#I remember I was at my dads work waiting for him to grab some paperwork and I was sobbing in his truck when I realized it was the END end

[dreamaruu]

Heeeeeeey! When did you get into tokyo ghoul? I only got into it after the series was almost finished so I am curious about the people who were there since the early days

So when I first read it, it took me about a week or so to catch up on Tokyo Ghoul. A few days later a new chapter dropped, and after I read that I went looking for info on the update schedule to see if it was a weekly or bi weekly series !… I had just read chapter 143 🐛

Then a few months later we started getting whispers of a sequel series, so I read TG:Re as it updated !!! I’ve been a fan of the series since around 2014

In fact because I think its silly I will post this awful Haise art I made in highschool vs the one I just did as comparison BAHAHHAHAA

[anadiasmount]

as time gets close - jude bellingham x reader.

quick sum: almost close to your due date, what is wrong with a late-night grocery trip with your very excited and anxiously waiting fiance?

wc: 1.8k | masterlist | jude's masterlist

psa 🗣️: a little dad! jude blurb bc we haven’t seen much of this on the timeline!! like always hope you enjoy 🤍

"why are you bending down? you know that is bad for you," you rolled your eyes at your fiance's scolding, grabbing the keys from the floor. "i dropped the keys by accident," you say as you pick the correct key that belonged to the lock. jude rubbed your belly, ensuring you were okay before helping you out to the car, the reusable bags tucked underneath his arm.

"did you bring the list?" you ask him seeing as he nods and pulls it out from the pockets of his hoodie. "i did. i also brought you some snacks because you didn't eat much after getting some nausea," you pouted your lips leaning up to peck his cheek thanking him. "what would i do without you?" you tease, a playful scoff falling from his lips.

"what makes you think you'd be without me? i'm attached to you for life remember?" he grabs your left hand kissing over your ring finger as he gives you a knowing look. you feel as he brings your intertwined hands to your belly, "and you're carrying my baby in there."

"really i couldn't tell," you say sarcastically.

"let's make it quick because my feet already hurt and i want to sleep," you advised letting out a tired yawn. despite being close to your due date, you still had some work to do before maternity leave. making calls to set meetings, attending them over zoom, filing paperwork, in charge of making sure the firm doesn't backfire, and planning some stuff out for your wedding.

jude had told you multiple times to take it easy, but placing that aside, he always helped you unconditionally. in the shower, when cooking, taking care of chores, before bed, and attending all your doctor's appointments. he was your personal midwife and wanted to take care of you the most he could.

you remembered to look on his face when you told him you were expecting, the tears on his face as he spoke to your barely bump all night and traced his hands on your belly. singing and humming lullabies and stories about his day. since then he wanted to protect you the best he could.

going to the grocery store at this time was nothing new, in fact, it became so prevalent now that you were pregnant because you craved everything. making jude do a late run to pick up your cravings or groceries for the upcoming weeks. the same store, at the same time.

you placed your purse on the cart, snuggling into your jacket as the cold air inside the store blew you away. you followed jude who picked out veggies and greens for his meal prepping, helping him tie the bags and weigh them on the digital scale that produced labels. you watched in awe as your boyfriend picked out three pairs of different flowers. "what are these for?" you asked, smelling the flowery scent.

"for the house. we need to replace the old ones that dried out," jude says with a shy grin. "you were the one who said plants and flowers bring a sense of home into our house, " jude recalled your words, kissing your temple, pushing the cart since it became a bit heavier. "i did say that didn't i? well i wasn't wrong," you shrug, wrapping a hand around his bicep as he trailed along isles to pick up the different items on the list.

he did all the heavy lifting as you reached and picked stuff up from your level, like spices and eggs. you turn your back for a few seconds to retrieve some milk and coffee beans for the morning, to see the cart filled with pop tarts and other salty snacks. "no no no," you shake your head, as jude whines out protests. "y/n we need them! they're even on sale!"

“jude, i don’t care! we just got some three days ago!,” you say laughing, putting back the box of pop tarts. “y/n i’m telling you right now, in a couple of hours or days you’re gonna have me running back here for them,” jude states following behind you.

“am not!” you quickly defend, bringing a hand to your aching back. “are too! last night you had me running out for cheetos. what’s it going to be today? kettled popcorn? or wingstop?” jude teased making you rolls your eyes and focusing back on to what needed to get done. “don’t forget we need to pick some of that acid reflex stuff for you, to get rid of the heartburn,” jude reminds you, taking the cart and walking out of the pop tarts isle, sneaking a box in for you.

“what’s left on the list?” you ask him, taking out a small snack you had in your purse and offering some to jude. “we need bananas, strawberries, orange juice, and meats for upcoming dinners…” jude reads the list one by one, using his index finger as he goes along.

you pass by an isle grabbing some cereal and granola for your yogurts and bowls. jude insisting he grabs his favorite too since you refuse to share from your part. as you wait by the deli section jude come behind you, grabbing your belly and relieving some of the pressure.

you immediately lay your head back on his shoulder sighing in relief, hearing jude chuckle and place a kiss on your head. “almost there darling,” he whispered running one of his hands along your tummy. “i know what you’re doing jude… and if this baby starts kicking right now i’ll leave you here,” you warn.

“i’m just trying to help you love. doesn’t it feel good?” he reprimanded as you nodded. “yes but not when she starts kicking, i swear she does it on purpose and it’s your fault. like she knows it you,” you said feeling your lower back less tense and heavy. "i kid you not, last night she almost made me pee from this hard kick!"

"sounds to me like we have a mini footballer coming into our lives," said jude continuing to hold your belly since you were tired and your baby was heavy. he had read the method online with other tips and tricks. jude got more into reading when he found out you were pregnant, wanting to know every effect and secret to ensure a healthy and safe pregnancy.

"let's hope not, i don't think i could handle cleaning up broken stuff around the house every day," you sigh, releasing yourself from his hold because you began to get hot. you didn’t understand how your body was so quick to adjust and then de-adjust from hot and cold, but it was so easy and it drove you mad sometimes.

“you okay?” jude softened his eyes as you let out a breath of despair, holding your hand and feeling a sit squeezed tightly against his. “yeah just got a mini cramp,” you held your back and practiced breathing methods you learned, “i’m good, i promise,” you kiss his hand before retrieving the meats from the butcher. "we'll get home soon, and i promise you a warm tea and massage okay?"

"did you want chocolate or strawberry milk?" jude held up the pint containers, "strawberry, we still have chocolate milk at home," you said, jude nodding as he quickly picked the orange juice and your favorite yogurts. "i was never a fan of sweet or flavored milk but these are soooo good," you exaggerated, jude smiling hard down at you.

"never a fan? these were my childhood as a kid! my mum used to buy these or the powder to make it ourselves," jude says recalling a old memory thinking of his babygirl. "you reckon she'll like them too?" jude spoke softly as he saw you give him a fast nod. if there was one thing loved it was discussing his babygirl. he was so anxious and wanted to meet her. the itch in his teeth getting bigger as every day passes.

to hold her while she slept, hug her to keep her warm, coddle her to sleep, feed her. he was ready for it all. he loved to shop and spoil her already. her carrier, crib, different books, toys, and stuffed animals like he had as a kid. she didn't know it yet, but she would be jude's second best friend. firstly you. always you.

they saw if one ever finds love at first sight, and jude definitely did with you. a smile so bright, eyes gleaming with happiness, a stranger who he fell madly with almost immediately after hearing her say hello. through ups and downs, you found your way to each other and since then, it's a love story for the movies. jude had his career blowing, a beautiful fiancee, and now a baby on the way. what more could he want?

as jude helped bag the groceries into the recycled bags you had, you paid and thanked the cashier whom you got close with on nights like these. asking how her day was, about her kids, anything special, always something to distract her. "you two have a safe night!" she yelled as you turned and thanked, wishing her a good night as well.

after you insisted on helping, you carried four light bags as jude carried most bags since he hated double trips. you guys quickly unpacked everything, longing and wishing to get into bed. you ensure the stove and other appliances are off, grabbing your tea and heading upstairs with jude.

"lay here for me," jude instructed, grabbing some cream and begging to smooth and massage out the muscles on your legs and shoulders. "after we have her, i promise i'll return every single thing you did for me while i was pregnant," you say struggled and full pleasure as the tension went away at jude's fingertips. "oh i'm fully expecting the injured boyfriend method again," jude teased as he finished up.

he grabbed a new book, laying on your side as you brushed and played with a few curls on his head, twirling them around your finger as he breathed softly. he looked so gentle and full of excitement like this, reading to your babygirl, who sensed her daddy's voice as she kicked. she knew, she always knew.

he applied your belly oil to prevent any stretch marks and kissed the small ones that formed along the way. jude cherished your body for carrying his baby in there, for being able to give and bring a new life into his and yours. you laid on your side, jude's chest connecting and fitting the crevasse on your back, holding your tummy as in a way to keep it safe.

you placed and locked hands with his, as jude wishing you a goodnight, peering kissed on your shoulders then finally lips, moaning in delight, a tiny groan leaving his lips. "i love you so much darling," he whispered, kissing your temple and snuggling into you more. "iloveyoutoojude," you said fast, with a playful smile on your lips as you felt a familiar sensation of a certain craving. "okay now i do want some pop tarts..."

"are you serious right now?"

[skeltnwrites]

The Shape of Family ‧₊˚❀༉

As a single dad, Steve’s world revolves around school drop-offs, bedtime rituals, and tee-ball practices—and he's struggling to keep up. But you're always there, happily lending a hand when he needs it most. / masterlist

part one - you find out your work crush is a dad and offer to watch his mischievous little girl so he can get some work done 5.2k

a/n - penelope is a little shit and i love her dearly, general warnings/tags here

── .✦

“Hey, sorry to bother you, Steve. I just had a quick question– but before I forget, there’s this little girl in the lobby knocking stuff over. Do you know if her parents are here?” 

“Fuck– sorry. One sec.” 

He brushes past you with an urgency that is typical of Steve. As the community outreach coordinator, he’s naturally a busy man. You haven’t known him long– just the couple of months since you became a volunteer for the local rec center– but it’s clear he’s dedicated to his work. Always zipping from one end of the building to the other, juggling class setups, organizing meetings, or hunting down the next thing that needs fixing. He tends to add more to his plate than he can carry, at least according to another staff member, which is why you’ve been assigned to help him. 

You strain to match his long strides and nearly take out a trash can when he turns a corner unexpectedly. But you can’t lose him now– someone is always nearby to steal him for paperwork or performance reviews and all you have is a quick question. 

The lobby unfortunately looks like a tornado blew through the front doors. Cabinets are thrown open, papers are scattered like leaves across the floor, and a chair has been toppled over. And said tornado has her cheek pressed to the vending machine glass, an arm twisted inside the dispenser box to reach for a loose pack of Skittles. The scene is almost amusing until you remember you’ll likely be the one to clean it up. 

“Penelope!” Steve scolds, not loud but stern enough to surprise you. He’s consistently an embodiment of gentleness– always accommodating and rarely assertive. And while he’s still gentle with her, his tone carries a weight and firmness that’s a stark departure from his usual demeanor. 

The girl, Penelope, retracts her arm and spins around to face Steve. And if it wasn’t for the shit-eating grin pinned to her face, you might’ve felt bad for getting her in trouble. 

Steve’s hands snap to his hips. “I asked you to wait in my office.” 

She shrugs, “Need a snack.”

Steve huffs and rakes a hand through his hair– a habit when he’s stressed, which is most of the time it seems. By the end of the day, his hairspray will have been combed out and Steve will argue with the strands that curl over his forehead. 

“You can have one after you clean this up and if you stay in my office.” 

“Candy?”

“No, no candy. There’s snacks in your lunchbox.” He bends to scoop up a few pamphlets to hand to her. “Or I have pretzels. Do you want that?”

She pinches a page between her nails, weighing her options. 

Steve pries tiny fingers off, “Don’t rip those. Put ‘em away please.” 

And she listens for maybe the first time ever, it seems, cramming a stack of them back on the shelf. 

You gather your own stack of handouts and press them into Steve’s sleeve. He recoils a step, his eyes widening before rapidly shutting in a moment of realization. “Sorry! You had a question- I’m sorry.” 

Penelope abandons her organizing to plant herself at Steve’s left like a sidekick– anything to get out of cleaning up. She gazes at you with a familiar pair of almond eyes and then it clicks. Her hair is the same shade of brown and her jaw, though softer, is square shaped like Steve’s. The resemblance is indisputable. 

You redirect your stare to answer Steve. “Um, yeah– I just needed to borrow the storage closet key to grab some more chairs.” 

“Oh, of course.” He pats the front pocket of his jeans. “Keys are in my office– I hope.” 

Steve marches past you once again, a new mission in mind, tugging Penelope by the wrist and toeing a cabinet shut on the way out. Penelope’s poor little legs must be tired if he always walks this fast. 

“I don’t want pretzels,” she eventually decides. 

“Then you can have what’s in your lunchbox.” He glances over his shoulder to confirm you’re in tow, “This is my daughter, Penelope, by the way.” 

“Nice to meet you, Penelope.” You wave, not that she sees. 

A braid sits high on her head, swinging like a horse's tail with each hurried step. Her faded denim overalls ride up slightly, exposing just enough ankle to show off the bubblegum pink Converse on her feet. She’s a cute little thing, button-eyed and puffy-cheeked like a cabbage patch kid. 

Steve nudges her with his hip, “Say hi.”

She throws you an impartial glance. “Hi.” 

When Steve’s office is in sight, Penelope wriggles away from his hold to sprint down the hall. On her tip-toes, she flicks on the light, letting the door slam in Steve’s face. You catch him rolling his eyes as he stops the door with his foot for you. Penelope is clambering onto his chair like it’s a race and pushing off the desk to spin as soon as she’s seated. Steve steers her out of the way to search the drawers, passing you a set of keys when he finds them. 

“Just bring ‘em back, please. Dottie found them in lost and found last week.” 

“Thanks, I will,” you promise, eyes falling over Penelope again. 

It’s your cue to leave, but your feet remain anchored to the floor. Your mind is buzzing with questions that neither of you have the time to discuss. The rational part of you knows you should exit before you let your curiosity win. Yet, you find yourself lingering in the doorway, stalling just long enough for Steve to lift an eyebrow in silent inquiry.

And before you can rule whether or not it's a good idea, you blurt out, “I can keep an eye on her if you want?” 

Penelope peaks over the back of the chair, perched on her knees so she can see. 

Steve shakes his head, “No, it’s okay. You’ve got stuff to do. And Penelope is going to be a better listener for the rest of the day, right?” He ruffles her hair, earning him a glare. 

You bite back a smile. It’s a funny thing, seeing that frown and furrowed brows that resemble Steve’s so clearly because you can’t imagine him making that face at anyone ever. It’s cute, even if it’s meant to be mean, but you would never tell her as much. 

“I really don’t mind. She could help me tape the flyers up– If she wants something to do?” You direct the last part at Penelope. To a kid, being trapped in their dad’s dusty old office is probably boredom purgatory. 

Penelope blinks at you and then Steve for permission. 

“You want to?” He asks.

She nods, then adds, “Snack too?” 

“Yes, honey.” He sighs, faint but deflated, burdened by the guilt of not feeding her sooner. Steve fishes her backpack out from under his desk. A vivid shade of pink with a Barbie patch sewn to the front. Her tin lunchbox is similarly themed and only harbors a bag of fruit snacks. 

“Fruit snacks or pretzels?” 

Penelope’s features pinch in a way that says neither but she snatches the fruit snacks anyway. Decidedly dismissed or over the conversation, she hops off the chair and sees herself out. 

You can’t help the smile that finds your lips as you turn back to Steve.

He chuckles, “It’s been a day. Bring her back if she doesn’t listen. Good luck.” 

Penelope leans against the wall outside, popping a gummy in her mouth lazily. 

“We’re gonna make a pitstop at the supply closet and then you can help me with the flyers.” 

She doesn’t say anything, but she follows as you start walking, and that’s all you need from her. She’s strangely silent for a kid, especially Steve’s kid. Conversation seems to come easy to him, he likes to talk, which is one of the reasons you still can’t believe you didn’t know he had a child. On your first day as a volunteer, he’d crammed that he was on the swim team in high school, that he's from Indiana, and that he prefers the warmer months all in one conversation– the guy is an open book.  

And you’re quiet too because you’re focused on recalling where they put that damned supply closet. The rec center halls all sort of look the same still, bleeding into one jumbled image of wood paneling and old carpet in your mind. The building is practically a maze; constructed in the fifties, it still carries its historic charm—stubborn doors, leaky faucets, and all—issues the city claims they 'can’t afford' to fix. 

Penelope must get tired of going in circles because eventually she tugs on your sleeve and points down the opposite hall you were planning on going. When she leads you right up to the door you beam at her. For a second, she forgets to be brooding and smiles back. 

“You’re a smart little cookie, Penelope. How’d you know it was here?” You ask, unlocking the door. 

She shrugs nonchalantly, “I just know things.”

You laugh loud enough to draw eyes from a nearby meeting and determine Penelope is the funniest kid you’ve ever met. 

She holds the door open at your request, munching on her fruit snacks as you maneuver a stack of chairs into the hall. You make it back to the classroom without her directions, not to toot your own horn. She tosses her empty wrapper in the trash as you unstack the chairs. 

“Here,” you pass her a roll of tape. “Rip some pieces off for me?” 

She nods, ambling over to the wall with you.  

“So, Penelope, how old are you?” You ask, pressing a flyer against the wallpaper. 

She debates, flipping fingers up and down on her free hand before concluding, “Four.” 

“Ohh, very cool. You’re almost ready to go to school with the big kids, huh?” 

“Yes, at the big school. I’m in pre-school.” 

“Mhmm. Do you like preschool?” 

She hums no and strains to tear off a piece. 

