are not about their premises they're about their conclusions"

brennan also staring off into space slightly thinking about what hank said

the REAL college advice brennan is giving is reportedly "put an egg in your ramen" because thats how you stop your eyes from going "matte finish"

shoutout to vanessa's dumplings for keeping this man alive

"i am ozymandias nerd of nerds, gaze upon my banner and despair"

the moment he felt like something changed was walking into C2E2 and seeing that the biggest hanging banner in the convention hall was of fantasy high. or, as brennan put it, "my dumb face"

"my friends moved in with their partners, the apartment i had with them scattered to the wind, the woman i was dating dumped me after three weeks, and i won a bunch of money on Who Wants to Be a Millionare" "wh- what???"

he taught emily, murph, siobhan, and zac how to play dnd 🥺 and was running a home game for lou at the same time

got hired at um, actually because his name was getting around for being a big dork

zac stepped down from troopers and sam liked brennan's character from a previous casting call (tim curry eating pizza) so he brought him in

its very charming the detail with which brennan remembers these important moments in his life

became a full time cast member in the same week he started dating izzy! "hard to beat week gang!"

"they told us they were launching dropout and everyone had to make a show, which, if you're been trying to make a show your whole life, that's like saying 'bad news guys, there's 24 birthday cakes in the break room and everyone has to eat a whole birthday cake'."

brennan was making a document for a market pitch on an actual-play show when he was called into office and THEY pitched HIM the idea of an actual-play show

"i guess i have tumbled through life to end up here ready to do this"

truly like. one of the guys of all time.

"some of the things that didn't make sense about you make more sense now" hank talking indirectly about how amazing he found all the moving parts of mentopolis and now getting to hear about how long and how many time he's done storytelling it makes sense

"yeah its the one skill"

"i wanted to tell stories before i was anything else"

🎉anti-capitalist rant🎉

"people used to say 'is ucb a cult' and i'd say 'in a cult, somebody is making money'"

HIGH FIVE!!!

#brennan lee mulligan #hank green #dropout #dimension 20 #d20 #txt #dropout.tv #i had fun!!!!! yall should watch this

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queenpiranhadon · 1 month ago

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╰┈➤ 𝐒𝐘𝐍𝐎𝐏𝐒𝐈𝐒 ʚɞ .ᐟ: Before going to bed, your twin daughters Nanako and Mimiko ask your husband for a bedtime story - the story of the day you two first met.

ʚɞ 𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒: No curses AU (?), light cursing (they're crossed out because it's a bedtime story), whether Mimi and Nana are adopted isn't really specified so it's up to you, f!reader, you and Suguru are married, fluffy fluff, Suguru used to play basketball

ʚɞ 𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒: Suguru Geto x Reader

𝐄𝐕𝐄𝐍𝐓 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓: ʚɞ

"Okay girls, time for bed."

Your twin daughters, Mimiko and Nanako eagerly dash to their beds, getting under the covers and staring at your husband in anticipation.

"...What?" Suguru asks, raising an eyebrow. He wasn't a stranger to his daughters' antics, and the eager gleam in their eyes was unmistakable.

"Can you tell us a bedtime story Daddy?" Mimiko asks, flashing her infamous puppy dog eyes in his direction.

"Yeah! About the time you and Mama met. Pleaaseee?" Nanako pleads, and Suguru groans.

Out of the two of you, though he hated to admit it, Suguru was definitely the weaker link when it came to your daughters.

He sighs. ""Fine, but only if you promise that you'll go straight to sleep after that."

The girls squeal excitedly and nods, situating themselves underneath their covers.

Suguru sits on the chair between the two beds, and turns on the little night light on the night stand.

"Once upon a time, a long time ago, there was a boy who was on the the school basketball team."

Suguru remembers the day like it was yesterday. It was sometime in the fall during his senior year of high school, at the peak of Jujutsu High's basketball season.

He and his best friend Satoru were playing together after school had ended, just shooting hoops in the gymnasium until things got a little too... competitive.

"Pfft you're selling so hard right now Suguru!"

"Shut the fuck up Satoru - You couldn't pass a ball if your life depended on it!"

"How's this for pass, huh?" the white haired male challenges, but in an underestimation of his own strength, Satoru manages to throw the ball so impossibly high it sails through the air and into a window, shattering the glass and tumbling straight outside.

"Shiiiiiitttt... Well that's not great." Satoru says, and Suguru send him a withering glare.

"I'll get the damn ball- you figure out how to fix the fucking window before Coach Yaga gets here."

Satoru whines, groaning as he limply stands in the center of the court. "Wha- Suguru don't go! How am I supposed to fix a window?!"

Suguru just rolls his eyes, pushing open the double doors."Aren't you rich? Just figure it out."

"Bu-"

Running through the school doors, Suguru catches a flash of orange in his peripherals, eyes widen in horror as the basketball rolls down the street into oncoming traffic.

Shit! Shoot!

Suguru groans, racing down the sidewalk, hastily apologizing as he dodges random people walking across the same pavement.

Suddenly, his eyes lock onto the basketball halfway through the street, somehow still rolling - the ravenette wincing as it narrowly misses being flattened by a car.

Suguru grumbles. Fixing a window sounds a lot easier than this shit right now.

Reaching the end of the sidewalk, his eyes dart to orange ball again, incredulously watching it roll across the entire traffic ridden road with ease and making its way down to the park, tumbling even faster down grassy mounds.

How the fuck heck was it still rolling?!

Nanako gapes at her dad. "It was still rolling?"

Suguru nods, chuckling wryly. "It wasn't even too windy that day, I don't know how it managed to go that far."

Mimiko mirrors her sister's stupefied expression. "Did Uncle Satoru throw it that hard?"

He chuckles, amused by how invested they were in the story."I don't honestly don't know girls - maybe you should ask him."

Nanako nods decisively. "Okay Daddy, you can continue your story!"

Suguru rolls his eyes but smiles. "Anyways..."

Watching the basketball, he lets out a sigh of relief as it rolls to a stop in the middle of the park. The LED sign on the opposite side on the road indicating he can cross, and he dashes across the white lines marked on the road, racing down the grassy hills only for some random kid to come up and kick the ball further away from him.

"You've got to be fucking kidding me." Suguru grumbles under his breath, legs starting to burn a little as he chases after the ball.

Finally stopping at the base of the hill, he panics.

Where did the ball go?!

It was like it disappeared out of thin air, and he groans, a feeling of hopelessness and dread washing over him. $60 dollars down the damn drain - oh god his dad was going to fucking kill him.

"What basketball costs 60 dollars?!" Mimiko asks.

Suguru shrugs. "It was a good basketball."

"And you threw the expensive basketball out the window?!" Nanako asks incredulously.

"Once again, that wasn't me, that was Uncle Satoru."

"If I had an expensive basketball, I wouldn't let it leave the house." Mimiko says, and Suguru sighs.

Sometimes, his girls' cleverness could be a little tiring to deal with.

"Do you want me to get to the good part or not?"

"Yes please!"

"Moving on..."

Suddenly, Suguru feels a tap on his shoulder.

"Um...sorry, is this yours?"

Nanako gasps. "Is that-?"

"Nana be quiet!" Mimiko chides.

Suguru turns around, eyes widening as he comes face to face with one of the prettiest girls he's ever seen.

You're a junior in high school around this time, attending a different school, but you happened to be in the park at the time, studying for an upcoming test, when a basketball rolled up and bumped into your feet. You were confused, but it wasn't hard to notice Suguru visibly panicking in broad daylight - and so you put the pieces together.

"I was not panicking!" your husband protests. "And this is my story, not yours."

You snort, entering your daughters' room. "Yes you were. You had this terrified look on your face, like the world was ending or something. Plus, if you're going to tell a story, tell it accurately at least."

Nanako and Mimiko grin up at you. "Hi mama!"

You smile warmly, kissing their foreheads lovingly, before raising an eyebrow at your husband, sitting on the edge of Mimiko's bed. "Weren't you telling a story?"

Suguru grumbles. "I was, until someone interrupted."

You wave your hand dismissively. "Don't let me stop you then."

Your husband rolls his eyes, continuing on.

"Here, I think this belongs to you." You say, handing the ball over to you.

Suguru stares at you, stunned."T-Thanks."

You give him a small but sweet smile. "I'll see you around?"

He nods, still in a trance, feeling like he's 12 years old again with a crush on some pretty girl he's met at the park.