“Here, like this,” you demonstrate, pulling in the proper direction. She copies you, ripping a neat line. The corners of her lips raise as she views her handiwork. 

“You don’t like school?” You ask, peering down. 

She hands you the slice of tape. “Only sometimes.” 

“Why only sometimes?” 

She shrugs and heaves a hefty sigh for such little lungs. She’s too small to be sighing like that, you think, and she definitely acquired it from Steve. 

“I only like work sometimes too,” you admit. 

Her eyes chase yours– all innocently wide and filled with disbelief. She rips off another square of tape, “Are your friends not nice?” 

You consider her question, answering truthfully, “Well, maybe sometimes, I guess.” 

“Meg was not a kind friend today.” Her tone is hilariously chastizing for a child. Kids are just like mini adults sometimes– collecting random phrases and mannerisms like trading cards.  

“No? Why’s that?” 

“She wouldn’t share. Daddy always says sharing is caring.” 

“That’s true. Did you tell your teacher?” 

Penelope shakes her head, tilting on her heels.

“Why not?”

“Meg told the teacher on me because I wasn’t being a kind friend either.” 

“Oh. Why weren’t you being a kind friend?” 

“Because I wanted to play with the dolls too,” she mumbles, upset wavering in her voice. To a child, these seemingly trivial matters really do feel like the end of the world, so you can’t help but empathize, even as you wish your worries were confined to sharing toys.

You crouch in front of Penelope, “We still should be kind, hmm? Even when our friends don’t want to share?” 

Penelope’s unconvinced, picking at her nail like the dirt underneath is a more important issue. But you’re at the end of your stack of cardstock and it maybe isn’t your place to have this conversation anyway. 

You get her set up at a table with printer paper and a box of crayons from the closet. She dumps them out immediately, spraying rainbow across her paper so she can find the “bestest” colors.  

“I can share,” she declares, sliding her extra sheet over to your end of the table. 

“That’s very sweet of you. Thank you.” You catch a crayon before it rolls onto the floor. “What should I draw?” 

“I’m coloring my family.” 

“That’s nice. I think I’ll draw a dinosaur.” 

“A dinosaur?” She cocks her head and giggles, bubbly and pure in the way that kids laugh. Your heart aches with happiness. “That’s silly!” 

“What? Why’s that silly?” 

She cackles like this is the funniest idea anyone’s ever had. “They just are!” 

“Hmm. Should I draw a serious dinosaur then?” 

“All dinosaurs are silly– Trevor says so.”

“What! Why does he think that?” 

Her words fuse into one smear of a sound as she shrugs, “I dunno.” 

“Well, my dinosaur is very serious. See?”

She presses into your arm to examine your quick sketch. “That’s not a dinosaur!” 

“It is! You can’t tell?” 

She nibbles on her lip, smile growing as she shakes her head. 

You pull the paper closer, as if a better angle might somehow improve it. “Hmm, I guess it does look a bit like an alien, doesn’t it?”

Penelope giggles and nods enthusiastically before returning to her work. Her crayon moves methodically across the paper, lips pressed together in concentration. After a long spell of silence, she kindly requests, “Can you draw a house?” 

“Of course,” you reply, “On my paper or yours?”

“Mine,” she says, her pointer finger tapping the corner of her sheet with emphasis.

The drawing is a riot of color, blending bold strokes of crayon to create two people and an animal. The taller, presumably Steve, is painted with orange and yellow hues– true to the the warmth he represents. Penelope, doused in cooler tones, carries their floppy-eared pet– a bunny or a dog, maybe? 

“Wow, Penelope! This is amazing!” You genuinely mean it; despite her young age, her talent shines through in little details like eyelashes and a set of heart-shaped earrings. “Is this you and Daddy?”

“Yes, and Cinderella!” she adds proudly.

“Oh, that’s wonderful,” you say, admiring her work. “Is Cinderella your pet?” 

She bobs her head animatedly. 

“Wow, she looks like a very pretty… animal in your drawing.” 

“She is a very pretty cat,” Penelope affirms and you are relieved not to have guessed incorrectly. She stares at you for a long moment. “Is Cinderella family?” 

“Well, does she live with you?”

Penelope scrunches her nose and tips her head, “Sort of?”

“She sort of lives with you?”

“Yeah. She lives outside mostly but sometimes I let her inside.” Her pitch fluctuates as she talks, the words lilting in a strange, almost sing-song cadence that kids do. 

“Ohh,” you smile. “Do you feed Cinderella?”

“Yes, Daddy buys her food in a can and it’s really stinky!” 

Penelope joins you when you laugh. Not because you are but because stinky things are just funny at her age. 

“Do you love Cinderella?” You ask. 

“Yes– except when she bites me.” She sobers quickly, forehead wrinkling. 

“Oh,” you chuckle, “Well, I think she’s family then.” 

“I think so too,” she states seriously, swapping a blue crayon for a green. 

“What color should the house be?” You claw through the rainbow spread.  

“White!” 

“Well, the paper’s already white but how ‘bout I outline the house in black so you know where it is?” 

“I guess so. There’s two windows and the door is red– Oh, and there are lots of flowers outside.” 

You nod, sketching her vision into existence. “Is this your house?” 

“Yes, and Daddy’s. And sometimes Cinderella’s.”

“Just you three? Is that your whole family?” Admittedly, it’s a self-indulgent question. You’re curious about Penelope’s mom. And you noticed Steve doesn’t wear a ring, checked multiple times in the last few weeks even. But that doesn’t refute the possibility he might be seeing someone. 

“Yes, Daddy and Cinderella is my family. Daddy says families come in all shapes and sizes.” 

You’re glowing with a fondness that’s impossible to hide– because everything about her is adorable– her chubby cheeks, her tinkling little laugh, even her attitude, though Steve would probably disagree with the latter. She’s different than Steve in a lot of ways: grumpier and more aloof, but, at her age, it’s cute. And still, she feels like his carbon copy. An echo of everything you’ve come to like about him. 

Him being a dad makes perfect sense in retrospect. To have overlooked such an important part of his life seems silly. A tenderness radiates from Steve, the kind only a parent could possess. He’s full of love– too much not to share. He pours lots into his work: late nights at the center, taking on more than he can chew, always with a smile. And the rest? It must go to Penelope. 

“Your dad is very right about that.” 

She smirks confidently, holding up her artwork, “I’m going to give this to him.”

“I bet he’ll love it so much, Penelope!” 

And his dad senses must be tingling at the mention of his name because his face appears in the door’s slim window not even a minute later. His lips curve into a grin as he realizes he’s been caught spying. 

The door clicks and Penelope turns. “Hi, Daddy.”  

“Hi, baby,” Steve strolls over to the opposite side of the table, “Are you being a good listener?” His attention flicks around the room, searching for any signs of misbehavior. 

Penelope shimmies up tall in her seat and nods until he meets her pleased gaze. 

Steve must believe the girl because he doesn’t press further, but you praise her anyway, “Very good. Penelope’s been an amazing helper this afternoon.” 

“Is that right?” He orbits the table to stand behind her. “What are you drawing, Nell?”

She flips over her paper, clapping the front against the table. “It’s a surprise!”

“Oh, sorry!” He paces back, redirecting his attention to you. “I didn’t see it.” 

Penelope twists around to confirm his eyes are elsewhere before proceeding to squeeze in a final set of details– grass blades and sun rays. “Here,” she thrusts the page into his hands. “For you.” 

“For me?” His face lights up like a Christmas tree before he’s even seen it. She could hand him a pebble, and he’d treasure it like a gem. And when his eyes do fan across the drawing, he melts. 

“This is so lovely!” He coos. “Where did you get all this talent from? This belongs in a museum, Nell!” He keeps his heart from bursting with a steady palm to his chest. And with his free hand, he flashes it at you just long enough to catch a glimpse before he reels it in to study some more. “And you got Cinderella’s stripes too. Wow.” 

He squats behind Penelope’s chair, throwing an arm around her middle, “Thank you for this. And thank you for being a good listener. That makes my heart very happy.” 

She slumps into his chest, peering up at the reflection of her own features. “Is it time to go?” 

His eyes leap to the clock hung on the opposite wall. “Couple more hours, babe.”

Penelope huffs. 

“I’m gonna hang this in my office. I love it so so much!” He sows a couple of kisses on her temple, straining to stand with achy knees. “You wanna come hang out with me or stay here?” 

She looks at you like you might object. “Here.” 

If Steve’s offended, he doesn’t show it. He’s still grinning like the Cheshire cat, high on the parenting win that is receiving willing affection from your child.  “That okay?” He asks you. 

“Of course. I’ll put her to work,” you reassure. 

“Good, keep her busy. It keeps her out of trouble.” He raises the drawing for another look. “I’ll be in my office, doing paperwork, yay.” 

You snicker, as he retraces the path he came. “Have fun with that boss!”

Just before the door slams shut, he yells back, equally playful, “I told you to stop calling me that!”

Penelope doodles some more, gifting you a vibrant rendition of the night sky– a collection of stars and circles and swirls. You’re so grateful you tell her it’ll go on your fridge, and it does as soon as you’re home. She sorts through toys and equipment in the gym closet and even holds your dustpan when you sweep. Her role as your helper is taken very seriously. 

The two hours pass faster than you expect. Time flies when you're having fun, as Steve would say. All his little phrases and cheesy jokes suddenly make sense in the context of him being a dad. 

She takes your hand on the way to Steve’s office, escorting you when you pretend not to know which direction it’s in. It’s as comforting as it is validating; winning the kindness and attention of four-year-olds, especially this one, is difficult. You knock on the wood frame even though the door’s propped open. 

Steve peaks up through a rare pair of reading glasses. Round, wireframes that match the golden shade his hair assumes when it catches the light. They highlight his eyes—warm and gentle as a summer breeze. But he swipes them off his nose, folding them with practiced care. 

A smile mends his frown as Penelope climbs into his lap. “Hi, sweetheart.” 

She wiggles into a comfortable position, nudging his chest until he reclines further to make space. “Hi.”

“Are you having fun?” Steve cradles her shin to keep her from slipping. “What have you been up to?”

“Cleaning.” Her tone is casual, dismissive even, like it’s nothing to fuss over; but her eyes are fixed on him, waiting for a reaction. 

Steve gasps, “No way! You were cleaning? I don’t know if I believe it.” 

“I was!” Penelope whines, tickled with glee. 

“Hmm, is this true?” He arches an eyebrow at you. 

You nod, delighted to play along. “It is. Penelope here is excellent at handling a dustpan. She even organized the dodgeballs by color.”

“Really? Because you never-ever want to clean at home.”

“I do!” She squeals, bending backward over the arm of his chair.

“Yeah right.” He blows a raspberry on her belly where her shirt has pinched up.

She shrieks, squirming and kicking her heels into his thigh. Steve’s dad reflexes must clock in because he blocks her knee just before it drives into his cheek. And he takes it as a sign to ease up before someone gets hurt– craning back up and scooping Penelope into a baby cradle against his chest. Her legs are long and lanky, dangling over his arms like uncooked spaghetti. 

“Do we need to invite them over every time you make a mess in your room? Will that solve the problem?” He teases, squishing her arms against his shirt so she can’t escape and peppering kisses from temple to temple. 

Eventually, Penelope comes to terms that no amount of writhing will succeed against his strength. She slackens in his embrace, surrendering to the terrible thing that is unconditional love. 

“Oh, here are your keys!” They rattle against the desk where you drop them. 

Steve nods into Penelope's crown, poking her side. “Can you say ‘thank you for hanging out with me?’”

Anticipating another round of tickles, she grins before parroting, “Thank you for hanging out with me.”

“Thank you for helping me clean!”

Her eyes sweep back over to Steve, “Can we go home yet?” 

His fingers tap rhythmically on the desk, a small sigh escaping as he glances at the paperwork drowning his workspace. “We’ll leave as soon as I’m finished.” He pecks the top of her head. “Promise.”

She rolls her eyes, moaning, “Daddy, come on it’s taking, like, a million years!”

“A million? Surely not.” 

“It is!” She elongates the sound until it’s less word and more noise. 

His shoulders droop, tension slipping from his frame as he agrees, “Okay. I’m ready to go too.” 

You don’t blame him for giving in so easily, Penelope’s puppy eyes are powerful. Her chunky little hands smoosh his cheeks– molding and kneading like it’s play-doh, “Is that why your face looks so sleepy?”

A hearty laugh bursts from his throat, “Yes, that’s why my face looks so sleepy.” He pats her arms, “Come on. Up.” 

Penelope scoots off his knees, gripping his wrist for balance. Steve ducks under the desk for his backpack and shoves the stack of paperwork inside. 

“Hey, I meant to ask you, is the new schedule working okay for you?” He asks you, always so thoughtful. 

You nod earnestly. “Yeah, actually, I like doing Fridays better I think.”

“Yeah, Fridays are fun. Fitness Friday has been a big hit with the high school's soccer team.” He slings his bag over his shoulder and lifts Penelope’s by the strap. 

“Oh, good! Did the new jump ropes come in?” Conversations like this, as mundane as they are, are fleeting– the next interruption always around the corner– so you savor it while you have him. 

“Mmmm, not yet. I think they’re coming next week– shipping delays or something.” 

You turn to leave but stop in your tracks, attention stolen by Penelope’s drawing. As promised, it’s hung up– a few pieces of scotch tape secure it to the wall across from his desk. 

“I’m gonna get a frame for it,” Steve passes you with a toothy smile, flicking off the light. 

Penelope chimes in before you can respond, “Can I play jump rope?”

“I don't know if you know how, babe. I can teach you.” 

“I can! I did at school!”

“You did? I didn’t know that.” Steve waves to a passing coworker. “Maybe we’ll buy one for home too then.” 

Penelope nods, hopping the last stretch to the front door. 

“Any fun plans this weekend?” Steve asks you outside, bumping the back of Penelope’s hand until she takes his. The parking lot is almost empty at this time of day, but a few stragglers remain inside after hours. 

“If you think laundry is fun, then sure.” 

“Oh, I know all about that, trust me.” He nods at Penelope, “This one goes through more clothes in a week than I do in a month.” 

Steve approaches a BMW, only a few spots over from your car. An older model, but well taken care of. It’s a nice shade of burgundy with a stick-figure family on the back windshield. It feels so him. 

You hum a happy sound. “What about you? Any plans?” 

“Besides laundry? Well, we’re actually going kayaking at Red Fleet tomorrow,” he unlocks the passenger door, tucking the backpacks in the footwell. 

“Oh, fun! Are you excited?” You ask Penelope. 

“I’m gonna look for frogs.” 

She wrenches the handle a few times before her door flies open. Steve intercepts mid-swing to prevent her from denting the neighboring truck at the expense of his fingers. 

“Ow– shit,” he grimaces, shaking his wrist. He visibly swallows any other swears when he sees Penelope gawking, “Nell, I’ve told you to be gentle with the door.” 

“You said we can’t say that word,” she points out, climbing into her car seat.

You scrub your mouth, not so inconspicuously erasing your smile. 

“I– yes,” he nods, “You’re right. We shouldn’t say that word. I just–”

“Even when we’re frustrated; that’s what you said!” 

Steve takes a deep breath through his nose, choking down his several feelings. She’s right, he did say that, to hopefully stop her from swearing at preschool, but the profanity policing is comical coming from a four-year-old. And he can’t be laughing right now– he has parenting to do– but he’s on the verge of breaking when he catches sight of your face.  

Steve collects himself as he buckles her in. “Yes, Penelope. I shouldn’t have said it. I’m sorry.” 

She pats his head, “It’s okay. We all do mistakes.” 

Steve softens. The irritation evaporates instantly, replaced by a surge of satisfaction. This is one of those rare moments where he can so clearly recognize the lessons he’s instilled taking shape. 

He lets himself chuckle then, “We do. We all make mistakes and that’s okay.” 

She nods as he tightens her straps, “Like when I spilled my juice this morning.”

“Exactly.” He triple-checks that all her limbs are safely out of the door’s reach before shutting it.  

He faces you, scratching his cheek– rosy and round with joy. “How much you wanna bet she swears at me tomorrow?”

“Hey, I don’t doubt it!” Your elation mirrors his. 

“If she can’t find any frogs at the park I can almost guarantee it.” 

“Better help her look then.” 

“Yeah, yeah. I’d invite you but it’s reservation-based. And I’d be surprised if there’s any spots open still… But we can sneak you in if you really want to go.” It’s meant to be a joke, but something in the way he holds your gaze suggests a level of seriousness. 

“No, that’s okay,” you grin. “The pile of laundry on my bed awaits.”

“Well, maybe next time.” 

You try not to read into it. Steve’s a friendly guy, he probably invites his coworkers out to things all the time. 

You nod, idling at the hood of his beamer. 

“I really appreciate you watching her today. You’re a lifesaver, truly,” he shakes his head, peeking at Penelope through the window. “She’s been a handful lately– I mean, I had to pick her up early today because she bit another kid, can you believe that?” 

“She’s a kid,” you shrug, “All kids do that at some point.”  

“I don’t know,” he pinches the bridge of his nose, “I’m honestly at my witts end. This is her third warning and if she gets kicked out of school— I don’t know what I’ll do.” 

“From what I saw today, she’s a really good kid, Steve. I can’t imagine they’d do that.” 

“I’ve just been so busy, you know, sometimes I wonder if she acts out because of that– and it’s just me so I can’t–” he pauses, wiping his face, “God– I’m sorry, you’re… I’m just dumping all of this on you when you’re trying to leave.”

“No! It’s okay, I don’t mind, really.” 

“It’s– Well, it’s a lot and I,” he’s cut short by Penelope knocking on the glass, impatience strewn across her features. 

He throws up his pointer finger to tell her one second. “We can talk next week. You’ll be here Friday?” 

“Yep. I will see you then,” you nod, backing up a step so he can cross over to the driver’s side. 