"Yeah...I'll see you around."

Nanako giggles. "Oooooo Daddy's in looooveeeee~"

Mimko stares at him skeptically. "Are you sure that story was real?"

Suguru winks at her, raising his eyebrow. "Well I guess you have to decide."

"Do you believe in fairytales?"

A/N: Sorry if the shift between the story and the present was confusing 😭

𝚝𝚊𝚐𝚕𝚒𝚜𝚝: @tootiecakes234 @gina239 @its-liberty-frazblair @lilyadora @callmeanythingyouwant00

@milkm4nz @lightsgore @skaiblu-e @that-one-lightskin @hahajsphaha

@beaniesayshi @abinformyobsessions @sharycatx3 @meddykip @riririr11

@ladygojooo @abyzissupersleepy @lilaccmilk @anime2006

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rooshoom · 1 year ago

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I did it. I have Spots verbal quirks in the previous post and now you get to have Spots physical quirks and movements with some quotes from when I noticed he does them.

Poses

Terrible casual ‘guy’ poses

The arm lean, the hand on the hip, the tilted head. He is totally faking the confidence.

“I love how many of your there are!”

“It’s the place with the big collider.”

Shoulders / Arms

When he first walks into the store to rob the ATM, he has super tense shoulders. We see a lot of his stress and tension carried more in his upper body than lower body.

Lots of shrugging

Shrinks in on himself by squeezing his arms to his sides

During the flashback when he brought the spider from 42 to 1610 you can really see how much he tries to squeeze in on himself.

Slings his arms, when he throws his portals his arms fly forward very fluidly. Example when he throws the portal at Pav, Gwen and Hobie, he throws it hard enough that his upper body drops once it’s out of his hand.

Hand movements

Fingers first, if you watch the way he reaches into the ATM he doesn’t just casually reach in, he grabs things with his fingers instead of his whole hand or with his palm

Floppy hand / t-rex arm

Conveys tons of emotions through his hands, like when he is shocked he flexes his fingers open. Maybe picked up on this since he can no longer express emotion through his face.

Balled fists but likely out of nerves. Once again seen in the flashback of the spider.

Points with all of his fingers instead of just one. “You made me into this!”

Standing / walking

It seems like he only stands at full height when he’s trying to convince himself to be confident. “I am the Spot.”

Even when he’s actually confident he doesn’t stand at full height. Right before he disappears inside Pav’s collider, which you can tell by his verbal cues that he’s very confident with what he's about to do, he’s still leaned over.

Knees together, once against this man just wants to appear small.

Clumsy. “I need more spots!” Running into walls, dropping things, and twisting around corners.

Would rather stand, crouch, or stand on his knees than sit down. Look at Gwen watch him ramble to himself while building, he doesn’t sit once.

Crouches with his neck more than his back. “You’ll have a villain worth fighting for.”

Head / Face

Head tilts

Leans forward to see with face first, so lucky he has a hole right there to deflect fists because if he didn’t he would be punched in the face so fast.

When he says “wow four on there.” You can see him lean in with his face. Totally why that old lady beat him with a purse.

Literal nose tilted up attitude later in the movie. When he’s in Pav’s universe dropping scientists into portals, he has face tilted up and nodding along with how many holes he creates.

Other

I see him stim with his legs a lot, such as hopping foot to foot. “This is real.”

Just generally very fluid, watch how he falls into the portal when he yells, “I am your nemesis!” He flops into it instead of bracing for impact. He has no sense of self preservation.

He. Cannot. Fight. Watch all of his scenes and look at how loose he is. A slinky of a man.

Look at how he flails. This man would flinch if you threw a pillow at him.

Y’all, I’m absolutely encouraging you to write Spot X Reader with my lists. I’m trying to make this easy as possible, don’t think babygirl just write a bedtime story for the masses we can all peacefully drift off to. Let me spoil you with the time I spent doing this so you don’t have to.

#jonathan ohnn #the spot #across the spiderverse #the spot x reader #jonathon ohnn #what else should I write about

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ajokeformur-ray · 1 year ago

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The breeze seems to whisper 'I love you' // Astarion x gn!reader / Tav

This is my first Astarion fic so I really hope I bring him justice; he deserves that and everything else which is good in life. It took me three days in total to fall head over heels for him, and this piece is dedicated to @ace-tarion for being such a sweetheart in this, as in everything. I love you, dude!❤️

I haven't played BG3, I know maybe 80% of the plot (tadpoles in brain = bad = travel to Baldur's Gate), I've watched a ton of Astarion clips, so apologies for any inaccuracies or inconsistencies. I'm just here for Astarion (though I'd love to play BG3, I don't have any technology capable of running it💔).

Content: You/Tav x Astarion (established relationship), canonical past for Astarion is hinted at and laced within narrative, cuddles, animals referred to as 'snacks' within mentions of Astarion (only a mention; no actual description of animal-feeding/mentions of anything pertaining to animals being fed on).

Summary: Night-time falls, your heart sinks into your stomach as surely as your body sinks into your bedroll, and you want cuddles from Astarion.

Word count: 1, 624.

I am accepting requests for Astarion ❤️ no smut and no pregnancy/birth/kids!!

You lay on the cold, hard ground. The earth is unforgiving, soaking up the day's sweat without offering any kind of reprieve. Stones and hard clumps of dirt dig into your back through the bedroll, the wind is slightly too cold and it penetrates your thin blanket, haphazardly thrown over you in an attempt to ward off the elements.

Everyone has a tent, except you, and you make it a point to lay as close to the fire as you can on the nights Astarion is out hunting; it wouldn't do to help yourself to his tent. He keeps his tent away from the others, though still adhering to the semi-circle layout chosen by the others around the campfire. He would not mind you letting yourself in to his tent, he would likely welcome returning to you there, and yet you cannot justify it even to yourself.

After two hundred years of shit, pure shit, he deserves every ounce of privacy and the security of knowing his tent is his own.

You sit up just enough to shuffle yourself closer to the fire, curling inwards as a shiver wracks your body. It isn't cold, necessarily, but your temperature is not conducive to a restful sleep. You lay on your back, gazing up at the stars which punctuate the sky, breaking up the inky black and blues with pinpricks of white, yellow, and some dull spots of grey from the stars which died many eons ago and are now fading from the sky.

You promise yourself you'll try to remember their placement in the sky.

Despite the best of intentions, you know that you won't.

Your vision goes blurry at the edges as you continue staring up at the night sky, looking for any constellations you recognise by way of finding yourself a bedtime story to recount as you try to fall asleep. The leaves on the trees sway gently in the breeze, and your mind wanders, as it so often does, to Astarion. Your sweet vampire, who simultaneously breaks your heart and put it back together in the same moment every time you uncover more of who he is, more of his past.

Oh, but you love him.

Of its own accord does your body take a long, deep breath in, your heart sinking into your stomach as surely as your body melts into the bedroll. All of your thoughts of Astarion and all of your feelings for him are safe inside yourself, and they serve you now in warming you from the inside out.

Your eyes slide closed, and if you press your forehead closer into your blanket, you can almost tell yourself that you can feel Astarion lying down beside you, you can smell bergamot and feel his silver hair tickle your cheeks, you can feel his fingers intertwined with yours, your legs tangled together, his crimson eyes upon your face so intently fixed like he's scared to blink in case you disappear before his eyes, leaving him clutching only the cold night air, his equally cold body pressed against every line of yours...

You smile to yourself and burrow deeper into your blanket, feeling sleepier, warmer and closer to your rest by the second. Thoughts of Astarion flood your mind and you curl up tighter, as if to keep all these thoughts right where they are. You know if you open your eyes that you'll be alone; you know not where Astarion is this night, but you know he is trying to sate his hunger with the snacks which live in the forest.

So you keep your eyes shut.

As you allow yourself to slip further into your threshold consciousness, you wonder what Astarion would say to you if he returned at this very moment...

"Hello, sweet. Gods, you are beautiful."

You smile again and squeeze your blanket ever tighter to you. Yes, he would probably say something like -

Wait.

Was that - ?

With great caution do you open your eyes, ready to slam them shut again once you see that Astarion isn't there, that he didn't just speak to you. But instead of the cold hard truth slamming into you, flowers bloom in your heart because Astarion is here, looming over you, his silver curls seeming to be glowing in the soft moonlight. His crimson eyes seem black, his charming smirk soft at the edges as he gazes down at you with obvious fondness, vulnerable such as it is.