“Okay, thanks again,” he says, opening his door. 

You wave goodbye, “Of course. Have fun kayaking!” 

“You too!” He yells, then mumbles, “Shit.” 

“Dad!” Penelope’s voice scolds. 

A warmth simmers in your chest as you walk away– a fizzy feeling that had been bottled up and crammed into a forgotten corner of your body. But as soon as you’re settling into the privacy of your car, it boils over into this rush of giddy exhilaration, electrifying every inch of your skin. Giggles cut through the silence as your smile stretches wider, completely untamable. There’s no stopping this, not when you’re already fantasizing about a next time with Steve.

[hotdilfs11]

Mafia Boss-Thomas Shelby x Reader pt4

Rest of the parts

✩summary: The Shelby knew this girl when she was very little. However, when her mother passed away (at 16) everything changed and everyone drifted away from each other. Now after seven years Veronica is a mafia boss in her fathers business. Her father sent her to Birmingham on business, will this play off well?

✩pairings:girl named Veronica(POC) x Thomas Shelby

✩warnings: none

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

The morning came early as I woke up in bed watching the sun leaked through my window. The morning air was crisp and fresh, and everything came into focus as I sat up from my bed and looked around the glib room. I started to remember what I have to do today, and the weight of frustration and stress started to fall on my back. I slowly crept out of bed, not wanting to do my task for today, but I knew I had to get it over with. My foot caressed the cold frigid floor as I started to step out of bed and to get dressed

1:50 PM

I was in my office going over some paperwork and some other tasks my father had assigned me for the week. I heard a roaring sound echo through the air as I looked down to realize it was my phone. I pick it up from the side of me and realize it's my father calling.

"Hello!" I say nonchalantly.

"Hey, dear, how was it with the peaky blinders?" he said tiredly on the phone. Then I remembered that the time is different in New York compared to here in Birmingham.

I glanced at my watch. "It's good I’m meeting them today at four o'clock; I’m about to leave in a minute."

"That's good, just give me an update about them every week. I don’t need anything going bad, and I know they're known for that." He was cautious about Peaky Blinders. I think he was actually concerned.

"Yes, I know, dad, I've got to go." I quickly hung up the phone with him. I forgot that half of the Peaky Blinders old businesses went to shit because they messed it up themselves. I honestly hope they know who they’re working for because if not, they're in for a ride.

I started to grab my things and put on my coat as I left my condo to ride to Birmingham for the first time in seven years. I felt like I wanted to throw up while the feeling of sadness overwhelmed me as I went into my hometown, remembering everything I loved and hated about it. All the good times and the bad times leading up to my mother's death

3:35 PM

I showed up at the garrison, and it looked like any other pub you'll ever see. It has a boxy shape with a mysterious jet-black exterior. On the top, it says "The Garrison Tavern" in yellow letters with a white outline.

"Madam," Dante says as he opens the door right in front of the garrison. I smile and say, "Thank you, Dante, and I only need one bodyguard today, not the other ones."

Dante was still holding the car door for me, waiting for me to get out of the car. I got out of the car and walked towards the pub, swinging the rustic door open. I walked through the door, taking in the smell of cigarettes and whiskey. However, I noticed how manly and vintage it looked, with a modern twist to it. I spotted Arthur working behind the counter, serving drinks to people. He quickly noticed me the second I walked in with Dante.

He looked at me. "Hey Ronnie," he said with a smile while serving drinks to a customer. He looked weirdly happy. I honestly thought he would be mad because of how I acted yesterday.

I started walking towards the bar, sitting on one of the hard and uncomfortable stools. "Hey Arthur, where are we all meeting again?".

"Uh..I think in Tommy's office maybe since it's quick," he said as he started pouring someone else a drink. "I think he's back there honest."

"Okay, thank you, dear," I say, getting up from the stool.

I walk towards Tommy's door, knocking on it softly. "Come in," he said with a husky voice.

The door knob creaked as I twisted it, opening the door and revealing Tommy behind his desk. I saw Polly and John sitting on two of the three chairs right in front of his desk.

"Come in, sit” ,Tommy demands.

I turned to Dante, who was hovering over me. "Stay out here, Dante; I’ll be okay," I told him. He stepped out of the room as I walked over to sit next to John.

I turn towards John and Polly. "Ok, before we start, I want to apologize for how I acted, but you guys have to understand who I am as a person in this moment of my life," I said softly.

John made eye contact with me as his eyes softened up. "It's okay, V, I understand," he said in a sincere voice. My eyes widened as those words fell out of John's mouth. I wasn't expecting him to actually say he understood; I didn’t think he would be understanding at all. I was expecting more from Polly to say something, but she just gave me a blank, angry stare. She looked so disappointed at how I tuned out to be this way while everyone else seemed a bit happy or just unbothered. I expected the boys to be mad, not Polly, and now this just made me very upset with myself, but I also had a resentment towards her.

"Ok, so what's your answer?" I say quickly, looking back at Tommy, trying not to fill my head with emotion.

"Yes, we’ll go into business with you; I already told Arthur." Tommy says quickly as he analyzed me. He glanced over my body, sending me a chill through my me.

"Ok, great, now there are things I’ll need from all of you and Arthur," I say with a sturdy voice.

I tell them I need all of their personal information, including emails, where they live, family and friends, and who they live with, as a safety measure. I ask this just in case something goes wrong in the company and I need to notify them and their families.

"I need all this in two days before I assign you things to do, understood?" I ordered making eye contact with everyone in the room. I looked around the room while everyone nodded at me, agreeing to everything I said.

"Okay, I’ll be back in two days," I said as I stood up to leave. A rush went through my body as Tommy said, "Miss Hawthorn, can I talk to you alone?” He teased me, hinting everyone out the room.

"Of course, Mr. Shelby," I say, being coy. I know he keeps calling me Miss Hawthorn because he’s flirting with me and he knows how much he affects me.

As everyone is leaving the room, Tommy stands up from his desk. I start to walk towards his desk, keeping a good distance away from him, knowing how I’ll react while I’m around him.

"You wanted to talk to me, Mr. Shelby?" I say it with a mean face, showing no emotions.

"Why are you acting like that, Miss Hawthorn?" he says as he starts inching towards me.

"I don’t know what you mean, Mr. Shelby," I said with a grin on my face, acting innocent.

Tommy starts inching towards me, and my heart starts to beat like a drum as he gets closer to me. I placed my hand on the desk, bracing myself and trying to control my emotions as I started to get even more nervous than I already was.

"So you're going to act like there's nothing between us anymore, eh?" He said it in a flirty but harsh tone.

He looked at my hands as he started to caress them in a back-and-forth motion, making me tense.

"um..I" I couldn’t make out my words as his strong, rough hands started to move up and down my bare arm. A chill flooded through my body as the butterflies in my stomach started to grow stronger and stronger. I felt his steel blue eyes taunting me as he started to inch closer and closer to me, feeling his warm body hovering over mine.

"So you feel nothing towards us?" He said while he dragged his hand down my arm while his hands started to wrap gently around my waist. My body starts to tremble, and my face starts to get hot as his hands start to grip my waist a little bit tighter by the second. I put my hands on Tommy's firm chest, trying not to give into his touch, even though I wanted to. My breath shuddered and my mouth went dry. "Tommy, you know I can’t answer that," I said softly as guilt started to rush over me. I want him so bad, and I’ve always wanted him, but I can't. I’m in this business, and I’ll always be professional, even if it hurts sometimes. His head tilted in confusion as I spat out those words. His eyes grew soft and desperate as he spoke. "Why not"

I slipped out. of Tommys arms, backing away from his desk and keeping a fair distance from him. "Because I can't, Tommy." He starts walking towards me as I tell him, "I’m leaving, Tommy."

I turned my back on Tommy, trying to walk out the door. As I’m walking away from him, I feel Tommy's strong hands wrap around me, spinning me around in a quick motion. Now I’m closer to him than ever, feeling his warm body against mine. My body is rigid with tension, and my breath starts to quicken. I looked into his icy yet puzzling eyes, as he had a cold expression on his face. "No, I want you to answer my question. Do you feel anything, Veronica?" He spoke in a forceful and deep voice.

Guilt took over my body as I tried to give him an answer, but I couldn't. All I could do was stare into his cold blue eyes, unable to speak. My face was flushed as we got lost in each other's eyes; my heart was racing, and my mouth went dry as I was overwhelmed with pleasure and desire as Tommy grabbed me a little bit tighter. My eyes couldn't help looking at his lips as I unconsciously leaned closer and closer, brushing my lips against his. My stomach started to do turns until I heard a loud knock at the door of Tommy's office. My head turned in a swift motion, looking endlessly at the door.

"Tommy, we gotta fucking go," John said in his deep accent as he walked away from the door.

I snapped out of whatever I was about to do, noticing how close I was to Tommy and how close I was to kissing him. I whispered "fuck" while I backed away from Tommy, thinking about what I was getting myself into. I wasn’t fucking thinking about my future, my father's future, or the future of the company.

I was stuck, frozen, and unable to walk. I didn’t know what to do or how to react. "I��" I took a long pause, trying to capture my thoughts. "I have to go," I said as I slowly turned around, facing the door, until my legs went stiff when I heard Tommy speak for one last time. "Ronnie I want you to come to a ball at my house in four days," he says as I start to turn around.

His voice grew deeper as he said. "I want you to be there, love."

My brows furrowed as I started to shake my head in frustration. "Tommy, I said—" He cuts me off in the middle of my sentence. He begins to walk up to me while he puts his blazer on. "I just want you to be there," he demanded, making heavy eye contact with me. "Fine," I say quickly. I turned my back on him as I started to walk out of his office.

[iguessigotta]

'nother desmon drabble. this was gonna be one part but i think i'm gonna make it at least a two-parter no warnings, aside from desmond's foul mouth

“How much longer are they gonna have me under surveillance?” Desmond said, stopping in the doorway to lean against the frame.

“What- w- ow-” a screwdriver and a few smaller pieces fell to the floor as Tony smacked the back of his head off the edge of his work table. He cursed quietly before standing, hand rubbing circles into the back of his head, “Who’s got who under surveillance?”

Desmond rolled his eyes, “You know what I’m talking about, jesus christ-”

“No taking the lord’s name in vain,” Tony interrupted with a barely-contained snicker.

The dramatic, frustrated sigh Desmond let out could have earned him awards, had there been awards for “acting like a teenager in your late 20’s”.

“Shield, dad,” he said, closing his eyes and taking intentional, slow breaths, “The absolutely fuckin massive military intelligence….branch…..thing.”

He deflated when he finally opened his eyes to see Tony stifling laughter, hand clamped over his mouth. He could tell Tony wanted to keep poking at him, and when the man in front of him tried speaking, moving his hand from his mouth,he had to clamp it back down as a fresh wave of laughter bubbled up. Desmond grimaced.

“W-wai- I’m sor-” Tony cut himself off but failed to stop a bark of laughter. He cleared his throat and tried again, “You were right, Des. That’s what they are - ‘the absolutely fuckin’ massive military intelligence branch thing’”

“You know what I mean,” Des grumbled with a roll of his eyes, “How much longer are they going to be stalking me?”

Turning to grab some things from his work table, Tony let out a long breath, beginning to idly clean something with a rag, “Few more months I think.”

“Months?!” Desmond near-shouted, “Why?”

“Why?” Tony paused cleaning whatever he was holding, “Desmond, you were brainwashed. By the scepter.”

Desmond, frustrated, refused to respond. That made Tony nervous, “You….do remember being  brainwashed by the scept-”

“Yes I remember being brainwashed by the scepter,” he said with a slight whine, dragging a hand through freshly-dyed hair. Before he could speak again, Tony cut him off.

“Well. That’s why you’re still under surveillance,” he looked at Des while gesturing to his own head, “You’ve got scrambled eggs for brains now or something. I don’t know, they never tell me anything - and why do you care so much? You never leave the compound so nothing should really have changed for you.”

“Thanks for confirming I’m being stalked.”

“Surveilled.”

“Whatever, oh my god.” 

Tony paused a moment, simply watching Desmond, before taking a breath, “All right, spit it out, kid. Who’s got you so antsy for freedom?”

“W-” Desmond sputtered, face screwing up in confusion, “The fuck makes you say who?”

“That!” Tony gestured towards Desmond with a wrench, continuing through laughter, “That look on your face! You’re so mad!”

“Gee, I wonder why,” Desmond rolled his eyes, turning to leave. If Tony was going to just sit here and make fun of him, then he’d go find help somewhere else, “Whatever, nevermind, I’ll go ask Buzz…”

There wasn’t a doubt in Tony’s mind that no matter what the request was, Buzz would be able to find a way to complete it. The last time Desmond asked Buzz for help tracking down a copy of a rare video game, Buzz had found and somehow gotten his hands on it within a week and a half. Which would have been all well and good if they hadn’t also created, sold, and then ran away with the money from some absurd crypto currency in order to pay for it. Ok, it was pretty funny. Buzz put so little effort into the currency, it was honestly kind of their fault for falling for it. Unfortunately, S.H.I.E.L.D. caught wind of it and saddled Tony with a mountain of paperwork. ‘Still better than the time he had them find Wade. Yeah, let’s not do that again…’

“Wait no - Des!” he shouted, a bit louder than intended, making Desmond jump slightly. Tony ran his hand down his face before continuing, “I’ll do it - what did you need?

[sillyrabbit81]

Ready for some Irish Sy updates?

We were over visiting earlier this year. Sy/“Steve” picked us up from the airport. He was waiting for us when we arrived wearing a very Sy-esque T-shirt and shorts. In my head he was wearing flip flops (thongs to Aussies?). Insisted on carrying every heavy bag he could grab from us.

He was so great with my kid. Made her laugh and made accommodations for her shyness but also talked to her like an equal. He gave her the important job of looking after the ticket for the car park. She sensed his authority and took the task very seriously.

Completely forgot to mention before that he’s trained to parachute jump solo. I think he might even be qualified to train other people to jump.

Currently works in the irish military police. Kind of hates it because it’s mainly boring paperwork and giving other people a hard time.

Has bought a plot of land to build a house near his parents and sisters

Is a local life boat team crew member

Has a retriever puppy that he’s done such a great job of training. I’ve never seen such a chilled out and obedient puppy. During our visit Steve was often sitting holding it like a baby (even though it was already pretty big at that point) and it would fall asleep in his arms.

I noticed he was wearing hot pink nail polish after a few of the smallest nieces asked him if he wanted some. It stayed on for the rest of the holiday as far as I can remember.

Right now he’s renting a house right on the lake. Has a sailing boat that he spent months fixing up, replacing the engine etc.

Took me, my husband, my sister in law and a whole gaggle of kids out on the boat. Gave the kids jobs to do and let them do bits of the sailing. They hung on his every word and took his safety instructions to heart. He’s so silly with them most of the time that when he’s serious they know he’s not kidding. He also treats them all with such respect that they don’t mind when he gives them instructions.

More to come.

☘️

Hi ☘️ Anon!

OMG This man... I don't even think I could write Sy this good.

He's like the perfect man for a domestic fanfic, so soft and sweet with a dash of girl dad, but still ticks all the best masculine qualities.

And yeah, us Aussies call "flip flops" thongs... Its made for some hilarious miscommunication online over the years.

Thanks so much for this update. I swear, some of this may end up as inspiration next time I write a one-shot for Sy.

❤️ Rabbit

[marvelobankspdrescue]

Title: Incident

Age: 13

TW: blood, car crash, let me know if I missed anything.

Requested: Yes,

Jay's pov

Time 3:30 A.M

I woke up drenched in sweat after having a nightmare. This is the first time it has happened in a while. When Caity was little, it happened every day, but I've found ways to cope with my ptsd. After I calmed down a bit, I got up and walked over to Caity's room. I peaked inside and made sure she was alright. Once I was sure she was safe, I walked back to my room and took a cold shower. I hopped out and looked at the time it was now 4:00. I walked down the hall to the kitchen and made me a cup of coffee, and started on some paperwork.

Time skip: 4:30

I have been working for a while now, and I am almost done with my paperwork, so I decided to wake up Caity, and while she was getting ready, I started on breakfast. I made breakfast burritos and called for Caity to come eat.

Caitlin's pov

Time 4:45

I woke up to someone shaking my shoulder, and I could faintly hear my name being called "Caitlin, Caitlin it's time to get up for school, baby." I opened my eyes and saw dad sitting beside me. I sat up and hugged him, and he kissed me on the head and said,"Get ready for school. While I go, make breakfast."Ok," I said before yawning. We both got up, and dad walked out to make breakfast, and I walked to my closet and got my clothes. I walked to the bathroom and got a quick shower, and changed into my clothes. I finished getting ready, grabbed all my stuff, then walked into the kitchen. We sat down to eat our breakfast burritos and had our usual morning conversation. "So do y'all have a case yet." No, not yet." So what are you doing," I'm done with all my paperwork so I will probably go on patrol if I do I probably won't be able to pick you up so you will have to walk," Ok I willwalkto the district after school." We finished eating and got in the car to go to school.

Time skip After School

I did my normal school routine, went to my first few classes, had lunch with Eva, and then went to my last few classes. I am now on my way to the district it's not that far from my school, so dad let's me walk sometimes as long as I have my phone. I know every way to get to the district along with my house, and dad is still teaching me how to get to Uncle Will's house. The first couple of weeks before he started letting me walk home from school alone, he would walk to my school from wherever he was originally. The first place he taught me was the short way to get to the district because that is where I normally go after school. He would walked from the district then when he picked me up we walked back and when he thought I had walked it enough to remember he let me lead the way with a little guidance till I figured it out. I'm about to cross the street, so I wait for the traffic to clear and then look both ways twice before crossing. When I get to the middle of the street, a red car comes speeding down the street and hits me. It threw me a couple of feet away as soon as I hit the ground. I gasped in the breath the car just knocked out of me. People are gathered around me, and I'm freaked out a couple of minutes later, I hear sirens.