Of all the stars above me, this one's the prettiest, you think to yourself, and you open your eyes wider to better enjoy the view.

Astarion's smirk melts until it becomes a smile as he kneels down beside you, one of his arms reaching out to brush a leaf away from your face. His fingers ghost across your skin, and you shiver. "Thank you, darling. I know I'm beautiful. Not enough people mention it." His joke fades into vulnerability, as it so often does around you.

But it is no matter. You always meet him where he is, and right now it is no exception.

You smile at Astarion, all of the love for him shining in your eyes until they look like molten galaxies, and he swears he feels his heart, which stopped working centuries ago, skip a beat. You are unguarded where you lay in your threshold consciousness, not embarrassed to have spoke aloud your thoughts, and Astarion wonders if the old saying, that love makes fools of people, is true. You lay at the foot of a vampire, at the foot of a predator, smiling at him, physically and emotionally vulnerable, completely unguarded. Most others at the camp are asleep, Astarion can hear, and yet here you are...

Wait. Why are you awake?

"Darling," Astarion's voice is a hush and you strain your ears to be able to hear him. He bends closer to you to accommodate, anticipating your needs before you fully register them yourself, "Why aren't you sleeping? No harm shall befall you when I'm here." Long ago, he had sought your protection, but now he wanted you both to be safe. If this is how the mighty fall, then Astarion must admit that he is happy he lost his balance. He quite likes the view from down here.

You shake your head and shuffle closer still, unable to get close enough to your most beloved vampire. "Can't sleep without you." I just want to be held.

Oh, help him, but this is devastating in its simplicity. His undead heart bleeds and words have brought Astarion to the point where they run dry. Instead, he stands, and reaches a hand out to you. The message is clear - he wants you to accompany him to his tent, he wants to carve a piece of heaven out with you amongst all the chaos unleashed, he wants to hold and to be held.

Astarion just wants you, and who are you to deny him?

One of your hands slips into his while the other pulls the blanket away from you and Astarion's smile widens as he effortlessly pulls you up to stand beside him. You bend to scoop up your bedroll, and follow Astarion into your tent. The door flap flutters in the wind as Astarion releases it, and it settles in place like a butterfly finding a flower.

You find yourselves easily, your bedroll dumped next to Astarion's, pushed up close until his bedroll becomes a double. It's a well established routine for the two of you, with you spending more nights here than you don't. You never enter his tent if he isn't here, and you certainly never come in without his permission. One day, Astarion will find the words to convey his appreciation for your concern, but until then, he will remind you at every chance he finds that you are always welcome. He finds it greatly ironic that you seek permission to enter space and he, a vampire, does not. He knows he is welcome, wanted, cherished, loved.

It took some work for the both of you to get here, but his months with you are the counterweight to the hell he escaped from.

He'll never be able to thank you enough, he has no idea what he is doing, but perhaps this is a start.

Somehow, through the fuzziness of denied sleep, you end up back in bed, your blanket around you and Astarion's still chest under your head. He lays beneath you like he is patiently waiting for you to make yourself comfortable, and you take the opportunity to wind both of your arms around his waist and squeeze, pulling yourself up just enough to be able to bury your face in his neck. One of your legs slips between his, anchoring the two of you together.

Slowly, like he's afraid to move too quickly in case you disappear within his grasp and leave Astarion holding nothing but the cold empty night air, his hands settle upon your back and a sigh which seems to come from deep within him spells peace for the both of you. "This is nice," Astarion's voice rumbles through your ear and you press yourself ever closer to him, unable to get close enough. Your arms constrict around him again and you feel yourself smile as all those sleepy dreams you were having earlier are now here, beneath you, wrapped around you. As you hold on tighter, so too does Astarion, until the two of you are so completely intertwined that the elements cannot reach you. He has no body temperature and yet you are the comfiest and the warmest you have ever been.

Safe.

This time, Astarion doesn't tell you that you accidentally spoke your thoughts aloud.

#astarion x reader #astarion #baldurs gate 3 astarion #baldurs gate 3 x reader #astarion x tav #astarion x you #astarion comfort #astarion fluff #bg3 x reader #bg3

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sinsofsummers · 1 year ago

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insatiable

1.3k | marc spector x f!reader

summary: you can never get enough of marc. and marc? he's not complaining. warnings: literally nothing but smut (duh), oral (m receiving), fingering, marc being a little shit, whimpering, begging, masturbation (f), throat-fucking, etc.

Giving Marc head during the worst possible times of his day is your version of fun.

There's nothing quite like the look of unbridled desire that blooms in his eyes every time he sees you sink to your knees in front of him, a pleading smile on your lips..

"Please, baby, I'm busy," he'll always say, as if to protest. But you know he just says it for show; he'll never stop thanking his lucky stars for how desperately insatiable you can be.

Because when your throat feels empty, it feels hollow, and the only thing that can make you return to yourself is his thick, veiny cock stuffed down your throat until your nose brushes the coarse patch of hair at the base.

If he's about to fall asleep? No better bedtime story than the sound of you gagging on the swollen head of his cock touching the back of your throat, your hands splayed on his thighs for balance.

He's on the phone? You'll kneel before him like a zealot bends to pray, and you'll take him into your mouth without a word, hardly even a look into his eyes, while he stifles his moans.

He comes home from another hard day as Moon Knight? You're there for him, ready to pull him down to the bed and let him lose his worries with your mouth around him.

And now? He's just gotten out of the shower, towel draped sinfully low on his hips, his chest a canvas of scars and muscles and droplets of water that still run down the rivets of his stomach.

You've been trying to distract yourself with...well, anything, but that's been awfully hard considering your favorite man is in much need of a relaxing shower. You'd almost gone in with him, but had refrained when you saw the hard look in his eye.

You could be his treat after the shower. Besides, you'd convinced yourself, he needed those quiet moments to come back to himself from a long day.

Of course, the temptation had been so strong that you'd had to resort to sinking your hand into your shorts to keep yourself from interrupting his alone time.

"Look at you," he muses when he steps out of the bathroom, leaning down to drop a kiss on your head. "Keeping yourself busy, I see?"

Your eyes open at the sound of his voice, and you can feel the droplets of water from his hair land on your arm. It cools your hot skin, and your fingers stop circling your clit. "Couldn't help myself," you shrug with a smirk, "what else am I s'posed to do when I know you're just a few feet away, looking as good as you do?"

His smirk remains on his face, but you swear you can see it grow wider when he flits his eyes down to where your hand has disappeared under the soft material of your lounge shorts. "You want something, sweetheart?" he teases, and your face burns.

"Only you," you reply, your voice thick. Pulling your hand from your shorts, you hold out your shining fingers to his mouth, tapping them against his bottom lip before placing them over your tongue, gently sucking your sweet juices from your own fingertips.

"C'mere," you coo. "Wanna taste you, Marc."

It doesn't take much more than that to get him to drop his towel, laying back on the bed with his feet dangling off the edge, just enough to reach the floor. His cock is already half-mast, a delicious challenge for you to conquer. Before you put your mouth over his tip, he reaches out to tug at your waistband. "Lemme see that pretty pussy, baby," he says, his voice always a quiet command. "I wanna hear you play with yourself while you suck my cock."

You bite your lip with a grin and obey. You usually allow him these little requests; it makes him feel like he's in control for the few minutes before you've got him writhing and whimpering beneath you.

With one hand on your clit, rubbing rhythmic circles on your bundle of nerves, breathy moans dropping from your lips, you lift your eyes to his and open your mouth, taking him softly.

At first. You like to watch his lips quiver as he tries to hold in the desperate moans. No matter how many times you find yourself in this position, Marc's moans remain loud and plentiful, turning into an unforgettable chorus of whines when you inevitably take him down to the base of his cock.

"Fuck," he curses under his breath, throwing his arm over his face. "You know just how to make me feel better, honey. That's it, fuck—"

His voice catches when you moan around him, the vibrations stiffening his cock in an instant. Your throat is deliciously full, and you hollow your cheeks for a moment, sucking hard and fast to watch him crumble to pieces.

Now you've got him where you want him.

"Do I make you feel good, Marc?" you ask sweetly when you lift your mouth from him for a moment's reprieve.

It's all he can do to nod, a whine squeezing its way from his throat. "Always so good, doll," he heaves, his hips straining up from the bed. "I wanna—please—"

You dip your tongue down and swirl it gently around his tip, lapping up the precum with an appreciative moan. "Ask nicely, baby," you tease him, your hand curling around his length and delivering a courteous, languid stroke.