Kelly's pov

We just got a call about a kid getting hit by a car and the car running into a fire hydrant, so we are headed to the scene. When we get there, Stella and Sylvie walk over to help the kid, and we go to see the damage on the car. Before I even get to the car, Stella is calling me over. When I get there, I see Caitlin trying to sit up. I'm quick to hold her down as I say, "No, no, no Caity, you don't need to move ok." She cries out a little and whimpers, "Hurts Kelly," "I know, but you need to stay still." Stella puts on a C-collor, and we strap her to the backboard. I helped load her into the back of the ambulance, and then I checked to see that they were all done with the car, so I hoped into the ambulance with Caity. I called Jay and told him what had happened.

Connor's pov

"Connor trauma bay 4." I hear Maggie yell, and I rush over."What have we got," I ask. "Caitlin Halstead 13 year old female. She was hit by a car on her way home from school. She is conscious and in a lot of pain." Stella says as we walk into trauma bay 4. Once we get her all set up on the new gurney, I start working on her. I go through all the normal steps and quickly realize she needs surgery, so I rush her into the OR, and we get prepped for surgery.

Jay's pov

Caitlin has been in surgery for two hours, and I still have not heard anything. Just as I'm about to begin my search for Will for the 20th time in the last hour, Connor walks out. I quickly stand and walk over, and he says, "She sustaned multiple fractures, internal injuries, and severe bruising. We had to do emergency surgery on internal injuries. But she is fine now and is resting. You are welcome to go see her." I follow him into the room Caitlin's in and she looks up at me and smiles, "Daddy," She whispered and opened her arms as much as she could without hurting herself and silently asked for a hug. I walked over and carefully wrapped my arms around her and hugged her. I gave her a kiss on the head and then sat in the chair beside her and held her hand, and she fell asleep with me following shortly after.

[sfb123]

Hello! 🤍

I couldn’t resist sending something from the prompts for Liam and Riley!

Person B lends their sweater to Person A. When Person A is home, they realize they still have Person B’s sweater and find Person B’s iPod. Out of curiosity, Person A looks through Person B’s music and finds a playlist titled with Person A’s name.

But absolutely no pressure! 🥰

Thank you so much for this ask! Sorry it took so long to get it out, I hope it was worth the wait. I did modify the ask just a little bit to fit my idea, but it's still basically the same thing.

You Are the Music in Me

Book: The Royal Romance

Pairing: Liam x Riley

Rating: G

Summary: With the Coronation Ball fast approaching, Liam is looking for a sign that Riley returns his affections. Meanwhile, Riley deals with the aftermath of the infamous actions of Tariq on the night of the country jamboree.

Word Count: 4,105

A/N: Thank you to @txemrn for pre-reading, and helping me work through the choppier parts.

Liam sat at the desk in his room, looking at some paperwork. He was trying to concentrate on the words in front of him, but his mind kept drifting to earlier in the day. It was the court’s last at Applewood, and he had just returned from the country jamboree. He and Riley had been able to sneak away and lose themselves in the hedge maze for an all too brief moment, and it was running through his mind on repeat. 

He smiled, remembering the feeling of her wrapped in his arms as they spoke about a life after the coronation. It took everything in him not to propose right then and there. She was his choice. A part of him always knew it, but he had only admitted it to himself a few weeks ago. Despite how he felt, he still needed to go through the proper channels. He was meeting with his father in the morning to submit his choice. It would then go through the approval process.

He knew it was Riley; he just hoped she felt the same. He knew she cared about him, but being with him came with so much baggage and responsibility. He hoped that she considered him to be worth all the trouble. 

A knock on the door pulled him from his thoughts. He stood from the desk and went to answer it. “Drake.” He smiled at his friend, signaling for him to enter. 

“Hey, just figured I’d swing by, see if you wanted to get some fresh air or something.” Drake shrugged. “I know you’ve got that meeting with your dad in the morning. Thought you might want to talk through it before being put in the hot seat. Or at least take your mind off it for a bit.”

“That sounds perfect.” Liam grabbed his jacket and the two made their way out of the estate and headed outside. 

They walked across the grounds in silence for several minutes. “You know, talking through it only works if you actually talk,” Drake finally spoke up. 

Liam smiled at his friend, but he used his practiced, diplomatic smile. Drake noticed. “Right. I don’t know, Drake. It all just came so fast. And with my father’s announcement, it puts even more pressure on me, and on the woman I choose.” 

“You mean, it puts more pressure on you and Brooks, right?” Liam looked at him, slightly confused. “Oh please, you know I see right through your impartial bull shit. It’s been her since the second you found out she was here.”

Liam ran his hand through his hair, taking a deep breath. “Yes, well she may be my choice, but she still needs to go through the approval of the court and my parents. Just because I want to be with her doesn’t make it a done deal. It’s not that easy when you’re days away from taking the throne.” 

Drake stopped walking and turned to face Liam. “Li, she’s been killing it. I know you’ve seen it.” Liam nodded in response. “She’s held her own with all of this stuff.  There’s no way they haven’t seen it too. Even Connie would have to admit that she’s proven herself here.” He placed a comforting hand on his friend’s shoulder. 

Liam’s eyes dropped to the ground, composing his thoughts before looking back up at Drake. “I love her, Drake.” 

Drake was taken off guard by the admission. It’s not like he was surprised; he saw the way Liam was around her, heard the way he talked about her. But he was struggling with his own thoughts and feelings about his best friend’s paramour, so he felt a twinge in his heart when he heard Liam say it out loud. 

“I know, man.” He closed his eyes for a moment, trying to keep his emotions at bay. “Does she love you too?” He braced himself for the answer. 

“I haven’t told her. I tried, at the falls. I’ve wanted to. I’m just, I don’t know…”

“You’re afraid she doesn’t feel that way about you.” Drake finished his thought, knowing that the same doubts had been running through his own mind since Lythikos. 

“Partly. But even more than that, I know that being with me comes with so much pressure and responsibility. She won’t just be giving herself to me; she would be giving herself to the crown. I would be locking her into a job that she has no training for, a job I don’t even know if she wants.” 

“But you’d be there to help her. She wouldn't be doing it on her own,” Drake assured him. “She came all the way out here for you. She knew who you were. Hell, she’s spent the last few weeks learning everything about this court and the expectations. She sat through countless training and etiquette lessons with Bertrand. She must love you if she’s still here after that.”

Liam laughed at Drake’s matter of fact approach to making him feel better. He felt so grateful for his best friend. “I suppose you have a point there.”

“Of course I do.” Drake clapped Liam on the back and the two continued walking, happy to change the subject. The more Liam talked about his feelings for Riley, the worse it made Drake feel about his own. 

They walked for a while longer, laughing and joking. Drake was telling Liam about some of the smaller moments during the social season that he didn’t get to be a part of. They came upon the estate staff cleaning up from the dinner that had been held there a few hours earlier.

Liam noticed a chair on the far end of the lawn with a sweater hanging off the back. He walked toward it and picked it up. “It’s Riley’s,” he told Drake. 

Drake already knew. He remembered how the color complimented her deep chestnut eyes, how he imagined tearing it off of her. He immediately shook off the thought, hoping to fix his expression before Liam noticed. “My room’s down the hall from hers. I can drop it by on my way back if you want,” he offered, grateful for any opportunity to see her. 

“That’s alright. I can drop it by in the morning before my meeting,” he smiled. Drake knew Liam was thinking the same thing, and what the Crown Prince wants, the Crown Prince gets. 

Drake shrugged. “Fine, just don’t do anything weird like sleeping with it or wearing it or something.” He punched Liam in the arm. They both laughed and continued on their way.

Eventually, the pair headed back inside. When they reached the top of the stairs, they said their goodnights. Liam turned to the right, headed toward the royal wing while Drake turned to the left and walked through the guest wing. 

As Drake got closer to his room, he heard a woman yelling from behind one of the closed doors. 

“Shit, that’s Brooks,” he said to himself. He turned to look behind him, but Liam was already out of sight. There was no time to go back for him. Drake would need to handle this on his own. He took a deep breath and barged through the unlocked door. 

***

Liam entered his room and moved to his desk. As he placed the sweater down, the scent of juniper and jasmine whafted in the air. He let out a content sigh, it was Riley’s scent. 

The muffled sounds of music got Liam’s attention. He looked around trying to find the source, when he realized it was coming from Riley’s sweater. He reached into the pocket, and found that she had also left her cell phone behind. He tapped on the screen, trying to pause the music. Instead, the phone unlocked and opened up to a page of her playlists. 

He scrolled through the carefully cultivated lists, each titled after different moods and genres. Every once and a while he would randomly open one and play a couple of songs, finding it interesting the way she had created soundtracks to her different emotions. Liam never thought of music in that way, but he loved that she did. His scrolling came to an immediate halt at the sight of one of the playlist titles:

💘 Liam 💘

She had a playlist named after him? And his name was bookended by hearts? He couldn’t help the smile that spread across his face.  

“She made a playlist for me,” he said to himself in awe. 

He scrolled a little further, checking to see if she had made one for anyone else. Surely she at least had some kind of dance mix with Maxwell’s name on it. Nothing. He was the only one. 

Liam took this as a sign. He had spent so much time worrying about her feelings for him, and he had the answer sitting in his hands. These songs would tell him everything he needed to know. 

He took a seat at his desk and reviewed the song titles. As he had assumed, he didn’t recognize many of the titles, or artists. There were a couple of names he remembers Maxwell mentioning, or playing for him. He tapped the first song with his index finger, and listened to the playlist from beginning to end. He kept his laptop nearby, occasionally pulling up song lyrics to make sure he fully understood the sentiment behind her selections. 

When the final song finished, Liam sat there staring straight ahead, feeling the slight sting of unshed tears in his eyes. They had all been love songs. The genres ranged from Disney princesses to heavy rock songs that included a lot of screaming. But they were screaming about love. 

“She loves me too,” he sighed. 

That playlist was the boost of confidence he needed to know, without a shadow of a doubt, that her name would be the one that he presented to his father in the morning. His official choice. 

Despite needing to be rested for his important day, Liam found himself unable to sleep. He tossed and turned, but all he could think about was Riley. Every time he closed his eyes, he saw her and his heart began to race. He would see flashes of the life they would share, flashes of their future. 

Realizing his attempts for a restful night were useless, he got out of bed and returned to his desk. Taking the phone in his hands, he started the playlist again, this time hitting the repeat button. As he listened, he imagined the two of them enjoying the songs together, dancing to the music that made her think of him. 

***

Liam was startled awake by a knock at the door. He sat up quickly, groaning in discomfort as his hand reached the back of his neck, rubbing to soothe the stiffness. 

“Your highness?” Bastien called from the other side of the door.

He had fallen asleep at his desk, listening to Riley’s playlist. He looked down at the phone and tapped the screen. It didn’t respond; he had worn out the battery listening on repeat. 

The knocking at the door became louder and more insistent. Liam checked his watch as he stood. He had overslept; he was already late to meet with his father. He rubbed the sleep from his eyes before opening the door. “Sorry Bas, I overslept.” 

“Your highness, you’re overdue…”

“I know, I know.” Liam interrupted him. “Can you buy me ten minutes? I just want to take a quick shower, then I’ll be right down.” 

“Of course, sir.” Bastien bowed before taking his leave.

“So much for seeing Riley before the meeting,” Liam grumbled as he made his way to the bathroom. 

***

Riley sat in the limo silently watching the scenery pass as Maxwell and Bertrand talked nonstop about their plans for the Beaumont bash. They were so excited; she was supposed to be too. She was going to have home field advantage. This was going to be her time to shine. Instead, her mind kept reeling with the events of the night before. 

Living in New York City, she had always tried to be hyper aware of her surroundings, of the people in her space. Her mother had warned her about people, especially men, that would try to prey on her simply because she was a woman alone in the city. Then she arrived in Cordonia, and somewhere along the way, she let her guard down Maybe because it felt like something out of a fairytale, she thought she would be safe. Or maybe it was because she was surrounded by nobility. 

Ha. Yeah, Tariq is real fucking noble. 

Drake had been infinitely more noble last night than Tariq could ever hope to be. He barged into that room and saved her from… from something she didn’t even want to think about. 

Then he had to go and say all that stuff to her. Feeling stuff. Very un-Drake like stuff. She felt awful having to let him down the way she did. She liked Drake, but only as a friend. She loved Liam; she was in love with Liam. She sighed deeply, how did this ‘fun adventure’ become so complicated so quickly? 

She reached for her purse, which sat at her feet. She would listen to music for the rest of the ride; that would make her feel better. She dug through her bag, checking every pocket, before starting to remove the contents and scatter them on the seat beside her. 

Maxwell noticed her frantic actions and slid closer. “Hey, are you okay Riley?” 

She looked up at her friend in a panic. “I don’t have my phone. I lost my phone!” 

“Hey, it’s okay.” He put his hand on her shoulder. “Are you sure it’s not in your suitcase?” 

“No, it definitely isn’t. Fuck.” Bertrand cleared his throat at the obscenity and her gaze snapped up to his. “Not the time, Bert.” She emphasized the nickname she knew he detested. “Damnit, I was in such a hurry to get out of that room… I just wanted to leave last night as far behind as possible. I must have left my phone there.” 

Maxwell’s brow furrowed. “What do you mean? What happened last night?” 

Riley froze. She, Drake, and Tariq were the only people that knew what happened in that room, and she wanted to keep it that way. She cleared her throat. “Nothing, just not a good night’s sleep. Max, can you call my phone for me? Maybe the staff picked it up when they were cleaning or something.” 

“Yeah, of course.” He pulled his phone out of his pocket and dialed Riley’s number. “Straight to voicemail.” He said sympathetically. 

“Shit, the battery must be dead. That also means I can’t track it to see its location.” Riley buried her face in her hands and began to cry. She had been holding herself together well after what had happened, but losing her phone was the last straw, causing her to plummet over the emotional edge.

Maxwell and Bertrand shared concerned looks. Bertrand opened his mouth to speak, but Maxwell shook his head quickly as wrapped his arms around her and pulled her close. “It’s okay Riley. We’re going to call the manor and have the staff look for it.” He looked up at his brother, who nodded in response, understanding the silent request Maxwell was making.

Bertrand pulled out his phone and called Applewood as Riley cried in Maxwell’s arms.

***

Despite being thirty minutes late, Liam’s meeting with Constantine went surprisingly well. He seemed to respond favorably to Liam’s choice, telling him he couldn’t think of anything that would get in the way of Riley’s approval as the next queen of Cordonia.

There was an extra spring in Liam’s step as he returned to his room. The only thing that could make this moment better was seeing her. His future fiance. He grabbed her sweater, placing the phone back in the pocket where he found it, and hurried to her room. 

He stood in front of her door and took a deep breath before raising his fist and knocking. No answer. He knocked again, this time he leaned in, trying to keep his voice down but wanting to be heard from the other side. “Lady Riley?” He pressed his ear to the door and was met with silence on the other end. 

His hand went to the doorknob, brows knitting in confusion when it turned easily.

Hmm… that should be locked. 

He entered the room tentatively and looked around. “Lady Riley?” He noticed that the bathroom door was open, and none of her belongings were anywhere to be found. He had missed her.

The next stop for the social season was Ramsford, so it made sense that the Beaumonts had gotten an early start. The rest of the court wasn’t due to arrive until the following day, but they would want to get there early to make sure that everything was in order. 

That also meant that it would just be the Beaumont brothers and Riley alone in the estate all night. No other members of the court, no press, no interruptions or distractions. Liam grinned as an idea began forming in his mind. He pulled his phone out of his pocket and selected a contact before lifting it to his ear. 

“Hello, Maxwell?”

***

Maxwell shooed Riley and Drake out of the kitchen and closed the door behind them. They had just finished creating the appetizers for the bash, and he had sent them to help Bertrand while he cleaned up in the kitchen. 

As soon as Maxwell was elbow deep in soapy water, he felt the vibration of his phone in his pocket. “Of course." He chuckled, pulling his hands from the water and drying them on a nearby cloth. Retrieving his phone from his pocket, he swiped across the screen to answer the call. He quickly tapped the speakerphone button before placing the phone on the counter beside him. 

“It’s Maxi Staxx, holla atcha boy,” he answered jovially. 

“Hello, Maxwell?” 

“Oh hey, Liam! What’s up?”

“I, uh… I found Lady Riley’s sweater and phone last night. I just went to return it to her, but I take it she’s with you in Ramsford?”

“You bet! We’re in full party prep mode.” Maxwell wiped his hands on his pants to dry them further before taking the phone off speaker and lifting it to his ear. “I’m so glad you have it. She got really upset this morning when she couldn’t find it.”

“She did?” 

“Yeah, she cried most of the way here. I told her we’d find it. Leave it to her Prince Charming to save the day!” 

“Yes, well I was hoping to use this as an excuse to come by tonight before the rest of the court gets there. I want to do something special for her. But I’m going to need your help.” 

“You name it!”

***

After a successful day of preparations, Riley, Maxwell, and Bertrand retired to the sitting room to relax for the evening. They were soon interrupted by the chime of the doorbell. 

Riley looked at Maxwell in confusion as Bertrand stepped out of the room to answer the door. Maxwell smiled widely back at her. 

“Why are you smiling like that?” She asked. 

Maxwell shrugged in response. She eyed him suspiciously, opening her mouth to speak, but she froze when she heard Liam’s voice. She closed it and looked back to Maxwell. “Did you…”

“I didn’t do a thing.” He winked as Bertrand and Liam approached them. 

“If you’ll excuse us, my brother and I will check that your room accommodations are in order. In the meantime, I’m sure Lady Riley here will entertain you,” Bertrand said, giving Maxwell a knowing glance. 

“I’m sure she will,” Liam spoke to Bertrand, but his eyes never left Riley’s face. His heart began racing at the sight of her, knowing that they were one step closer to starting their life together. 

Maxwell and Bertrand hurried out of the room, leaving Liam and Riley alone. Riley stood to greet Liam, smiling softly as the emotions of the last few hours started to melt away.  

“Hey, you’re here early,” she said. She wanted nothing more than to run into his arms at that moment, but she stayed rooted in place, unsure if it would be appropriate or not. 

“Yes, well, I am here on a bit of business.” He maintained an official tone, hoping to catch her off guard with his surprise. 

Riley looked down at her feet, a little disappointed. She thought he had come early to spend time with her. “Oh, right. Well, I’ll let you get to it then.” 

Liam smirked, knowing that his plan was working so far. He stepped closer to her, holding the sweater behind his back in one hand, he slid the index finger of the other under her chin and lifted her face to meet his. “I found this on the grounds last night when I was out for a walk. I wanted to return it to its rightful owner.” He pulled the sweater out and held it in front of him. “I do believe the tradition is a glass slipper, but I suppose the story was up for a bit of modernization,” he said with a wink. 

“You found my sweater,” she said as she reached out for it. Once she had it in her hands, her eyes went wide at the unusual heft and reached into the pocket. “Oh my god, my phone!” She sighed in relief. “I thought I had lost it!”

“I believe technically, you did. I just happened to find it for you.”

“Thank you, thank you, thank you!” She ran into his arms and pulled him into a tight hug. “I owe you big time for this.” 

Liam placed a kiss on the top of her head. “You owe me nothing.”

She leaned back, looking up at him with a determined expression. “No, I do.” 

Liam smiled softly, cupping her cheek in his hand. “Riley, trust me, it is I that owes you, which is the other reason I’m here.” 

She looked at him curiously. “What do you mean?”

“I know all of this must seem strange to you… jet-setting around Cordonia, attending grand formal events. I imagine it’s much different from dating as you usually know it in New York.”

“Sure, a little. But it hasn’t been too bad.” She shrugged. 

Liam smiled at her nonchalance; it was one of the things he loved about her. She had completely turned her world upside down, and she was acting like it was no big deal. “I appreciate that you’ve thrown yourself into courtly life with such enthusiasm, but I wanted to… meet you halfway, so to speak.” 

“Liam, you really don’t have…”

“I had this idea…” He interrupted her protest, “it’s maybe a little silly, but… will you go on a date with me?”

***

“Bertrand, are you… eavesdropping?” Maxwell came up behind his brother, startling him. 

“I am not eavesdropping.” Bertrand stood up straight, tugging at the hem of his sweater vest. “I’m simply making sure that Lady Riley is maintaining propriety.” 

“Mmhmm… sure. Well if you want to make yourself useful, come help me cook.” 

“Excuse me?” Bertrand asked, hands on his hips. 

“It’s for Liam. He called me earlier to set the whole thing up. He came here to take Riley on a date. Since he can’t actually take her out, he asked me to set one up for them here. I have to make pasta for them.”

“This is a very good sign. We have to make sure this evening goes off without a hitch. Maxwell, get into the kitchen and start cooking. I will go to the wine cellar and get our finest bottle.” Maxwell stood there taking in Bertrand’s panicked demenior. “Don’t just stand there, Maxwell, get to work!” Bertrand commanded as he stormed off. 

A few minutes later, Maxwell was in the kitchen adding noodles to the boiling water when Liam entered and clapped him on the back. “How’s it looking, Maxwell?” 

“So far, so good! Bertrand is downstairs picking out wine for you guys.” 

“Excellent. I really appreciate your help with all of this.” Liam lifted the lid on the saucepan, inhaling the aroma of the sauce that was simmering. “Maxwell, I have a great feeling about tonight. It’s the beginning of everything. Soon, there won’t be anyone or anything standing in our way, and I will be able to tell the whole world how much I love Riley Brooks.” 

Permatag:

@3pawandme @busywoman @charlotteg234 @choiceskatie @cordonia-gothqueen @cordoniaqueensworld @emkay512 @foreverethereal123 @gryffindordaughterofathena @hopelessromanticmonie @iaminlovewithtrr @i-am-only-here-for-sims-cc @kat-tia801 @khoicesbyk @kingliam2019 @mom2000aggie @neotericthemis @nestledonthaveone @nikirennie87 @princessleac1 @queen-arabella-of-cordonia @secretaryunpaid @sincerelyella @theroyalheirshadowhunter @tessa-liam @twinkleallnight @txemrn 

TRR:

@21-wishes @ao719 @belencha77 @burnsoslow @lovingchoices14 @ofpixelsandscribbles @queenrileyrose @the0afnan @tinkie1973

Liam:

@amandablink @cordonianprincess @custaroonie @jared2612 @xpandass420x @yourmajesty09 @zaffrenotes

[mr-and-mr-diaz]

So I was thinking about the upcoming season 6 disaster, the way Eddie would react to seeing kids in danger, the way Buck would react, and this buddie egg hatched in my brain and demanded to be written. Enjoy!

Eddie doesn’t want to move.

The stadium had been filled with father’s and sons, not at all realizing that they were on their last day out together. It was all Eddie could do to get through the day, to the not imagine the worst. And now he’s home, in Chris’ room and it’s over. Eddie curls Christopher closer to him, closes his eyes, breathes him in.

It could have been them.

He remembers what it felt like when he’d left the scene of Mitchel’s death. He’d only had one thing on his mind: get home and hold onto his son.

Someone knocks at the door, but it’s not important, they can come back later. Eddie stays where he is, watching Christopher’s chest rise and fall in his sleep.

The knock sounds again, two more times, before tapering off. Good. They’ll come back later.

Eddie spends the next half hour just gazing at Christopher before his eyes threaten to close. As much as he would love to stay here, he hasn’t been home in two days with the blimp emergency, and there are things he needs to take care of before getting some sleep. He gives Chris one more squeeze before reluctantly hauling himself up and out of the room, aiming for the laundry room. That first. Then kitchen, cooking--a new addition to his routine, and one that he now enjoys--then paperwork, then sleep. 

Once the washing machine is sloshing around a week’s worth of darks, he heads to the sink, distracted for a moment by the door. Who had it been? Was it the mail? Eddie reroutes to the door and looks out the peephole. There’s no one there; shocker, after such a long wait. But if there is a package...

He reaches for the knob and pulls it open. 

He looks down and sees an arm on the ground, extending from a body slumped against the wall to the right of his doorway. 

Buck.

Buck is fast asleep, leaning against the brick wall outside Eddie’s apartment, empty-handed except his phone, which has all but fallen out of his fingers. 

“Buck?” No response. And no wonder, Buck had been working as hard as Eddie had the last two days. Why didn’t he let himself in with the key...?

Eddie reaches for Buck’s shoulder and gives it a shake. “Buck?”

“Nguh,” Buck mumbles, his eyes blearily peeling open. “Mm...? Eddie.” His eyes suddenly widen and he sits bolt upright. “Eddie--Chris! Can I...!” He trails off, face reddening with embarrassment. “Sorry, sorry you’re probably exhausted. I swear I was going home, I just had to sit for a second and--”

“Come inside, Buck.” Eddie reaches out a hand, pulling Buck to his feet. Buck, still trying to shrink in on himself, reluctantly follows him inside. “Where’s your key?”

“I forgot it--everything’s at the station, I just called an Uber on my phone because I was there at the stadium, and I saw all those dads and their kids, and they would never... and thought, I just, I need to see Chris, like when Mitchel--but I didn’t bother you then, and I’m sorry I’m bothering you now, but I couldn’t--” Buck chokes off his own words, turning away from Eddie and looking at the fridge. “Sorry, this makes no sense; you’re tired, and you should go to sleep, I don’t know what I was doing, I’m sorry--”

“Buck, stop.”

Buck hangs his head, mumbles, “Sorry,” shoulders slumping, shrinking down again, and Eddie just wants to shake him until every self-nullifying thing he’d ever been taught as a kid just falls out of him.

But Buck wouldn’t understand that, would keep blaming himself, feeling stupid, so instead Eddie puts a firm, warm hand on his shoulder and turns Buck to face him. “You have nothing to be sorry for, Buck. I should’ve offered you to come home with me--”

“It’s okay, Eddie, I know I’m not--he’s not... I do, I understand, I just sometimes feel like--” Buck cuts himself off again. “I should go home, let you sleep--”

“Come on, Buck.” Eddie lets go of Buck’s shoulder and grabs his hand, pulling him away from the kitchen counter Buck had been trying to merge into. 

“Eddie?”

“Just come.”

Buck follows behind Eddie, all silent questions. Eddie takes him out of the kitchen to Christopher’s room, opens the door, and gently pushes Buck into the room ahead of him. “Go on.”

“Eddie.” This time whispered, as Buck’s voice sounds indecisive, but then he turns and his whole body freezes in place, his eyes glued to Christopher’s sleeping form. 

“...He’s okay.” Buck’s voice breaks, and a piece of Eddie’s heart crumbles with it. 

“Yup. Exactly how we left him.” Eddie can’t keep the smile out of his voice now. He takes a step forward, can’t stop himself from wrapping an arm around Buck’s waist and bringing them both right to the foot of Chris’ bed. 

“I mean, it make sense, of course he is, he wasn’t there, wasn’t... He wasn’t there, Eddie. He was at the pier at the tsunami, but he was home this time, he was safe, I didn’t--” Buck’s voice breaks off again, and he breathes in through his nose. Eddie’s arm wraps tighter around him.

“Even if he was there, we would’ve got him, right?” He whispers. “Just like you did in the tsunami, Evan. But you wouldn’t have been alone this time. You know that, right?”

Buck just breathes. Leans into Eddie’s solid form, looks down at Christopher, and breathes.

[lollypopsx]

Hi! Hope you’re having a good day🥰 I don't know if you want to write this, but I have an idea. Charleigh is 18 and once forgets the condom during sex and doesn't remember it until her period is late. The fact that the symptoms of menstruation and pregnancy can be very similar makes her very nervous and she decides to talk to Harry about the incident. After the two of them wait for several stressful days, she gets her period, but they have a conversation with Harry about the importance of protection during sex.

Drabble Request

Drabble Masterlist

A/N: I loved this request and I love you!

I've used Asa Butterfield as Charleigh's boyfriend, but in my world, he's only 1/2 years older than her!

——————

Today was not a good day.

“Char? That you?” Harry calls from the living room as he closes his laptop, hearing the front door shut and Charleigh’s bag being chucked on the table. He frowned softly, usually her cheery voice would be ringing down the hallway by now. “Char? Are you okay honey?”

“Oh god Dad will you just stop?! Stop breathing down my neck every five minutes! I’m fine! Everything Is fucking fine!” She snaps loudly, clearly extremely agitated.

“Hey...Charleigh, calm down...has something happened with you and Asa?” He frowns. It was very rare she was acting this way.

She sighs deeply. “No. Nothing has happened. Just leave me alone” She mutters, grabbing her bag and storming up the stairs to her bedroom. She took a deep breath in and rested the back of her head against the door. She was completely and utterly in the shit.

Her and Asa had known each other for years, but decided to make their relationship official once she was back in London after tour was over and he had wrapped up filming. They now had some time together before Asa was set to start the filming of Sex Education Season 4, and Charleigh had time to settle back into her own work while being in the comfort of their London home.

Harry let her calm down upstairs, while making some dinner, saving hers for when she felt like eating it, and headed up to his office to sort some of the Pleasing designs.

Charleigh sat in her bathroom, staring at herself in the mirror. How could she be so stupid?! She couldn’t believe it. Two weeks ago, while her and Asa were in bed together, they realised they had run out of condoms, but Charleigh promised she would take the morning after pill. And did she forget? Yes. When Asa asked her a week later if she had taken it, did she panic and tell him she had? Also yes. And was she now panicking because her period was seven days late? Abso-fucking-lutely.

She had always been as regular as clockwork, every fourth Wednesday, just before she was ready to shower and get into her pjs for the Soaps.

So this was definitely out of the ordinary for her! She was scared to tell Asa, what if he left her? There was a possibility she was pregnant with his baby, and she had lied to him in a panicked state about taking the morning after pill.

Although...condoms weren’t always 100% effective...so perhaps it wasn’t from that time. Or maybe she could tell Asa that anyway? No. She couldn’t do that. It was so wrong of her to lie, Harry hadn’t brought her up that way and Asa most certainly didn’t deserve that.

Maybe she should wait to tell Asa, she didn’t want to panic him unnecessarily. But she also didn’t want to go through this on her own.

There was only one other person she could go to that she knew what help her. God, what if he was mad too?! This was her fault! Her hands were sweating and her face felt hot, her heart pounding in her head. She was 18. How the hell was she going to raise a baby when she was still a baby herself?! And if Asa left, she’d be raising it all alone.

One step at a time Charleigh.

She left her room quickly, holding back her tears and trying to hide her terrified eyes as she knocked on the office door quietly. As she opened the door slowly, Harry was sat hunched over paperwork, with a little clip in his hair and his reading glasses perched on his nose.

“Char? You alright lovie? There’s dinner downstairs on the-” He glanced up with a frown, seeing her biting at her jumper sleeve and the tears threatening to spill from her eyes. She looked scared...and in that second he knew something was wrong. Really wrong.

“Cherry, what’s wrong?!” He pushed himself up from his desk instantly and rushed to her, his arms tight around her shoulders and his hand on her head. Hearing her sobs escape her mouth and release into his t-shirt. “Hey, talk t’me honey” He whispers sadly.

“Dad I’m in so much trouble...” She sobs. “My period is a week late” Her hands were shaking as she held onto her Dad’s shirt, her breath hiccupping in her throat and her veins flooding with pure panic. Harry closes his eyes and takes a deep breath, squeezing her tighter in his arms.  “Dad we were being safe I swear, but o-one time we...we forgot and I-I said I would take the morning after pill and I-I forgot...” She chokes out rapidly.

“It’s alright...it’s all going to be okay...just need to breath...hey...breath for me” He whispers, stroking her hair gently as her tears began to slowly calm down. “When did this happen...” He asks calmly.

“T-two weeks ago. And I panicked and t-told Asa that I took it when I’d forgotten. I lied to him” She whimpers sadly, chewing on her sleeve again and staring up at Harry with a frightened look. “I-I’m sorry Dad...I’m so sorry”

“Come on, let’s go downstairs, get you some tea and calm down, and I’ll be back in a second” He sighs softly, rubbing her back as he leads her downstairs.

“Dad where are you going?” She whimpers, sniffling. “P-please don’t be mad at me. I’m sorry” She pleads, feeling the tears flood her eyes again.

“Hey, I’m not mad...these things happen okay? I’ll be 15 minutes, and we can talk about this when I’m back alright?” He frowns, leaning down and pressing a gentle kiss to her forehead before silently making her some tea and leaving out the door.

Charleigh sat there clutching the mug tightly and leaning her head back on the sofa. He mind filling with the millions of possibilities that could happen.

True to his word, Harry came back in 15 minutes later. “Char, I’d be a hypocrite if I got mad at you, but there’s nothing we can do until we know. They do early detection tests so...do this first, and we will go from there okay?” He hands her a box with a pregnancy test in.

“Y-you just went out to get these?” She sniffles softly, taking them from him slowly.

“Yeah...I did” He whispers. “Whatever happens...there’s many options, and I’ll be here every step of the way...” He reminds her, wiping a tear from her cheek gently as she gives him a silent smile and nervously heads into the bathroom.

This was it. This could potentially change so much.

She was so nervous to take the test, and she had never taken one before, so she read the instructions at least four times before she finally took it. She placed the cap on the test and walked out of the bathroom.

Harry sat on the sofa, his elbows on his knees and his head in his hands. His head shot up nervously as she came out of the bathroom. “So...?” He gulps softly.

“I-I’m too scared to look” She mutters shyly. Without hesitation, Harry holds his hand out to take the test from her. Her shaking hands placed it into his as she sat beside him.

“It’s not ready yet...” He whispers. Wrapping his arm around her and rubbing her shoulder calmly.

“Do you think I should tell Asa?” She whispers.

“Yes Char” He nods softly. “It’s best to tell him the truth, in case he finds out from someone else. He’s a good lad, and he really does like you Char, I’m sure he will understand” He mumbles softly, kissing her head.

“What if I am?...” She whispers, almost silently.

“What do you want to do?”

“I-I...I don’t know. I’m not ready yet. I mean maybe one day but I...not yet. Does that...make me a bad person?” She mutters, resting her cheek on his shoulder.

“Never a bad person, Angel. It’s your body, your choice. And whatever you decide, I’ll be here.” He whispers. “Ready to take a look?” She nods quietly, covering her face with her hands and holding her breath nervously, feeling sick to her stomach.

Harry glances down, letting out a breath. “You’re okay...it’s negative” He whispers.

Charleigh lets out a breath she never realised she was holding, her eyes shooting up as she takes the test from him. “Oh thank god...” She mutters in relief. “Shit...” She groans.

Harry held her close to his side. Deep down, he was just a relieved, he would never have been angry, but he wanted Char to go and live her life first, he wanted her to have a family when she was ready.

Of course, Harry had never ever had regrets over having Charleigh at 17. But that didn’t mean it was easy. He loved his life with her in it, but there was still so much he never experienced at that age. He didn’t want Charleigh to feel like she had to miss out on more of her life, especially when her life was already so out of the ordinary. So he was relieved for her, and maybe this would just be a realisation for her.

“Charleigh, I won’t lie and say I’m a little relieved...but I just want you to think about you and Asa. You have to tell him about this and maybe it would be best to look into some...other types of contraception. Not just condoms. Because even they aren’t reliable...how do you think you were made” He nudges her, dropping in the light hearted joke in the serious conversation, just to lighten to mood.