His hips stutter. "More, please," he breathes. "Wanna fuck your throat. Please."

For a moment, you pause to look at him. He looks absolutely wrecked. You've never gotten him this desperate so quickly. "And you say I'm insatiable," you murmur. "Come on, Marc. Fuck my throat. Play with me how you want."

His hands come down to the back of your head with almost no warning but a, "thank fuck," and then your eyes are squeezing shut as he plants his feet to the ground, bucking his hips faster and harder into your mouth, watching your hair fall into your eyes.

"That's it, baby," he mutters, and you relish in the deep gravelly tone that his voice takes. "Want me to come down this pretty throat?"

You can't even reply; his hips don't stop until his groans grow louder, and longer, and his hands grip your hair in tight fists, nearly pulling it out from the roots. "Such a good girl, taking my cock so well," he hums. "Gonna come, baby, gonna—"

He loses all coherence when he comes, and it's music to your ears as his hips stutter once more before falling back to the bed, his hands still pulling you to the base of his cock as he pulses, painting the walls of your throat with his release.

When he loosens his grip, you lift your head and swallow, swiping a finger under your lip to catch any drops that might have fallen. Nothing but a smug chuckle passes your lips.

"What?" he asks, his chest heaving and lined in a sheen of sweat.

Your hand returns to your core, having removed it when he was fucking your throat. "Nothing," you say, feigning innocence. "It's just..."

His lips curl up. "Lemme take care of you, baby," he says with a hand reaching for you. Despite his fatigue, his arms are strong as he pulls you up on the bed. "Wanna return the favor," he murmurs, and his hands find your hips, pulling you to straddle his chest.

"Yeah?" you tease, and you can't help but wonder how fucked out the both of you look. No doubt your hair is knotted beyond belief, and with the way he's tugging you closer to his face, making your sopping core hover over his mouth, you're sure it'll be quite a bit longer before the two of you can clean up.

He nods feverishly with a devil's smirk and looks down at your clit, just inches from his nose. "How else would I say thank you?"

#marc spector smut #moon boys #moon knight smut #moon knight #steven grant #steven grant smut #oscar isaac #marc spector x reader #marc spector x you #steven grant x reader #steven grant x you #jake lockley x reader #jake lockley smut #jake lockley x you #moon knight x you #moon knight x reader

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seonghrtz · 11 months ago

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𖤐ㅤ 𝖿𝖺𝗂𝗋𝗒 𝗍𝖺𝗅𝖾 𝗄𝗂𝗌𝗌. ๑ 𝗿𝗼𝗿𝗼𝗻𝗼𝗮 𝘇𝗼𝗿𝗼 !

ゾロ + femreader ! after being struck by the power of an akuma no mi, you are doomed to sleep for eternity. ／ fluff & mutual pining.

Being part of the Straw Hat Crew meant not only being a pirate, an outlaw, hunted by the Marines and the World Government, but also being in constant danger in exchange for satisfying Captain Monkey D Luffy's insatiable thirst for adventure.

Not that you didn't enjoy the adventures, you had the chance to meet incredible islands and people ⸻ you and the crew even ended up on an island in the sky! The Grand Line was full of mysteries, and it didn't hurt to unravel them as you continued to make your dreams come true. But some situations could have been avoided if Luffy hadn't been so impulsive in his desire to venture into unknown lands.

An example of this would be the current situation in which the Straw Hat crew find themselves...

You felt your legs betray you as you ran in a random direction through the forbidden forest that Luffy had decided to explore. Even the scary stories of the inhabitants of the small village near the forest, about a monster that inhabited the forest and all those who tried to explore this area never came back, weren't enough to dispel Luffy's desire to discover the true mystery of this place. Kids' bedtime stories wouldn't scare Luffy ⸻ but with you, Usopp, Chopper, and even Nami, it worked a little differently; it was enough to make you think twice before getting into trouble. By the way, if there were stories, it was because something had happened before.

But by some quirk of fate, the crew was trapped in the forest, fleeing from a monster ⸻ the monster from the stories that had turned out to be real. As you ran, looking for the right way out of the forest, you noticed the absence of your companions. You were alone, at night, in that vast, frightening forest.

With your legs tired and sore, you began to slow down until you came to a panting halt with your hands on your knees. You turned around, squinting your eyes to find a familiar figure in the darkness, but nothing. 'I really am alone...' you thought to yourself. As you turned forward again, you noticed a hooded figure standing in the middle of the path.

"I see you lost your crewmembers." A dark voice rose above the nocturnal sounds of the forest.

"Who are you?" you asked, trying to control your breathing.

"I have several names, but I am usually called 'The Witch of the Woods'," the person laughed.

"You're the witch from the stories!" You tried not to sound frightened when you met the figure who frightened the villagers.

"I see they're still talking about me, and there are still those who think they're brave enough to invade my forest, even after being warned of what I'm capable of."

"Look, to tell you the truth, I didn't want to be here." You scratched your head, unashamed of the sincerity in your tone, "This was all my idiot Captain's idea!"

"And to tell you the truth, I don't care whose idea it was for you to invade my property and put an end to the peace that reigned here. Either way, you're all going to pay for your captain's stupid initiative!"

Before you could say anything or prepare to flee, as your fatigue would not allow you to fight for long, you felt your body hit by something and gradually a feeling of drowsiness came over you and the only thing you could see before you closed your eyes was the sinister smile of the Forest Witch shining through the darkness.

Zoro had no idea where he was. Surely he was lost (again) in the midst of so many identical trees. But his main goal was to clear all obstacles, find the crew and get back to the ship. He couldn't remember exactly what had happened to make him run in that direction. The only thing he could remember was that Luffy had persuaded the crew (despite several protests from Nami, Usopp, Chopper and you) to explore the forest, which was technically forbidden, and that he heard a loud noise and Usopp and Nami's desperate cries and ordered everyone to run back to the ship.

"Oi! Who's there?" Zoro asked after hearing the sound of voices. He quickly put his hand on the hilt of his katana and approached the figure in front of him who was standing and looking at something on the ground ⸻ what Zoro soon realized was a body. The boy squinted, trying to see in the dark, when he noticed that the person on the ground was wearing a pink dress that he would recognize anywhere, even without meaning to. "What did you do to her?"

"Well, I didn't do anything." The hooded figure laughed, "She just got what she deserved, just like all those who invaded my forest, she's now condemned to sleep for eternity."

"Stop talking shit." Zoro grunted before he attacked the unknown person and threw them away. They hit something Zoro didn't even bother to look at. He bent down next to you on the ground and put his ear to your nose, listening to your faint breathing. "Hey! Hey! Come on, wake up! Hey, we have to get out of here!" He shook your body, not as gently as he should have. "What did that witch do to you?" Zoro picked you up like a bride and went back to looking for a way out.

The half hour that Zoro wandered through the forest like a ghost in redemption seemed more like an eternity, and with each passing second, though he wouldn't admit it even to himself, his concern grew for the crewmate in his arms who wouldn't wake up. Eventually ⸻ and with a bit of luck ⸻ Zoro made it out of the forest, first meeting up with Chopper and Usopp.

"Apparently she's under some kind of spell." Said a worried Chopper, "We'd better get her to the ship!"

It wasn't long before the others arrived on the ship, and Sanji was arguing with Zoro about his lack of responsibility for a lady's safety.

"Hey Chopper, did you manage to wake her up?" Luffy asked hopefully.

"Nothing so far." Chopper sighed sadly, "I'm going to do some more research on what I can do to wake her up."

In the corner of the room, Zoro let out a discreet sigh and heard the witch's voice in his head. 'She's now condemned to sleep for eternity.' Was it possible to sleep for eternity? How many years was an eternity? You couldn't sleep that long, you had dreams and goals to achieve. Would you never wake up, or was the witch just bluffing? Maybe the witch was making something up to scare him. Maybe you would be up bright and early the next day, ready to train with him. At least you were in good hands, so maybe he shouldn't worry so much...

For a week, you slept soundly.

Apparently, no method Chopper used was enough to wake her up, not even the ones he had learned in his medical books. And your absence made it seem as if something was missing from the crew ⸻ especially to a certain swordsman.