“Dad!” She chuckles softly with a groan.

“But really darling, there’s so many other options...”

“Well what do you think would be best?” She interrupts.

“I...I mean that’s more of a personal preference. There’s many different pills people can take, but I think they have more side affects. And if you forget sometimes...you still run a risk. There’s an implant they can put in your arm...or there’s the coil...that one goes in you...I mean those may be more reliable, and you can get them out whenever...maybe speak to Y/N about it, I’m sure she’s much more useful than I am” He chuckles softly.

“I just want you to be careful Char. You know, I loved having you around at 17, but it was never easy. And you and Asa, you still have so much more to go through.” She nods softly in agreement.

“I understand...thank you Dad...I’m sorry you got dragged into this.” She mumbles softly, cuddling into her side.

“I’m your Dad. It’s my job Cherry” He whispers, kissing her head softly. “Now, go and speak to Asa. Tell him the truth. Okay?” He gives her a gentle smile as she nods, heading up to her room to get her phone.

——————

Tag List: @harryhoney-bee - @sunandherflores -  @beachwood-cafe - @damnasstyles - @awesomebooklover17 - @hazgoldenstyles - @evanjh - @harrysbracelet - @nerdypartytrashpsychic - @harryssweatcreaturee - @hibaiqbal12 - @ayeshathestyles - @michellekstyles - @rach2602 - @randomwriter1021 - @elizabethrosecresswell - @izziestyles - @pracsstyles

[kpop---scenarios]

Poisonous Lies (1)

Pairing: Taeyong x Reader x Jeno

Warning: Violence, Smut, Obsession, Language, etc

Word Count: 2.3k

“YN.” your mom calls out, bringing you out of your deep sleep that you were very much enjoying. You fold your pillow over your ears as she continues to yell your name, the shrieking sound of her voice coming closer and closer with every call. You feel your blanket being ripped off your body as your mom spits curses at you. 22 years old and you still live with your mother, this life was sad, although it wasn't your fault, you decided on your own to stay home and help your mom out after your dad was sentenced to 10 years in prison for tax fraud, and tax evasion. It wasn't his finest moment, he was trying to help his family. Your father was a man who would do anything for his family to protect them, and that’s exactly what he did and now he was suffering the consequences of his own actions. 

“I swear to god, YN.” your mom yells. “If you don't get your ass up in the next 30 seconds, i'm going to lose my mind. Your train leaves in 45 minutes and if you dont get ready and leave in 10 then you're not going to be able to see your dad. It’s his birthday, remember. “ she says. Shit. you definitely had forgotten that it was today. You quickly bolt up in bed, scrambling to get up and out of your bed. You were rushing around your room grabbing whatever looked the cleanest on your floor before heading to your bathroom, slamming the door in the process. Your mom sighs loudly before she leaves your room, leaving you to finish getting ready. You knew it was hard for her, not having your dad around, especially since she wasn't able to go on the visit today, she couldn't get the time off. It had really only been 2 years since he’s been in there and you, her and your brother had faced some very hard times, and have been barely surviving the bills, mortgage, loans and whatever else. Your mom was working 2 jobs, you and your brother both working one, and all your money went towards the house bills, rarely leaving you much left over but the three of you made it work, you always figured it out. 

As you run down the stairs, you’re putting your hair into a messy bun, forfeiting any makeup today, it's not like you were trying to impress anyone anyways. “You ready?” your mom asks, car keys in her hand. 

“Yeah, just let me grab my bag.” you huff. You run into the kitchen, snatching your purse from the counter before you head back to the front door, which is wide open. You roll your eyes heading out the door, closing it behind you before sliding into the passenger seat of the SUV that you all shared. Your mom didn’t say a word to you on the ride to the train station. You clutched your train ticket in your hand as she pulled in front of the station. “Please tell him happy birthday from me and that I love him.” she whispers as you are getting out of the car. You give her a half smile before nodding your head.

“Don't worry mom, I will. And he knows.” you say before shutting the door and running inside. It didn't take you long to navigate your way through the station, you’ve been making this trip a few times a month, going to see him as much as you could. You picked a seat, setting your bag down beside you. You just made it on time, seconds later you were on your way and you couldn't wait to see your dad. 

Standing in line, you were waiting to have your bag checked and to go through the xray machine. When that was all clear you headed to the front desk, showing your ID and filling out paperwork before you could even go into the room and wait for him. It always took longer than expected, especially when they find out the person in front of you was trying to smuggle some drugs in her cooch, and then she bursts into tears as they take her away. You never could understand why anyone would ever try, they usually always catch it. You're risking your freedom for some dude. It's never worth it in your opinion. 

“LN, YN.” you hear your name is called. “You can head in now.” the guard finishes, nodding towards the visitation room. The door buzzes open and you see him immediately, sitting in the back, in the middle of the room. His fingers were locked together with his head down. It felt like it had been forever since you had last seen him. “Dad.” you sniffle and his head darts up, the smile spreads across his face so quickly as he stands up from his chair. You walk towards him, his arms are spread wide, waiting to embrace you. You crash into his chest, wrapping your arms around him as he does you, holding you tightly. You missed his hugs, and the safeness you felt from him. You both let go, tears brimming in your eyes as you both sit down across from each other. 

“Happy birthday dad.” you smile. He reaches out to grab your hand, whispering a small thank you while his head hung low. “Mom also wishes you a happy, and she says that she loves you.” You tell him, but you knew he already knew that. 

“I know.” he smiles. “Im assuming that she had to work today?” he asks. You nod your head. 

“She tried to get the time off but you know Dave, he’s a dick and wouldnt even let her have the morning off.” you tell him. But again, you knew he already knew that. Dave and your dad had been friends for years, but after your dad was sentenced the man acted as if he never knew him and was never friends with him. Your eyes wander around the room, as if anything would be different since the last time you were here. You looked out into the common room, you were just scanning the room when your eyes were met with someone elses. A man, a very handsome man staring directly at you, smiling. You tried to contain your blush and your smile but it was hard too. You had never seen anyone that looked like him before and you didn’t know what to do. You’re brought out of your trance by your dad clearing his throat before continuing on with the conversation. 

“Tell me, what’s going on with you? How is your brother?” he asks. But before you can answer the lights of the prison flicker, the alarm blares as the red siren lights up the room on beat with the alarms. 

“What’s happening?” you ask, panicked but before your dad can say anything you both look over at the large commotion happening in the common room, which was only separated from the visiting room by one large door. You looked around, seeing the other visitors watching what was happening but no one was fully reacting to anything. 

“Im sure the guards will get it sorted, these things happen sometimes. No need to worry.” your dad tells you, trying to reasure you. 

You couldnt help but worry. You watched as fights were breaking out between prisoners, prisoners and guards, and as you watched in horror, the prisoners were seemingly taking the guards down a lot more easily then they should have been able too. Your eyes were darting to every window that you could see and watched a guard after guard collapsed, inmates taking their guns or batons, a cluster of inmates slamming guards into the windows, shaking the what is supposed to be bullet proof glass. Seconds later a fight in the visiting room breaks out after an inmate bashes a guards head aginst the table. Youre panicked, other visitors are screaming, leaving their tables, some pounding on the door, begging the other guards to open it so they can escape. People were rightfully panicking as inmates from the common rooms began trying to shoot the windows to break them, or pry open the doors into the visiting room. The doors were now buzzed open letting the guards from the front now rush in from one side and unfortunately letting the inmates rush through the other doors into the room where you and your dad were. He had taken you to the corner of the room as you both watched blood and tears being spilled, the sounds of cries and plea's being yelled out as the inmates attacked anyone in their way, including those who were just visiting their loved ones. You can feel your heart pounding so loud in your ears you feel weak, like you might faint. Your stomach is churning at the sight of blood. Your father takes you by the hand pulling you with him through another open door, but as soon as the two of you make it into another room he’s smashed in the head by another inmate who is refusing to let up on him, continually beating on him. 

“Please stop!” you cry 

“Sup, mama.” you hear from behind you. You turn around, seeing a terrifying looking man walking through the doorway, moving slowly towards you. The man hitting your dad is satisfied with his work and finishes before standing up and smiling at you, both of them slowly walking towards you. You turn your head looking both ways, there's only one other door besides the one you came through and you're pretty sure it's locked. You keep backing up, you know you have nowhere to go. You back up until you're pinned against the wall, fear jolting through your body as you try and think of anything you could possibly say or do to get yourself out of this situation but you know that there is nothing you can do, except try and fight. 

“What do you want?” you ask, your voice is shaking. Both men chuckle. 

"You, mama." The one man smiles. He raises his hand as he gets closer to you, his finger trailing down your face. You squeeze your eyes shut, tears rolling down your cheeks and you let out a scream, as loud as you could. You switched between yelling "help me." And screaming, hoping someone would come for you. 

The man slaps his hand over your mouth. He looks pissed. "Why would you do that mama, don't you like me?" He asks. "It's been a long fucking time since we've had some good pussy." He chuckles in your ear. You can feel his body pressing against you. You try to focus on anything else, but all you can hear is the sound of him breathing and the screams and cries of the ones caught up in the riot. 

Suddenly you feel a release. You can no longer feel his body pressing against you, you can hear yelling much closer. You open your eyes and see a blonde haired man, and a familiar sandy brown haired man pulling the two men away from you. Within seconds the men who wanted to attack you were down on the floor, and the two men who saved you grabbed your hands, pulling you out of the room and away from the chaos, as well as away from your badly injured father. 

The three of you are running down a hallway, the alarm is still blaring, you can hear police sirens from outside. Neither one of the inmates who saved you are sure of where to go, everywhere you look there are inmates killing each other, inmates with guns and weapons, minimal guards around. 

"Hey!" You hear from down the hall. You all turn around and see the man who was pressing himself against you. "She's not fucking yours. I had my eye on her, and I want her." He yells. 

The two pull you in a random direction, knowing they need to get you away from him and protect you. After turning corner after corner, one of them opened a door, quickly pulling you inside before slamming it shut. Your body is shaking, your crying heavily. You never expected today to turn out how it did. 

The sandy brown haired one begins grabbing whatever heavy thing he can find and piling it against the door, while the blonde one cradles you in his arms, rubbing your back as you cry. 

"I'm sorry." You whisper. 

"Nothing to apologize for." He whispers. You can hear the smile in his voice. "What's your name?" He asks. 

"Y/N." You sniffle. 

"Beautiful name." The brown haired one says. "I'm Jeno." He finishes introducing himself. He continues to look at you, studying your face, like he knew you. 

"And I'm Taeyong." The man who has his arms wrapped around you says. You look up at him, his beautiful eyes looks back at yours. 

You knew you were fucked up, and you had issues when it came to men. And one of your issues was seemingly falling for the ones who save and protect you. You didn't even know Taeyong, and yet you were immediately attracted to him, at this moment, you didn't even care that he was in prison or what he did. 

You wanted him. 

"Are you okay?" Taeyong asks looking at you still, as Jeno is busy securing the door. 

"Yeah.. I just.." you pause. You lift your head and press your lips to his. He pulls away for a second, looking at you shocked. You immediately feel embarrassed and go to cover your face bar Taeyong doesn't let you. He moves your hands away, placing his hand around the back of your neck before he leans in, crashing his lips to yours. 

In the moment, you didn't think about what possible consequences could come from this, all you knew was you wanted him, and you didn't care that you were going to fuck an inmate.

[peakyblindersxx]

whiskey business - john x reader (part 3 of ?)

gif by @michaelgreys but i cropped it cause god daMn 👀

read part one and two! | my masterlist

a/n: this one goes out to all my john bitches!! i know it's hard out here, we get no new content but this part is steamy as hell. its not over yet, though! i'm a sucker for happy endings, ok? i hope you all like it, i'm still working on requests as i go :) much love to @stxdyblr-2k for ghostwriting on this series, she has the most amazing ideas in the world 🖤

love, abi xxx

tagging: @datewithgianni

prompt: john's been ignoring you and you want to know why.

warnings: fluff, angst, nsfw!! smut, cocky john, just straight up porn at the end but can you blame me

John hadn't spoken a word in your direction for a week. Despite constantly seeing you glued to Ada's hip, he’d barely acknowledged you since the wedding. He didn’t even bother looking up. Instead his jaw tensed, taking longer inhales of smoke, constantly examining the pocket watch dangling from his right hip. You were the last person John wanted to see right now. He couldn’t get you out of his head, the flush of your cheeks as you had moaned for him imprinted in his memory. You were fucking picturesque writhing around in his lap, a mess for him, and only him. He’d never felt like this; never wanted someone so badly it hurt. Usually, he drowned what little emotions he had in the nearest bottle of whiskey. You, however, were igniting something inside him he’d never felt. Lust, yes, but it was more. A yearning, a need, to see you smile at his crap jokes for the rest of his fucking life. God, you were getting to him.

His coldness and distance towards you hadn't gone unnoticed. To John’s embarrassment, his brothers regularly referred to it as "a little tiff", usually when you were within earshot, as they loved embarrassing his brother. They were blissfully unaware of the full story, assuming his cockiness had put you off him. He sometimes wondered the same; even though you remained polite by greeting him despite the minimal nod he responded with, you seemed ashamed. John only hoped it wasn't because you were ashamed of him. The truth was, he couldn't get the intensity between the two of you off his mind. Whenever he so much as caught a glimpse of you, he remembered how pretty you looked begging for him, then the embarrassment of having to reject you out of family loyalty. You admitting you wanted to have sex with him, him getting fucked off at you because you were off your face, complicating everything. Yet, every night, he held your words close to him, trying to decipher them.

He knew his brothers wouldn't get it. They wouldn't understand how tragic it was; they'd think it was funny that Ada's best friend wanted to fuck him. Either way, John would always rather put himself in the firing line of his brother's jokes than risk your reputation being blemished. He just couldn't look at you without a wave of guilt and sexual attraction flowing through his veins, causing his jaw to clench and his shoulders to stiffen, his suit jacket expertly covering strain on the crotch of his trousers.

A full week had passed since the wedding, of a man Tommy had recruited in an assassination effort. It was embarrassing how his family used money to attempt to push the trauma they created under the carpet. He knew he didn't have room to talk, but fuckin’ hell, a wedding? Maybe Tommy should've just not hired him to blow the brains out of his own father. Well, it was one way to get rid of the police commissioner who got too nosey, John guessed.

He had hoped that you were a passing phase of infatuation. He’d had many before; he’d been notorious around Birmingham for his conquests. Sure, it was possible he had just gotten overly excited and intoxicated around a beautiful girl. Yet, in the quiet moments of his life, in between his kids and business, his mind was only on you. You, straddling him in that booth, the way you grinned at him as he approached you at the wedding party. Sometimes when he was driving home, his mind would drift off thinking of the feeling of your figure pressed against him, the feel of your lips, your laugh, the sound of your heaving breaths against his ear. You haunted him the most at night, visions of you with his name on your lips in his silk sheets. You were his forbidden fruit, dangling barely out of reach.

***

John was at his desk, paperwork long abandoned in favour of whiskey and a cigar, lost in his own thoughts. The loud tapping of rain and the wind of the storm outside shook the windows, yet John felt somewhat at peace; a temporary peace, but he could unwind. Just his desk, the moonlight, the gas lamp illuminating his empty glass and the heavy English rain for company. He found far more joy in the simplicity of life than his brothers, who reeked of new money. He liked his things the way they were, it all worked, but he had to admit he was a sucker for a good suit. The kids were long in bed, the nanny to comfort their nightmares. It made him feel like a shit father, and he didn't want to be like his useless dad. He had started resenting the life Thomas was forcing him to live; the booze, the partying, the Tokyo, the fighting. It was wearing on him. He needed a break from everyone in this town, he reckoned.

However, a certain unexpected guest was always welcome to him. You had just drifted across his mind when a firm knock at the door caught his attention. He straightened his tie, leaving his legs outstretched and crossed on the dark oak desk, calling for the visitor to enter.

There you were. Dripping from head to toe, but still as beautiful as ever to him, despite your damp hair and slightly smudged makeup. You had caught him off guard, and in his surprise, he couldn't suppress the cheeky grin which spread across his face.

"Got caught in the storm, eh? I'll put the fire on and pour you a drink yeah? Warm you up." He slurred slightly, springing into action, lighting the fire and going to fill two glasses with whiskey, which you politely refused.

"I'm not drinking tonight, Mr. Shelby."

He decides he won't either. He tried to ignore your piercing gaze, motioning you to sit across his desk from him, reaching to put the whiskey in his drawer. "That's not like you. Where you headed, love? That lecture with Ada?"

"I came to see you."

He noted your firm tone, the flirty smile, the coy eye contact.

"What's the occasion?"

"You've been avoiding me." You told him bluntly, his cheeks reddening, eye contact breaking momentarily.

"Yeah, I know." He took a draw from his cigar, rolling the smoke from between his lips on the exhale. "M’sorry."

You watched him for a moment and he met your eyes, suddenly softened from his usual icey blue inquisitive stare. To shame, he looked so vulnerable right now. You could feel yourself falling for him again. This is what you hung around for, the fleeting glimpses of the authentic John Shelby. The lad you'd first giggled about in the girl's bathroom at lunch, barely knowing what sex was. Barely understanding power and politics. Unaware of who you'd both end up as.

"You're fucking soaked to the bone. Come on, I'll put your clothes to dry by the fire. And don't give me that look, I'll give you my coat to save your modesty, lass." He teased. You ignored the way his muscles flexed as he reached for his woolen jacket, some outrageously expensive tailored affair from some London boutique, his large rough hands brushing your fingers. "I'll turn around."

You grasped the coat, heading to the fireplace and warming up for a moment, checking that you were far from his line of sight. This was a dangerous game for you both. You wished he'd grab you, take you on his desk and finish what he started, but the way he absentmindedly drummed his fingers on the desk as he waited indicated that he was restraining himself.