"I thought of something to wake her up!" Sanji exclaimed smiling, "Maybe I should kiss her!" His eyes turned to hearts as he imagined the most romantic scenario of a prince waking his princess with a kiss of true love and they spending eternity together.

"And why would you kiss her?" Usopp looked at Sanji blankly.

"Because that's how enchantments are broken in fairy tales," Sanji replied, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world.

"And what guarantees that you are her true love?" Usopp asked again, emphasizing the 'you'.

"How much do you want to bet that I'm the love of her life?"

"Stop this nonsense!" Nami shouted, "If a kiss of true love is the solution to wake her up, then maybe she really is doomed to sleep forever." Nami's expression turned sad.

"Why do you say that Nami?" Chopper asked, holding back tears, he couldn't lose one of his friends, a part of his new family.

"What guarantees that she has already found her true love? They could be on the Grand Line, in East Blue, anywhere in the world, and they could be dead at the same time."

"Don't say that! I'll do everything I can to wake her up!" Chopper said with conviction.

"Trying won't kill anyone." Robin muttered so that only Zoro could hear.

"What did you say?" Zoro turned to the woman next to him, confused.

"I was just saying that trying doesn't kill anyone, you'd be a good match." Robin got up from the table with the smile of someone who was in on something and walked out of the kitchen.

Zoro looked down at his empty plate. A kiss of true love? Nonsense! You wouldn't wake up if Zoro kissed you, he was sure of that... But then why was he thinking about what it would be like to kiss you?

Zoro looked at your sleeping figure on the bed. The sight of you, completely relaxed, sleeping soundly without a care in the world, as if nothing could touch you, with no idea that you might never wake up again. Zoro was afraid for a moment. Afraid of never hearing you again, afraid of never looking into your eyes, never seeing your smile. Zoro was afraid to lose you. And Roronoa couldn't accept losing you, you were a part of his life that he couldn't let go of easily, he couldn't let you go ⸻ even though he didn't know why it was so hard to let you go.

‘Trying won't kill anyone.’ Robin's voice echoed in his mind. Maybe he should try to kiss you? Would you mind if he kissed you? Would you like him to kiss you? What if he kissed you and you didn't wake up? What would that mean? That he wasn't the love of your life, or maybe that only works in fairy tales? What if Sanji kissed you and you woke up? Zoro shook his head, trying to forget the image of Sanji kissing you and you waking up. He certainly wouldn't want that to happen...

But what if he kissed you and you woke up?

Were you meant to fall in love and stay together? Were you made for each other?

Maybe Zoro wasn't ready to get romantically involved ⸻ but he wouldn't have minded if it was with you...

He tightened his grip on the Wado Ichimonji, determined to carry out his plan. And if you didn't wake up after the kiss, he would do the impossible to wake you up. And in the end, Robin was right, it wouldn't kill him to try just once.

As he got closer to your face, Roronoa felt nervousness rising inside of him. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath, he couldn't give up when he was so close. And then he locked their lips in a three-second kiss before standing up quickly, incredulous at his own actions. He slowly opened his eyes and looked at you, you were still sleeping...

A sigh left Zoro's lips and he turned quickly with his back to you, ready to leave the room.

"Zoro...?" Your voice came out weakly as you blinked your eyes slowly, trying to adjust to the brightness, and sat up in bed, stretching.

"What?" Zoro turned to you in surprise.

"Huh? What's going on? The last thing I remember was meeting someone in the forest who called herself a witch..."

"You were hit by an incantation, Chopper suspected it was the power of an Akuma No Mi. You slept for a week..."

"And you woke me up?"

"Um..." Zoro murmured in confirmation.

"With a kiss?"

"Um..." Zoro murmured again and scratched the back of his head, feeling embarrassed, something that certainly wasn't in his nature.

"Thank you," you smiled openly. And it was then that Zoro realized how much he missed you, perhaps he had never realized what your absence could do to him. You got out of bed and approached Zoro's still figure with long steps, on tiptoe you reached for the boy's cheek with a kiss. "Thanks for saving me again."

"It was nothing..."

"So... you're my Prince Charming?" You smiled teasingly and nudged Zoro's waist.

"This is no fairy tale and I am no prince." Zoro stared at you, his words carrying no weight.

"Yeah, I know!" You laughed, "But you woke me up with a kiss anyway!"

"Yes, but don't think that I'm going to take it easy on you in training." Zoro smiled sideways as he saw the smile disappear from his face, "And remember, you haven't trained for a week."

"Come on Zoro... don't be so mean! You should be nicer to me!" You sulked, "We're soul mates, you shouldn't be mean to me."

"If you do everything right like a good girl, maybe I'll reward you at the end." Zoro's sly smile made you burn with shame.

Zoro could have awakened you from a deep and eternal sleep, but he would have been the reason for your death.

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doctorbitchcrxft · 2 months ago

Text

Bedtime Stories | Supernatural Series Rewrite | Dean Winchester x Fem!Reader

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Fem!Reader

Warnings: healing from a sexual assault, some tasteful smut (MDNI 18+ ONLY), canon violence, canon gore

Word Count: 5344

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Now that you and the brothers had a working Colt thanks to Bobby and, as much as you hated to admit it, Ruby, the brothers were debating what to do with it.

“I don't understand, Dean. Why not?” Sam questioned angrily.

“Because I said so.”

“We got the Colt now!”

“Sam…” Dean warned.

“We can summon the Crossroads Demon—”

Dean shouted over Sam, “We're not summoning anything—!”

“—pull the gun on her, and force her to let you out of the deal!” Sam finished, getting louder.

You rubbed your temples, head pounding with each shout.

“We don't even know if that'll work!” Dean roared.

“Well, then we'll just shoot her! If she dies, then the deal goes away!” Sam yelled.

“Boys!” You finally shouted, silencing them. “Both of you are going to get a grip, or so help me god, I will do this one on my own; you understand?!”

Neither man responded to you, both staring wordlessly at the road ahead.

“Sam, the crossroads demons don’t hold the contracts—” you began.

Sam cut you off. “How do you—?!”

“Let me finish!” you snapped.

Sam quieted again.

“And Dean has already said that if we fuck with this deal at all, you die.”

“And if we don't fuck with it, Dean dies!”

Dean broke back in. “Sam, enough! I am not going to have this conversation.”

The brunet scoffed. “Why, because you said so?”

“Yes, because I fucking said so!” Dean asserted.

“Well, you’re not Dad!”

The two men stared silently at each other.

“No, but I am the oldest,” Dean finally said fiercely. “And I'm doing what's best. And you're going to let this go, you understand me?”

Sam turned away and looked angrily out the window.

“Tell me about the psychotic killer,” Dean ordered calmly. “C'mon, Sam, tell me about the psychotic killer.”

Sam grabbed a paper from his lap and read monotonously. “Psychotic killer… rips victims apart with brute-like ferocity.”

“Any razor sharp teeth or four-inch claws?” you asked.

“No. But the lunar cycle's right. Look,” Sam sighed, “if it is a werewolf, we don't have long; moon's full this Friday and that's the last time it changes for a month.”

Dean shrugged. “Two days, no sweat.”

***

That night, when you arrived at the motel in the town you’d be hunting in, you and Dean got a room separate from Sam. The two boys decided they needed some time apart after their argument.

“How do you know that killing the crossroads demon won’t get rid of my deal?” Dean asked, breaking the silence that had settled over you as the two of you got ready for bed.

“Dean—”

“(Y/N),” he said sternly, turning to face you. “Answer me.”

You sighed, running a hand through your hair as you finished pulling on your— well, Dean’s— t-shirt.

“Sweetheart, please,” he begged you. “Tell me the truth.”

“I’m not gonna mince my words,” you began. “I was trying to get you out of your deal while I was gone. Y’know, before the Seven Deadlies? I tried to make a deal to get you out of yours. No one would bite.”

“(Y/N), why the fuck would you—”

“Because I love you,” you cut him off. You headed over to him and cupped his cheek in your hand. “And if I could stop you from dying without hurting Sam, I would. I’d trade my life for yours in a heartbeat.”

He kissed your palm, but you could tell he was still upset at the thought of you doing that for him. “Are you still trying?”

You shook your head and removed your hand from his face. “No. I knew you’d never forgive me if I was.”

“Damn right,” Dean replied. He stared down at you intensely, and you couldn’t quite read his expression.

You searched his eyes desperately. “What am I gonna do without you,” you breathed out before you could think about it.