You'd rid yourself of your thin jacket, bought from the market stall last week, effortlessly trendy but an imitation of the pricey stuff Ada and the blinder wives and girlfriends you knew. You were jealous of their fur coats, they were always warm and glamorous looking even on the coldest winter night in Birmingham.

You glanced across the room to John. He was staring intently at the wall lost in thought, teeth gritted.

"John? Could you unzip me?" You asked, purposefully making your voice sound as neutral as possible, looking at him over your shoulder.

He paused, bringing his fingers to rub circles against his jaw. You caught a glimpse of white teeth and dimples as he glanced at you out the corner of his eye and you can't help but match his coy grin. He pushed himself off the desk and quickly closed the small distance towards you, his hand finding first your shoulder then the zip at the nape of your neck, your breath hitching as he pulled the zip to your waist. You could feel his eyes tracing the curvature of your spine and hips. You both hesitated for a moment, before John’s warm fingertips grazed your waist, lips pressing into your hair affectionately. His mouth found his way to your ear, cheekbone, jaw and then neck, encouraged by the way your left hand cradled his head as you pressed your body back into his and how your eyes drifted shut at his touch.

"Sweetheart, why did you come here?" He muttered into your ear, his words and casual affection causing your core to swell in response.

"Couldn't stop thinking about you. I've barely slept in a week, feel terrible. Then you've been ignoring me-"

"It isn't personal, Y/N. You know this isn’t how I want it to be." His hands found their way to your waist, gripping lightly at your hip bones, sending a shiver down your back.

"Well this is how it is, John. It's never going to be any different. So, what are you going to do about it?"

"What are you fucking on about, love?"

"I reckon that just once can't hurt, nobody would know but us. Then we can both move on with our lives..."

John hesitated, "What about Ada?" His head rested on your shoulder, the scent of your sweet perfume causing him to want you even more. Jesus, he was too far gone.

"We were so close the first night I got here and we didn't. No one caught on then, why would it be different now?"

He wanted to trust you so badly, it ached inside of him. He wanted to feel you around him, make you cum for him again and again, for you to be breathless and shaking under him. He wanted to give you everything he could, even if just once. But he couldn't.

"She's my sister. Family is everything; if I don't have them, I’ve got nothin’." He stated firmly, yet his palms lingered on your hips, the liquor destroying his perception of the distinction between friendly touching and actions that made you swallow deeply and pray for relief.

"You have me for tonight." You pulled away from him, ignoring the groan that escaped from his lips at the loss of contact. You locked your eyes with his blue ones and pushed the straps of your dress from your shoulders, allowing the damp material to pool around your feet, standing in front of the man you'd wanted for years. It was now or never.

He stayed silent, watching you, eyes not leaving yours, challenging you for a brief moment before his eyes flickered over your figure.

"Is it such a crime to want to fuck you?" You asked, the silk of your skimpy underwear forcing John to wipe the corner of his mouth absentmindedly as he drank you in, mumbling profanities under his breath. Yet, despite the glances and his sudden frustration, you could tell you had him. His eyes were feral and hungry, daring you to keep pushing him. His shoulders were squared, he was ready for action. The crackling firelight illuminated you beautifully; you were irresistible to him.

"It's not a crime. Where'd you get this backbone from?" He asked, reaching for you but you stepped away, teasing him.

"University up north does sommet to a woman."

"You can fuck off or fuck me with that attitude."

"The latter if you behave yourself, Mr Shelby."

He smirked at you, holding his hands up in mock surrender, before wrapping his coat around your shoulders, pulling you towards him by the back of the collar. "You've got a mouth on you, love. You gonna put it to good use?"

"I was told months ago that you'd sort me out, John-" Your speech was interrupted by a small squealing giggle as he tugged at your hair lightly for mocking his voice, his eyes bright and crinkled at the edges due to his grin. "I'm disappointed with these delays, especially from the Shelby Company."

"Well, as the boss, I'll sort it for you, personally and immediately. Let me make it up to you, lass," John crooned, his lips meeting yours once again, fingers pushing your thighs apart, still clad in your black stockings and garter belt. "This is where we got up to last time, yes?"

"Yes Mr. Shelby, I believe so."

He pressed his lips and teeth against where your jaw met your neck, tracing his index and middle fingers over the silk of your underwear which covered your slit. You couldn’t help but lean into him, a slight hiss escaping your teeth.

"You like that, huh? You're fuckin’ soaked for me already, love," John muttered against your neck, lifting your left leg to hook around his waist, easily lifting you onto his desk, scattering loose papers and heavy accounting books onto the floor in his urgency to feel your bare skin on his. "They teach you how to push a bloke over the edge at that fancy university?"

"No, I figured that out on my own actually."

"Always knew you were bright," He smirked, quickly ridding you of your flimsy panties, the pads of his fingertips hot against your thighs. "Always going for the ones smarter than me, Tommy reckons it's not difficult."

"Your brother's chatting shit, he's not the one ‘bout to fuck me on his desk, yeah?" You shot back, opening your thighs to encourage him, your cunt exposed, cutting off John’s laugh. He couldn’t help but stare, eyes glued to your dripping cunt. "You're my favourite brother, always have been. If you tell Finn, I'll kill you," You teased.

"Come off it," John grunted in reply, unable to restrain pressing kisses to your inner thighs, your head tilting back, fingers desperately clutching at his hair. “Need t’get a proper taste of you, yeah? Look so fuckin’ sweet for me.” His mouth reached your core, slowly dipping his tongue into you, causing your mouth to fall open in ecstasy. God, his lips were even softer than they looked. His movements switched from light and teasing to purposeful and focused, his fingers curled and pumping inside you, tongue and thumb attacking your clit. He'd gotten on his knees, your legs wrapped around his neck as he groaned into your cunt, causing you to buck your hips wildly at the sensation, moans falling out of your mouth.

“Fuckin’ christ, John,” You swore, feeling yourself pulsate and twitch around his nimble fingers, crying out into the empty office building. You were getting so close, your hips jerking independently, chest heaving as you gasped for air. You were quickly getting overstimulated, you were so close. Before you could finish, John raised his head back to yours, letting you taste yourself on his mouth, his hands moving from your cunt to your tits, finger tips tracing the outline of your nipples through your silk bra.

"If we get to do this once, I want to feel you finish on my cock, doll," John grunted in a hushed tone, pointedly moving his lips to your collarbone when you opened your mouth to argue back to him.

"Then I get to ride you." Your statement took him by surprise; most women he'd slept with seemed fairly passive in bed. Sure they enjoyed themselves, but they never took control. He could feel himself swell in response to your words. He'd never been put in this position; he was a stranger to it, but the idea was thrilling and wickedly seductive. Especially from someone who was the epitome of "girl-next-door" as they were growing up.

"Polly reckoned you'd be trouble since Ada told us you'd returned. Don't mind getting into trouble with you, though," He teased, his plump mouth dipping to your cleavage, unclasping your bra, tongue circling your hardening nipples.

"John, fuckin’ christ, need you to finish me off, yeah?" You begged, voice shaking, much to his amusement, his fingers re-entering you roughly. John pressed open-mouthed kisses to your neck, soothing your body from the sharp sensation, the slight pain exacerbating the pleasure arising from his mouth and fingers.

"I've barely started with you, and already you're begging for me to fuck you." He muttered into your skin, as he watched you writhe and lift your hips, reacting beautifully to the feelings he was reawakening within you.

"John, m’not fucking about, yeah? I need you," You whined, hand resting on his inner thigh, fingers grazing the fastenings across his groin, gazing up at him from your seat on his desk. John hated waiting for relief, he had very little patience, and almost immediately he gave in and collapsed into his large armchair, pulling you on top of him, letting you pin his wrists to the chair and grind against him as your mouth found his, then his neck, removing his waistcoat, shirt and tie, revealing his muscular chest. The bruising kisses you pressed to his skin left him breathless and needing more, helping you unbuckle his belt and push his suit trousers down his legs. You couldn’t help but take him into your hand, moving it up and down his sensitive shaft.

“Christ, you’re too fuckin’ good at this,” John groaned as you spit on your palm to better move your hand up and down his cock, teasing the sensitive tip with your fingers and tongue. He couldn’t help but watch you, keeping eye contact as you toyed with him, blue eyes heavy with pleasure and lust for more.

You angled your hips above him and he adjusted himself, using his hand to better push himself inside you. You yelped lightly as you adjusted to his girth, his mouth distracting you by pressing kisses on your shoulder and tangling his hands through your hair, trying to control his breaths as you adjusted to him, soft moans falling from your mouth, your tight cunt gripping his cock.

“S’fuckin’ perfect, like your pussy was made for me,” he groaned, breath growing heavier with the sensation of you grinding against him. Pushing his hips up into you, he couldn’t help but grab at your hip bones, grip burning into your skin, bouncing you on his cock, mouth slightly slack, groaning as he grasped at your flesh. You’d imagined hundreds of times how fucking irresistible John would look underneath you, but it was nothing compared to the real thing.

The thrill of having John Shelby with his trousers down in his office, quickly dissolving into a moaning and grunting mess with every rotation or twist of your hips, in the midst of a stormy night while the thunder echoed around the empty streets below was almost too much to take. You should be home right now, curled up in that empty unheated flat, behaving yourself. Even on a date or fucking someone else. But instead you'd gone to him and now you were riding him. You wanted the moment to last forever, right now everything felt so right, you knew when it was over the guilt would hit. But you couldn't avoid it, you could feel your legs start to shake.

“Look so god damn pretty ridin’ me, love. Makin’ me wanna cum inside you.” John growled, panting, struggling to keep pace as you moaned on top of him. Your fingers found his jawline and guided him to look up at you, craving to see how his face looked when he finally came undone. He reached between your legs, torturing your clit with his fingers while he slammed into you a few extra times, using up the rest of his energy. The extra stimulation pushed you over the edge, crying out John’s name as you felt yourself release. Watching you whine his name was the last straw for him, spilling into you as your dripping cunt squeezed him, reveling in the image of you a mess for him.

***

You finally came back to your senses, catching your breath, John clutching you to his chest protectively for a minute or two, enjoying the tranquility and post-sex clarity. He checked his clock, sighing and lifting you from his lap to his desk, running a towel under the sink in the corner of his room and passing it to you to clean up between your legs with.

"Charming," You smirked, tired but satisfied. "No wonder the ladies always come back for more."

"Not you though, aye? One night only exclusive, this." He matched your playful tone, but his eyes were dull with exhaustion and he looked almost upset. He was probably just knackered after working all day and then going overtime just to please you.

"Make yourself useful and grab my clothes for me John-lad." You teased, thankfully changing the subject. He rolled his eyes in the waning firelight, locating the clothes the two of you had left scattered around the room. You quickly dressed, not caring how he watched you silently, as though trying to memorize the image of you. Your clothes were far drier than earlier, the last remaining remnants of damp clutching to the fibers and freezing you all over again. Yet before you could even comment, John's wool coat was wrapped back around your shoulders.

"Because you're cold, not because you look fuckable in it." He said pointedly, smirking slightly, the edges seeming artificial.

"Remind me not to fall madly in love with you. Won't be able to help myself if you keep talking like that, Mr. Shelby." You retorted sarcastically with a grin, earning a gentle dig to the ribs.

"It's Mr. Shelby if you're trying to fuck me. John is between friends and family, right?"

"Someone better inform Mr. Solomons of that distinction, then," You paused, "Mr. Shelby."

"Don't be a fucking cocktease." He scolded with a small grin, grabbing his car keys and hat from the door. "You want a lift then? Don't dick about being polite, Y/N, it's fucking midnight, just accept it."

"Since you asked so nicely."

"You know you've got worse since you've been at uni? Too fast for us lot now." He teased, half serious, as he led you to his car. He couldn't believe the beautiful woman in his passenger seat was the girl with pigtails who'd chase Ada around the canal with their girl gang for hours, the pretty teen who read for hours in his sister's bedroom, comparing notes together. No one was surprised you got a scholarship to university, despite your gender and class. You'd been incredibly lucky. Yet, you'd seen the world and had come back to Birmingham and picked him.

Shame you could only pick him once.

[imagine-a-life-like-this]

Imaginary Friend (Y.JI)

Warnings : swearing, alcohol, domestic abuse, childhood abuse, coma,

Word Count : 2033

Synopsis : jeongin has been by her side for as long as she can remember. he was her imaginary friend, her safe space, her knight in shining armor. but the only thing she wants is for him to be real.

“You’re here.” She croaked out with a small smile on her bruised face. The man sitting on the chair next to her hospital bed smiled back, reaching to grab her hand only for it to phase right through. “I wish you were real. I could use some cuddles.” She giggled.

           It was music to Jeongin’s ears. Her giggle was something he’s missed these last few years. His disappearance from her life was for the best; she was getting older and making real life friends, but that doesn’t mean he didn’t miss her every single day. “I’d give you all the cuddles if I was real.” Tears welled up in her eyes and Jeongin wished he could wipe them away. He wished he could do more than just sit beside her and watch her heal from her injuries. “What happened?”

           She had come home from work later than usual due to her boss asking her to stay behind and finish some paperwork. Her fiancé was waiting for her in the living room, a beer in his hand as he stared ahead at the tv. “You’re late.” He said without even turning his head.

           “I’m sorry. My boss asked me to finish some paperwork tonight.” She explained as she quietly placed her keys in the dish by the door and took off her jacket, hoping not to disturb his show. She knows how angry he gets when someone disturbs his show.

           “Bullshit.” He raised his voice, slamming the bottle on the side table, smashing it to pieces. She flinched at the sudden noise and tried to hold back the tears that would surely fall in the shower. “I know you’re fucking your boss.” She opened her mouth to deny the allegations, but he was standing and throwing everything in his vicinity at her. “You’re nothing but a dirty slut!”

           “I’m not cheating on you, I promise. I love you. I only love you!” She cried, holding her arms in front of her face as the violence got worse. He started with pillows and books, and that escalated to the lamp on the side table, before he was in front of her, throwing punches while she lay on the ground, protecting her head.

           “All women are the same.” He spat, delivering one last blow before she blacked out.

           “Now I really wish I was real so I could kick his ass and run away with you.” Jeongin partially joked, smiling only when he saw her smile.

           “Can you stay with me? I always feel safe when you’re with me.”

           “Of course.” He whispered softly, wishing he could crawl into the bed beside her and hold her while she sleeps. Instead, he stays sitting on the chair, quietly singing to her while she drifts off to sleep.

           “A 90%? I raised you better than this!” Her dad yelled, throwing her latest test on the table before reaching to remove the belt holding his pants up. “Hands on the wall.” With tears in her eyes,  she reluctantly put her hands on the wall, her back facing her father. She wanted to ask him to stop, wanted to tell him she was sorry and she would study harder, but she knew better than to talk back.

           “Jeongin? What are you doing here? My parents will kill us both if they see you.” She whispered when she got up to her room.

           “I guess we’ll have to make sure they don’t find me.” He playfully smirked, laying on her bed, patting the empty space beside him. “I missed my best friend, okay? Is that a crime?” She couldn’t help but laugh at her best friends antics, rolling her eyes as she crawled into bed beside him.

           “Missing me isn’t a crime but breaking into my room is.” She teased, holding one of his hands with one of hers and drawing random shapes on the back of it with the other. It distracted her, calmed her, from the events that took place downstairs earlier. “Can you sing to me, Innie?”

           “Of course. Anything for my best friend.” As he softly sang some of her favourite songs, she drifted off to sleep, her hand still holding his, their fingers now intertwined. Even at the tender age of 12, Jeongin knew he wouldn’t have it any other way.

           It’s like she could still feel his touch, as if he was real. She could feel the warmth of his hand in hers while she softly drew shapes and letters on the back of his hand, writing secret messages only she knew. She could feel the warmth of his body laying next to her while he softly sang to her, brushing the hair out of her eyes, and pressing a soft kiss to her forehead before disappearing out the window he came in.

           But how was that possible when Jeongin was nothing more than her imaginary friend; someone she created out of loneliness. That’s what her parents told her, it’s what her therapist told her. Jeongin, the boy she’s known her whole life, was nothing more than a figment of her imagination. But she couldn’t let him go. He was her safe space.

           As her injuries healed, Jeongin would accompany her for walks around the hospital. At first, they only walked up and down the hallway where her room was. But as she got better, they wandered further into the hospital, visiting different wards, and even venturing outside a couple times. “Are you going to stay with me when they discharge me next week?” She asked as they wandered the quietest ward in the hospital; the coma ward.

           It was the only place besides her room she could talk openly to Jeongin without people looking at her like she was insane. “If you want me, I’ll follow you everywhere.” He smiled as he turned his head to look at her. As he did, he caught something out of the corner of his eye, something, or someone, that looked a little too familiar. “Let’s go in this room.” He said, already walking towards it.

           She followed him into the quiet room, the only sounds that could be heard coming from the machines keeping the young boy alive. Jeongin hesitantly approached the bed, seeing his own face. As she took his side, her heart felt like it was going to beat out of her chest. “It’s you.” Jeongin turned away from the bed to see her looking pale.

           “Hey, sit down.” He was no longer concerned about the man in the bed looking like him. His full concern was on the girl he called his best friend for as long as he can remember, the only person on this earth that could see him. “Talk to me, Y/N.” His hands hovered over her face, knowing he couldn’t touch her, no matter how badly he wishes he could.

           “Y/N?” Before she could answer, someone was calling her name from the door. A middle-aged woman walked into the room, obviously just coming from wherever she worked. “It’s really you.” She smiled, opening her arms for a hug.

           “Do you know me?” The younger girl asked, looking at the woman who looked familiar, but no name was coming to her mind. She could see how dejected the woman felt by the way her smile and arms dropped.