Dean leaned down and rested his forehead against yours. You closed your eyes, reveling in the feeling of him against you.

You nuzzled your nose against his and slowly leaned in to kiss him. As soon as your lips connected, Dean wrapped his arms around you and held you against him firmly while you threaded your fingers through his hair.

You could feel Dean encouraging you to jump, and you wound your legs around his waist. He caught you easily and walked you over to the bed. Dean gently laid you back on the pillow, and you kept your ankles crossed behind his back. You tugged greedily on his shirt until he tore it off himself, and he then began pushing your shirt up your body.

You allowed Dean to remove your shirt and then your bra. He looked to you, eyes hungry but pleading and respectful. “Can I—?” He paused. “Can I touch you?”

You nodded, feeling slightly proud of yourself that you were making Dean Winchester get flustered.

“Words, sweetheart,” he said.

“Yes. Please touch me,” you begged, arching into him.

He breathed out, almost in relief, and goosebumps formed under his touch as he trailed his fingers down your stomach. Searching your eyes for any sign of hesitation all the way down, he stopped his fingers at your panties.

“Dean, it’s okay,” you told him.

“I don’t wanna hurt you,” he said, staring at you intensely.

“Dee,” you told him, grabbing his wrist, “it’s okay. I’m okay.” You guided his hand into the waistband of your underwear and allowed him to slip his fingers between your folds.

You took in a sharp breath as he did so, and Dean leaned in to kiss you passionately. He gently bit your lip every once in a while, and you began to palm him through his boxers. He groaned into your mouth, and you couldn’t wait to feel him against you.

“Dean,” you said between kisses, “Dee, I need you.”

“God, yes,” he groaned, “I need you, too.”

You kissed him feverishly, hands making quick work of his and your underwear while he played with your breasts. Dean sat back on his knees and stroked his cock.

You looked up at him, somehow both doe-eyed and wantonly, and spread your legs to expose yourself to him.

“God, (Y/N),” he breathed out. “You are so… beautiful.”

You smiled warmly, instantly reaching out to pull him back down to you. He happily accepted your touch and lined himself up with your vagina.

“Are you sure you want this?” he asked.

“Yes. God, yes,” you moaned.

Dean didn’t need to be told twice. Within seconds, he was inside you. He rolled his hips against yours smoothly, kissing you gently as his thrusts stretched you out deliciously. His thrusts soon became sloppy, and he broke the kiss to reach down to your clit.

“Cum for me,” he commanded gently.

“Need you to first,” you whined.

“Nuh-uh,” he replied, quickening the circles he made around your clit. “Now.”

“Dean—!” you moaned, suddenly convulsing with your orgasm. You reached out to him and scratched at his back, begging the orgasm to slow down. It hit you suddenly and rolled in in waves that you couldn’t escape from. You couldn’t tell whether or not you wanted Dean to get off you or hold you through it, and your spasming around him sent Dean into his own orgasm. Ropes of his cum shot into you, causing your own orgasm to intensify. You whined and writhed around, feeling the ecstasy would never end. It became almost painful, and Dean did his best to soothe you through it. He let you guide him to where you needed him to touch you or not touch you, and you were grateful for this rare moment of gentleness from him.

Still inside you, Dean held you against his chest as your orgasm finally subsided.

“How was that?” he smirked down at you.

You playfully shoved him away.

***

Later that night, still in that same position with Dean— you against his chest with his semi-hard cock inside you— your breathing became so deep that you thought Dean assumed you’d gone to sleep.

“I love you,” Dean admitted.

Your heart nearly stopped. You looked up to him, a flurry of emotions swirling inside you. “You do?”

He nodded. “Thought you were sleeping, honestly, but I’m glad you heard it anyway—”

You cut him off with a deep kiss, hugging him to you. You kissed all over his face, and his boyish giggle was what finally made you stop kissing him. “I love you,” you told him.

“I know.”

“Oh, my god, you did not just Star Wars me,” you scoffed playfully.

“Oh, c’mon, you had to know I would,” Dean replied, nudging his nose with yours.

***

The next day, you and the brothers headed to meet the man who’d barely survived the scuff with the werewolf. When you arrived, the man was apparently expecting you to be the sketch artist.

Much to the brothers relief, your skill with a pen came in quite handy. However, the person who’d killed his brothers was just… human. Interestingly enough, he also had a Wile E. Coyote tattoo. Quite comically, the situation reminded you of the Three Little Pigs story.

You said as much to the brothers when you left the hospital.

“(Y/N), that’s fucked up,” Sam remarked.

“I’m sorry! I know it is! But think about it,” you replied, wincing, “three brothers who work at a construction site? Mauled by a guy with a Wile E. Coyote tattoo?”

“I don’t remember the wolf having a fuckin’ cartoon tattoo, sweetheart,” Dean snorted.

“Whatever. Just thought it was funny,” you shrugged, shoving Dean’s shoulder. “Anyway, what’d you find out from the doc?”

“Not much,” Dean responded, “they were D.O.A. at the scene. He did give me the lowdown on the coroner's report.”

“Lemme guess,” Sam cut him off, “their hearts were missing.”

Dean sighed. “Nope. But chunks of their kidneys, lungs, and intestines.”

“Oh, ew,” you grimaced.

“Yeah; definitely not werewolf behavior.”

“So, what? Demon? Attacker could've been possessed,” the brunet suggested.

“Yeah, but that guy said the dude stopped halfway through the attack. Why would a demon do that?” you challenged.

“I think that, uh…” Sam trailed off. “Could've... Yeah, I got nothing.”

“Me, neither,” said Dean.

***

That night, you and the brothers had gone your separate way for the evening. Dean, of course, was still sharing a room with you.

“Hey, I meant to ask you,” Dean began, “were you… okay with last night?”

You smiled lopsidedly at him. “Yeah, I was.” You appreciated his concern with hurting you or retraumatizing you. You supposed that was one of the reasons he was so helpful to you through all this, and he was likely the reason you were able to be intimate with someone a little under five months after the attack. Had that atrocity happened to you prior to meeting Dean, you were sure your situation would’ve had a vastly different outcome.

You snapped yourself out of your thoughts and began to apply lotion to your legs sitting on the edge of the bed. “Are you and Sam ever gonna talk about your seriously unfinished business?”

“I told him not to bring it up again. So no. And I’d prefer if we didn’t, either,” Dean said sharply.

“Well, frankly, I don’t give a fuck what you’d prefer. You need to apologize to him,” you told him.

“Why?” he scoffed.

“Because I said so,” you stated, throwing the phrase he’d used in his fight with Sam back at him.

He half-chuckled but was still clearly annoyed.

“See? Not so good of a reason, is it?”

Dean barely gave you time to finish your remark before he was speaking up again. “Why do you even care?”

“Because I care about you and Sam. And I have to share a car with you two for the foreseeable future. I’d rather you not wanna kill each other until the end of the line,” you jested, putting the jar of lotion on the nightstand next to you.

Dean lounged against the pillow with his head propped up on the crook of his elbow on the headboard. You shifted yourself to where you were sitting cross-legged next to his hips, facing him.

“Hey, I don’t wanna keep talking about this every day of our lives till you get dragged to Hell—”

“Good,” he cut you off gruffly, “me neither.”

“—but I’m also not gonna pretend like these discussions aren’t important. I need you to be honest with me and yourself. You are scared of going, and that’s okay—”

“Oh, god—” Dean rolled his eyes.

“Hey,” you said, pushing his chin back towards you. “I wasn’t done. But I need you to be honest with me, or this doesn’t work.” You gestured between the two of you as you spoke. “I don’t need you to be tough all the time. I just need you to keep it real with me.”

“What difference does it make? I still go to Hell when this is over anyway,” Dean replied.

“But maybe you’d be able to enjoy living a little bit more if you’d just let me in,” you said, cupping his cheek.

Dean thought for a moment before he kissed the inside of your palm. “You’re right,” was all he could say.

“I know I am,” you smirked.

He rolled his eyes at you, but there was genuine amusement behind them.

***

That night, you didn’t get much sleep. You stayed awake listening to the police scanner and stroking Dean’s hair as he slept soundly beside you. The police scanner held the least of your attention between the two, though. This was another one of those memories you’d hold near and dear to your heart when Dean was gone.

Around five in the morning, the scanner finally caught your attention. Static, frantic ramblings exchanged discussing a woman that had been found staggering around coming from the woods. When deputies went with her back to the scene, they found a house where the woman’s former hiking partner and their attacker, an old woman, lay dead in the kitchen.

You hated to wake up the man with his arms wrapped around your hips, but you knew you needed to get to the hospital the victim was being rushed to and interview her.

“Dean,” you said softly, running your hand through his hair. “Dean.”

He hummed against your hip, tightening his hold of you. You smiled but continued to try and wake him.

“Dean, c’mon.”

“Hmm,” he grumbled, “what time is it?”

“I’m not even gonna tell you, ‘cause you’ll kill me,” you joked, ruffling his hair.

He lightly shoved your hand away from his head and returned his strong arms to their original positioning around you.

“Dean! C’mon; we gotta get to the hospital. Somethin’ came in on the scanner,” you told him.

“Can it wait till seven?” he asked you.

“No.” You tried to wiggle out of his arms to move to the bathroom. He refused to let go of you, though, despite your protests through giggles. “C’mon, dude. We gotta get goin’. I gotta go get Sammy.”

“Ugh, fine,” he grumbled, pressing a kiss to your bare hip.

Goosebumps formed under his lips, and you took in a sharp breath. “Okay, okay, get off me,” you said, gently pushing his arms away from you.

***

When you arrived at the hospital, you talked to the witness who said she and her hiking partner had been drugged by an old woman who poisoned a pie she fed them.

Interestingly enough, she also mentioned seeing a little girl with dark hair and pale skin in the window outside the home.

Naturally, you and the Winchesters went to investigate the house.

You took in your wooded surroundings and the strange house sitting in the middle of nowhere. You went into the house with Sam and noted the EMF meter in his hand beeping frantically.

“(Y/N), I’m thinking you may be right about the whole fairytale thing,” Sam said.

“Dude, I was kidding—”

“Yeah, but I’m not,” he replied. “A guy and a girl? Hiking through the woods, an old lady tries to eat 'em? That's Hansel and Gretel. And, like you said, those three brothers arguing over how to build houses, attacked by the Big Bad Wolf.”

“Like the Grimm Brothers,” you realized. “Sex, violence, cannibalism; a child’s guide to fucked-up folklore.”

“Right,” Sam nodded. “Now, it got sanitized over the years; turned into Disney flicks and bedtime stories.”

“So, why would the ghost be doing a reenactment?” you wondered aloud. “The creepy girl? Pale skin and dark hair sounds like Snow White.”

“You’re right, it does,” Sam said. “But it’s weird that she’s in the middle of another fairytale. But I’m willing to bet you top dollar she was at the construction site too.”

“Dean’s gonna be thrilled. It’s research time,” you snickered.

Sam grinned at you, and the two of you went outside to inform the other brother of your musings.

***

However, your research came up empty. There had been very few violent childhood deaths in the area, and none of them involved a girl with black hair and pale skin.

Dean led you and his brother across the street from the library into the park.

“You wanna know how many little girls with black hair and pale skin that have gone missing?” Dean didn’t give you a chance to respond. “Right again. Zip. zilch, nada. Tell me you've got something good 'cause I've totally wasted the last six hours.”

Sam snorted. “Well, you ever hear of Lillian Bailey? She was a British medium from the 1930s.”

“She got a thing for fairy tales?” Dean questioned.

“Nah, trances. See she'd go into these unconscious states where, uhm, get this, her thoughts and actions were completely controlled by spirits,” the younger brother explained.

“A ghost puppet master,” Dean nodded.

You rolled your eyes. “In layman’s terms, sure.”

“Think that's what this kid is doing? Sending wolfboy and grandma into trances, making them go kill-crazy?” Dean’s brow furrowed.

The brunet shrugged. “Could be. You know, kinda like uh, uh, spirit hypnosis or somethin'.”

“Trances I get, but fairytale trances? That's bizarre even for us,” Dean sighed.

You quickly grabbed Dean’s arm to keep him from stepping on a bullfrog sitting in your path, croaking.

“Yeah, you're right. That's completely normal,” Sam remarked, looking down at the frog.

“Alright, maybe it is fairytales. Totally messed-up fairytales. Wanna kiss the frog, princess?” Dean looked over at you smirking.

“Fuck no,” you grimaced. You turned to see a pumpkin sitting on the porch of a home. “Huh,” you said.

“Yeah? It's close to Halloween,” Dean shrugged.

“No, dude, Cinderella,” you continued. “Pumpkin turns into a coach, and the mice become horses.”

Dean chuckled.

“What?” you asked.

“I dunno, just never pegged you for the fairytale type. You’re a little rough around the edges compared to the Disney princesses.”

“I’ll try not to take offense to that,” you joked, “but I was a little girl once; y’know that, right?” You picked the lock on the house and led the brothers inside.

It was completely quiet, and you and the Winchesters wordlessly decided to split up.

You moved toward the kitchen, and someone inside apparently heard you.

“Help! I'm in here!” a voice called.

“Shh, shh, hey!” you said, rushing into the kitchen. There was a teenage girl handcuffed to the oven. You immediately set to work picking the lock on the cuffs. “It’s okay, I got you,” you told her.

The girl was crying, and her blonde hair was a complete mess. “You have to help me. She's a lunatic.”

“What happened?” you asked quietly.

“My step mom, she just freaked out, screamed at me, beat me. Chained me up,” she explained, sniffling.

“Where is she now?” you asked.

“I don't know.”

You looked up at a shadow behind you to see the little girl with dark hair peeking out from behind the kitchen door. When she noticed you saw her, she turned and left.

You turned back to the teenager and told her you’d be right back, and she nodded.

You walked into the living room, and the little girl was gone.

Discouraged, you turned around to go back to the kitchen. Surprisingly, the girl was standing just behind you.

“Who are you?” you asked.

She said nothing, simply looking at you with sad eyes, and then she disappeared again. You looked down where she stood to find a red apple. “Hi, Snow.”

***

You sat on the hood of the Impala next to Dean, who played with the apple. Sam headed up to you with his hands in his pockets. “Paramedics picked up Cinderella,” he said.

“That's good,” Dean said. He tossed the apple to Sam.

“So, looks like my Snow White theory checks out,” you noted.

“Snow White? Ah, I saw that movie. Or the porn version anyway; 'cause there was this wicked stepmother? Woo, she was wicked,” Dean grinned.

You lightly slapped his shoulder and gave a warning glare. “There is an evil stepmother. And she tries to kill Snow White with a poison apple. But the apple doesn’t kill her; she just falls into a deep sleep. So it’s like she’s dead.”

Sam tossed the apple to you, and you took out your knife. You sliced a piece of the apple off, and the apple began to ooze an acid-like fluid into your hand. You threw it to the ground, mumbling, “Gross.”

***

Once back at the hospital, the nurse informed you there were no comatose little girls. All of their comatose patients were either old men or Callie, who was around sixteen years old.

“Yeah, it's so sad,” the nurse explained. “And poor Dr. Garrison, he just… won't give up on her.”

“Is Callie one of his patients?” Sam asked.

She shook her head. “No. His daughter.”

Exchanging a brief glance with Sam, you and the Winchesters politely thanked the nurse before heading to Callie’s room. Sadly, you looked on as Dr. Garrison read a book to his daughter.

Squinting at the book, you were able to make out the book he was reading to her was Little Red Riding Hood.

Dr. Garrison then noticed you were there and stepped outside the room to talk to you. “Detectives. Can I help you?”

“We just... heard that Callie is your daughter,” Dean said.

“And we wanted to say how very sorry we are,” Sam finished.

Dr. Garrison cleared his throat. “Well, uh. Thank you. If you'll excuse me.”

“Oh, heading this way?” Dean quirked a brow. “We'll walk with you. How long's Callie been like that?”

“We don't mean to intrude,” you clarified.

“We can't possibly understand how hard it must be for you seeing her like this,” Sam added.

The doctor sighed. “It's not easy. She's uh, been here since she was eight years old.”

“That's when she was poisoned?” Sam asked.

“Yeah. Swallowed, uh, bleach,” he explained. “Never figured out how she got her hands on the bottle. My wife found her, uh, brought her to the ER here and I was on call.”

“Your wife was uh, was that Callie's stepmother?” Dean asked.

Dr. Garrison stopped walking and looked at Dean strangely. “Actually, yes. How'd you know that?”

The older brother shrugged. “Lucky guess.”

“Well, Julie was the only mother that uh, Callie ever knew. My wife passed away last year and, uh… it's just my daughter and me now.” He paused for a moment, becoming quite choked up. “She's all I've got left. Um, excuse me. I've gotta get back to work.”

You watched as the doctor moved down the hall, wiping his eyes with the back of his sleeve.

Sam tapped you to turn you around and led you and Dean back down the hall.

“Well, you're right. It's Snow White in spades,” Dean said to you. “Yep. Step-mom poisons the girl, puts her into a deep sleep. What's the motive, you think?”

“Could be like Mischa Barton. Sixth Sense, not the O.C.,” Dean corrected himself.

Sam seemed confused. “What?”

“Hey, you know fairy tales, I know movies,” Dean commented. “She played the pasty ghost. You know the, uh, remember the mom had that thing you know, where you keep the kid sick so you get all the attention?”

“Oh, yeah, yeah, uh, Munchausen Syndrome by Proxy. Huh, could be.”

“So, say all these years, Callie's been suffering silently because nobody knows the truth about what mommy dearest did?”

“And after all this time her spirit just gets angrier and angrier, until it finally just starts lashing out.”

“I’d be pretty pissed to if I was sixteen and still having to listen to my dad read me fuckin’ fairytales,” you added. “It's enough to drive anybody nuts.”

“Okay, but how are we gonna stop her?” Sam questioned. “I mean, Callie's stuck here; her father's keeping her body alive.”

“It does make it a bit hard to burn the bones,” Dean mumbled.

“Ya think?” you deadpanned.

“Coming in!” Someone called from the double doors across the hall from you. You watched as EMTs rushed an old woman in on a stretcher. “Seventy-two year old female, sustained multiple lacerations and puncture wounds. BP is eighty over forty and falling. Sinus tachycardia.”

“Is that a bite?” a doctor asked.

“Looks like she was mauled by a mad dog or, maybe a wolf?”

“What was the last story Dr. Garrison was reading Callie?” Dean asked rhetorically.

You answered anyway. “Good ole Little Red.”

***

The three of you hung around asking the EMTs and policemen that had responded to the scene questions after the grandmother had been pronounced dead. You found out from the policemen that the woman had a granddaughter.

“I’ll stay here,” you told the boys in a hushed voice. “You two go stop the Big Bad Wolf.” You handed the paper with the address of the granddaughter’s home on it over to Dean, who nodded.

“What about you?” Sam asked.

“I’m gonna try to stop Callie,” you said.

Both boys seemed to understand what you meant, even though you weren’t quite sure how to handle this properly yourself.

You immediately set to work searching the corridors for Dr. Garrison. Finally, you found him. “Hi! I need to speak with you,” you announced, approaching him.

“Detective. What can I do for you?” he asked.

“There’s no easy way to say this, but it’s about Callie,” you said sheepishly.

“My daughter? What about her?” The doctor furrowed his brows at you.

“What happened to Callie wasn’t an accident,” you explained. “And Callie’s been trying to tell you that.”

“I don’t have time for this. Stay the hell away from me and my daughter.” Dr. Garrison stormed away from you and toward Callie’s room.

You followed, hot on his heels. “Think about it, man, how’d she get her hands on the bleach? Why would she drink so much of something like that?” You slipped into the room behind the doctor as he reached for the phone on the wall.

“I’m calling security.”

You clamped your hand over the phone to stop him. “Nope. You’re smart. Think about it. If you don’t listen to me, Callie’s gonna hurt somebody else.”

“What the hell are you talking about?!” the doctor cried.

“You're gonna think I'm crazy,” you sighed, “but just understand me. Your daughter Callie is still here. She's a spirit.”

Dr. Garrison’s panic suddenly calmed, and he turned to his daughter’s bed sadly. “So you've seen her too.”

You were shocked. “Wait, you called me a lunatic, and you’ve been seeing her, too?”

“I sensed her,” Dr. Garrison sniffed, sitting on the edge of the bed. “Callie. Her presence, her scent. I even saw her standing at the foot of my bed but I never believed it, I thought I was dreaming, I—”

You shook your head. “Not a dream. She looks like she did when she was eight, right? She’s been trying to talk to you.” Dr. Garrison sighed. “You're not a cop are you?”

You shook your head again, pursing your lips together.

“Then, who are you?”

“Meh, I know a thing or two about this stuff,” you shrugged. “And I also know that your wife was the one to do this to Callie.”

“And how the hell would you know that?!”

“Because Callie told me,” you replied simply. “What?!” Dr. Garrison exclaimed. “My wife loved Callie. So how is— how is that possible?”

“I don’t know. But it is,” you said.

He got up from the bed and began to pace. “No. No I— I don't believe you.”

“Look, dude, believe whatever you want. But your daughter’s pissed. And rightfully so. Nobody’s listening to her. Listen to your damn daughter.”

Dr. Garrison took a deep breath, then nodded. “Callie? Callie, it's Daddy,” he called into the room. “It's me, Daddy. Is it true? Mommy did that to you? I–I know I wasn't listening before, but I'm listening now. Daddy's here. Please honey, is– is there any way that you can tell me?”

The doctor looked back at you, and you nodded to the space beside him where Callie’s spirit stood.

Dr. Garrison turned, and tears immediately flooded his eyes at the sight of his child. “Is it true?”

Callie’s spirit nodded.

“Oh— I'm so sorry, baby. But listen to me,” Dr. Garrison begged through his tears. “You gotta stop what you're doing, okay? You're hurting people. I know everything now. I know the truth. It's time for you to let go. It's time for me to let you go.” He turned back to the body in the hospital bed. The doctor leaned down to the girl and caressed her face, pressing a kiss to her forehead as he cried.

Callie’s monitor flatlined.

***

That night, as Dean slept soundly in your shared bed, you were sat at the table by the window; the journal in front of you only illuminated by the moonlight.

You paperclipped the sketch you’d done for the surviving construction worker of the man who’d attacked him and his brothers into your journal next to the spot where you wrote your latest excerpt.

“As much as I hate to admit it,” you inked, “some part of me believes everything happens for a reason. I’m not big on the whole ‘faith’ thing, but I’ve always thought that. And I can’t help but wonder if Callie’s case is, like, some sort of astral allegory to my situation with Dean. Maybe I’m supposed to let him go. Maybe he was just supposed to be with me for a short time, and I’m supposed to just move on.

“And that fucking sucks. And I can’t accept that. It’s weird; a lot of the cases I work parallel my actual life. And I frequently try to ignore that fact. But this one is really just beating me over the head with possible ‘hidden meaning.’

“But then, I think, if everything happens for a reason, and nothing is coincidence, then somebody’s gotta be pulling the strings here, right? Some sort of fucked-up cosmic being is using my life for his twisted entertainment. It’s using Dean going to hell for the sake of a good fucking storyline or something stupid like that. I don’t understand. I thought ‘god’s plan’ was supposed to be good? I thought he had ‘intentions to prosper us, never to harm us’?

“Anyway. I feel like I’ve thoroughly hashed out my feelings on religion too many times before. At this point, I’m completely over the concept of god. If he is real, I hope he fucking chokes.”

You put your pen down when a blinding light abruptly hit the corner of your eye. You opened the curtains a little more to see the Impala beginning to move out of the parking lot.

Sam had driven you and Dean back from the hospital, and he brought the keys with him to his room. You assumed that was no accident.

“What are you doing, Samuel,” you muttered, staring after the car.

Series Rewrite Taglist: @polireader @brightlilith @atcamillanorrman @jrizzelle @insomnia-bookworm @procrastination20 @mrs-liebgott @djs8891 @tiggytaylor @staple-your-mouth @jesstherebel @rach5ive @strawberrykiwisdogog @bruhidkjustwannaread @mxltifxnd0m @sunshine-on-marz @big-ol-boat @mgchaser @capncrankle @chervbs @simpingdeadcharacters @nesnejwritings @stillhere197 @tearsforhan @take-it-on-the-run @iloveyou2mia @maxinehufflepuffprincess @ohgeehowdigethere @seninjakitey @berarenado @s0urw00lf @princessleahorgana @quarterhorse19 @isla-finke-blog @silverdoragon @karacaroldanvers @gayandfairycore @examishbookwyrm @star-yawnznn @real-sharena-h @fandomloverrr @metalmonki @onlyangel-444 @yu-winchester @benniwiththefanni @daisychaingirl @immagods @missmieux @yoongi-holland @littledebbieinabigworld

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