           “I suppose it really has been a long time. I always wondered why you never came to visit.” She looked at the older woman, wondering what on earth she was talking about. “You and Jeongin were so close growing up. I thought when I told your parents about the accident, you’d come right here.”

                     Y/N turned her head to look at the imaginary Jeongin standing right beside her, his face conveyed the shock she felt. “You mean he’s real?” She didn’t even look at the woman, only staring at Jeongin’s face, tears welling up in her eyes. “Jeongin is a real person?”

           “Of course, sweetie. He was your best friend before the accident.” She finally met her eyes again, allowing the tears to run freely.

           “How long as it been?”

           “Today would be 8 years.” Her parents lied to her for 8 years about the boy she called her best friend. She was convinced he had been a figment of her imagination, someone she created because the other kids didn’t want to be her friend. She thought he disappeared due to the fact she had made new friends, but he was real this whole time. Laying in the hospital bed, barely alive. “Let’s grab something to eat and talk some more.”

           She followed the familiar woman down to the cafeteria in the hospital, Jeongin staying behind and staring at his own face, wondering how he ended up in such a position. “I really had no idea. My parents told me Jeongin was a figment of my imagination.” She explained, her voice soft. She could barely meet her eyes, instead staring at the drink she was holding in her hands.

           “Maybe that was for the best. You were so young, I’m sure the news would have devastated you.” Jeongin’s mom reached across and grabbed her hand, making her finally meet her gaze. “Ah, you’re engaged now?” She asked, noticing the ring Y/N still hadn’t taken off.

           She pulled her hand back, quickly removing the ring from her finger and denying her engagement. “Not anymore. He, uh, he’s the reason I’m here actually.” She admitted, feeling safe in the presence of this stranger, a stranger who isn’t a stranger at all. She’s her best friend’s mom, someone she grew up with.

           “Good on you for leaving him, sweetheart. You should find someone that makes you feel safe and happy.” They shared a smile, and Jeongin’s mom shared some stories of the two of them in their childhood. “I remember he would always sneak out to see you at night. I always knew, he was never quiet, but I knew he was going to you.” She giggled, and Y/N just smiled at her.

           “Jeongin was always my safe space. Almost like he was my knight in shining armor.”

           “I always thought the two of you were going to end up together. You were always attached at the hip.” Y/N couldn’t lie, with all the memories flooding her mind, she could see the two of them getting together. But before she could say anything, the woman’s phone rang; a nurse calling saying her son had finally woken up. “Oh my god.” She whispered, and the two girls ran back to Jeongin’s room, seeing him sitting up in bed with a smile on his face.

           “I’m real.” He spoke, staring directly at Y/N. She nodded with tears in her eyes.

           “You’re real.” Their wish came true. He could reach out and hold her hand, he could wipe her tears away, and hold her until she felt okay again.

           “My son, you’re awake!” His mom wrapped her arms around him, Y/N stood back and watched the heartwarming scene as the tears fell down her cheeks. “How do you feel? Are you hurt anywhere?” She placed her hands on his shoulders, looking over his body to see if he could be in pain anywhere. All the physical injuries he sustained had faded while he was in a coma. 8 years was along time to be asleep, and still he felt tired.

           “I’m fine, mom. Honestly I’m just tired.” He chuckled. Y/N crossed her arms over her chest, shaking her head at her best friend.

           “You just slept for 8 years, Innie.”

           “No! I followed you around for 8 years, Y/N.” He pouted. She smiled at the memories of him being by her side whenever she needed him. His mom stayed silent, not even questioning the confusing conversation happening before her, just happy to have her son back.

           “Yeah, yeah you did. I guess it’s my turn to take care of you though.” The two shared a laugh as she walked closer, taking the empty seat beside the bed, and grabbing his hand. “I hope you know that you’re never getting rid of me. I’m going to be stuck to you like glue.”

           “I wouldn’t have it any other way, love.”

[whisker-biscuit]

The Birds, The Bees, and The Bottles

Fandom: Psychonauts

Rating: T for mild language and discussions of underage drinking

Summary: Two teens are caught trying to sneak into a bar. Bob finally has a conversation he’s held off for far too long.

Because herbaphony is not the only thing that runs in the Zanotto family.

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

Bob’s phone rang at two in the morning. Judging by the jolly ringtone of Helmut singing Strawberry Fields Forever, it was his personal phone instead of his work one, and that was the real tip off to things being very, very wrong.

He woke up and groggily pulled out of his still-slumbering-husband’s arms to answer the little thing going off on his nightstand.

“H’lo?”

“Bob!” Truman’s voice came out far too loud for the time of night, and far too stressed. “Bob, I’m so sorry to wake you, but something happened with Lili. I need you to pick her up for me, please.”

The older man sat up, much more awake as worry and fear immediately rolled in his gut. Helmut finally began to stir beside him, sensing his partner’s agitation.

“Truman, what’s going on? Pick Lili up from where?”

“The city’s police precinct on Abbey Avenue. She – she called me, but I’m out of state and I wouldn’t get there for hours at least even if I left this instant. She’s not in danger!” He added hastily, hearing the concern before Bob could even voice it mentally. “She didn’t get hurt! She’s just…”

The way he tapered off, the way he hesitated, said more than words could.

“She just got herself into some trouble, and she needs someone to go get her.”

Helmut was sitting up now, and Bob felt the question cross their mental link.

 What happened?

 Truman needs me to pick Lili up from the police station.

“I’m up, I’m on my way right now,” He responded to his nephew verbally, heaving himself out of bed. His husband followed suit despite still looking extremely puzzled, bless him.

“Thank you so much, Bob. I’ll make it up to you as soon as I can, I promise.”

“Don’t worry about it.” The older man waved a dismissive hand even though Truman wasn’t there to see it. “Family is s’pposed to do that for each other anyway.”

“Did I hear that right? Our peppy petunia had a run-in with the law?” Helmut asked as soon as his partner hung up. He paused, and in a lower tone – “she didn’t kill anyone, did she?”

“I don’t think it’s that serious,” Bob said, pulling a coat on over his sleep shirt. “But something tells me we still have a few things to worry about. I’ll be back as soon as I can.”

“Ohohoh, no, don’t even think about hoofin’ it without me. We both know I’m the better driver.”

“Neither of us are very good drivers, Helmut.”

“Exactly! That little bit makes all the difference!”

The herbophanist sighed, charmed despite himself and the situation. “Alright, alright. Let’s not keep her waiting.”

The police precinct was nearly dead at this time of night. While it would’ve felt eerie to anyone else, Bob was grateful for the lack of people, and not just because he was still an introvert of the highest degree.

Two teenagers awaited them in the lobby, sitting on a bench together. One was hunched over and burning a hole in the ground with his downcast eyes. The other sat straight up, defiant, holding a glaring contest with the officer standing over them. When Bob entered the room first and met his great-niece’s eyes, her self-assuredness wavered for a brief moment. She hid the slip-up behind a wall of indifference.

“Lili,” he said softly. Then, just as softly but with a gruff tinge of surprise; “Razputin.”

There was no accusation in his voice, but the former scowled harder and the latter looked like he wanted to employ his invisibility. Bob studied them both a moment before his husband appeared and broke the tension with his mere presence.

“We’re here to bust you out, kiddos!” He announced with spread arms, cheerfully ignoring the looks he received from every person in the room.

“Are you Truman Zanotto?” Asked the officer who finally broke his gaze away from Lili to give them a disapproving once-over.

“No, I’m uh, I’m Bob Zanotto, and this is Helmut,” came the awkward reply. “Truman called me to pick Lili up. She’s my great-niece.”

A few seconds of silence passed as the officer made no move to do anything with that information. Bob cleared his throat.

“We’re, uh, listed in her emergency contacts for school?”

“I see. If you can just fill out some paperwork first, we can release her into your custody.”

The herbophanist watched the way Raz seemed to sink further in his seat at the mention of family contacts. The Aquatos were also out of state right now too, if he remembered correctly. Perfect timing for two minors getting up to mischief.

Well, up until they were actually caught.

“And…Razputin, too?” He asked, catching the teen’s startled gaze and giving him the mental equivalent of a thumbs-up.

The officer raised a brow. “Is he related to you, too?”

“Well, uh –”

“Yep!” Helmut interrupted, strolling right up to Raz and giving him a merry clap on the back. The teen had a physique comparable to most adult Olympic athletes, but even he nearly toppled forward from the force of such a big man. “He’s my third cousin, twice removed. Big family. Very close. Holidays are an experience, lemme tell ya!”

“Fine,” the officer pinched the bridge of his nose. “Fine, okay, I’ll make sure he gets cleared for release too. I’ll be right back.”

He stalked off, muttering something about it ‘being too damn early for this’, and the older couple turned to face Raz and Lili. Helmut steepled his fingers together to rest against his mustache.

“So! Now that Officer Spoil-Sport is gone, are we allowed to know what heinous crime has been committed in the night by my favorite pair of mischief-makers?”

The two glanced at each other. Raz was the one to break their silence.

“We, uh…got caught sneaking into a bar.”

Cold heat rushed through Bob’s core. Helmut blinked once, twice, then let out a boisterous chuckle.

“That’s it? Jesus! From the way you two were acting I thought you’d robbed the First National Bank.”

“…Helmut.” His husband murmured. The psi-king lost his mirth as he caught Bob’s eye.

“Ah…w-well, y’know, while I’m certainly glad we won’t hear about a righteous homicide in the news tomorrow, forgery ain’t exactly a humble hobby either.”

“It was just two IDs,” Lili muttered under her breath. “Not a big deal.”

The ice in her great-uncle’s heart turned frigid, but before he or Helmut could say anything to that, the officer was back. He shoved a handful of forms under Bob’s nose and the herbophanist fumbled to grab them before they all tumbled to the floor.

“Uh, uh, thank you.”

“Alright, we’re putting the pause on this conversation to make you free citizens again, but don’t think that means we’re done with it.” The Psi-King gave the teens the sternest look he could manage. “As soon as we get in the car, you two will have a lot of explaining to do.”

“O-Okay.”

“Uh-huh.”

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

No one spoke a word as they got in the car and started the drive back.

Raz seemed content to continue his efforts to blend in with the background of his seat, still not meeting anyone’s eyes, and Lili stared out the window with her chin in her hand, leaning against the car’s backdoor and letting the lights of the city bathe her in neon sickness.

Helmut, bless his soul, dutifully kept the radio going while he drove, changing the station to something more mellow whenever a song started getting a little too upbeat for the collective mood of the vehicle. Bob sat in the passenger side with his arms folded awkwardly. His brain was buzzing, dreading the inevitable conversation he needed to have with his great-niece and trying to figure out how he was going to go about it.

It surprised them all when Raz spoke over the music.

“It was my idea.”

The two adults glanced at each other, then through the rearview mirror at the fidgeting teen.

“Your idea to go looking for a drink? Or to sneak into a bar to do it?” Helmut asked, turning off the radio.

“Both.”

He still wasn’t meeting their eyes. Bob sighed through his nose.

“I don’t believe you.”

Razputin’s head finally snapped up to stare at him in shock for the fast call on his bluff. “I’m telling the truth!”

“I think you’re only telling part of it, kid.”

“No! I’m telling all of it.”

“Razpu-”

“Oh, come off it, Raz,” Lili snapped a little too loud, making the whole car jump. “Quit trying to take the fall for me. It was my idea to try the stupid fake ID thing, okay? Happy now?”

“Wh – uh, who said anything about being happy about it?” Helmut asked, legitimately confused.

“Look. Neither of us had anything to do tonight, and we were bored, so Raz suggested getting a drink somewhere, but Adam and Lizzie are out of town so we couldn’t ask them.” She crossed her arms and spoke without any inflection. “So, we went out but no one would let us do anything cause we’re minors. I thought that was stupid, because we’re agents same as any of you, so I came up with the sneaking-in part. We only got caught cause one of the bartenders recognized Raz from a show.”

There were a lot of loaded things to parse through from that explanation, but Bob’s mind stalled on one particular detail.

“Adam and Lizzie give you two alcohol?”

“Not…often,” Raz admitted. “Just once or twice, when we asked.”

“Do you mean like, a literal once or twice, or a…an estimated once or twice?”

“Did Dad put you up to this?” Lili shot back. “It was just a few times, like he said. What’s with the inquisition?”

“…Lili –”

 “Raz.”

“Okay!” Helmut proclaimed as he slapped his hand against the steering wheel in boisterous aggression. “Who wants some ice cream?”

Everyone stared at him, dumbfounded.

“Cause I’m really feeling some chocolate-vanilla swirl right now. Basic bitch style. Right? Who’s with me?”

Silence.

“Great! Look at that, open Dairy King right there, better take advantage of this opportunity before it slips through our fingers like the melting ice cream we’re all gonna have in about five minutes!”

The psi-king swung into the parking lot in a frenzy and herded the car crew inside before any of them could come out of their shock long enough to protest. It was only as Bob was staring up at fifteen flavors of oversaturated sugary goodness that he realized what had just happened.

He couldn’t help but breathe a sigh of relief over his husband’s diversion. The tension that had been boiling over was cooled significantly by the sudden non-sequitur, and while the teens were rather half-hearted about picking out their sweet treats, there was no longer a risk of an explosion happening.

Metaphorically and literally.

Helmut caught his spouse’s eye with a meaningful look at Lili the moment all of them had their orders in hand, then slung his arm around Razputin’s shoulders and steered him away. “C’mon my lad! Nothing like the cool night air of three in the morning to keep your Hurricane ™ properly chilled!”

The poor boy had no choice but to let himself be pulled outside, leaving the two Zanottos standing awkwardly in the dingy restaurant. Bob gave a nervous scratch at his chin under his beard.

“How about we, uh, find a seat somewhere?”

Lili couldn’t fully cross her arms while holding ice cream, but she did a good job of making it work anyway. “Sure.”

They sat in a booth in the farthest corner from the front counter. Both great-niece and great-uncle stared at their respective sweet treats as if they could teleport them out of this situation. Bob glanced out the window and saw Helmut and Raz standing outside of the car. The former was on one knee with his hand on the teen’s shoulder, speaking earnestly but inaudibly, and the latter was scuffing the toe of his sneaker against the asphalt.

“Are you going to lecture me?” Lili finally cut through the silence.

Bob turned back to her. “No. Not really.”

“No?” She broke her gaze away from her ice cream just a little bit, eyeing him with surprise. “Then why did Helmut take Raz and leave us alone?”

She was so perceptive, so smart. And yet, still so young.

“Well, I… I still want to talk to you about what happened. I’m just not very, good, at this kind of thing.” He took his spoon and absentmindedly began drawing a flower in his soft-serve. “You already know what you did wasn’t a good idea, right? So I don’t think a lecture would help things any on that front.”

She didn’t respond. He continued.

“It’s less about the fake ID and more…the reasons you made the fake ID. Does that make sense?”

“I guess so, but I know what I’m doing, Uncle Bob. I’m not going to drink irresponsibly.”

The herbophanist shook his head. “But you’ll do irresponsible things to be able to drink in the first place.”

“That’s not –” Lili didn’t have a good rebuttal. She folded her arms and grumpily started eating her cherry chocolate delight. “Whatever. It’s two different things, anyway.”

Against his better judgement, Bob began picking at his own food as he thought about how best to bring the subject back up without making the teen defensive again. Spoons clicking against teeth was the only sound between them for a solid minute.

Finally, an epiphany.

“Did Truman ever…tell you anything, about your great-grandma?”

The girl paused with a bite halfway up to her mouth. She frowned, confused. “Grandma Tia? Not much. Just that she died when he was a baby.”

“Yeah. Yeah, she did.” He ran a tired hand over his face. The ache in his heart might have long-since healed into a scar, but that didn’t mean it didn’t hurt when pressed. “She passed away when I was nineteen. The doctors told me it was liver failure.”

He didn’t have to say anything else. Lili’s mouth thinned and she put her spoon down, uncomfortable.

“When I…found out the reason behind her death, I was horrified by it. It didn’t make sense to me why she would willingly do something that hurt her so badly, especially when I was right there to love her and help her. It felt like a betrayal that she never got help or made herself stop. I was…disgusted by the mere thought of doing anything like that.”

Bob took a moment to breathe and wipe his eyes. He wasn’t crying, but better safe than sorry.

“It sounds pretty hypocritical when I say it now, doesn’t it?”

His great-niece only gave him a hesitant look.

“Anyway, uh, where was I…” He worried his lip. “Oh, right. I told myself that I’d never touch the stuff after that. I was angry at what she’d done, and I was determined not to have the same ‘weakness’, so to speak. As you know, it, uh, it didn’t last long. I was at a college party barely a year later when I was invited by some friends to drink with them. I didn’t make human friends very easily back then – actually, I still don’t – so I was a little desperate to keep them. It turned out to be pretty hard whiskey, so I got hammered.”

The man leaned back in his seat, staring at the patterns in the booth table.

“Back then, no one really knew how alcoholism could run in a family. Everyone thought it was a personal choice to keep drinking. It wasn’t even classified as an addiction yet. So I didn’t know how susceptible I was, or how careful I had to be. I’d spend months not having a single drink, thinking I was fine and could handle myself, and then I’d get plastered for a week at parties and bars and God knows what else, and it would take me even longer to get myself to stop again. It was like that even when I was with Ford and his gang. It wasn’t until I started dating Helmut that I started trying to change those habits. I’d never met anyone who loved me so unconditionally that I wanted to be a better person for them, until him. And it worked for a while.

“Well, barring our wedding, of course. I got shitfaced at the reception. It was embarrassing afterwards, but Helmut told me it made our cake-eating ceremony a hell of a great time.”

Lili snorted, and it was accompanied by a tiny upturn of her lips. Then it dropped as her expression became solemn. “And then…everything with Maligula happened, right?”

“Yeah. I think you know the rest of that story.”

“Uh-huh.”

Great-niece and great-uncle sat together for a while, just thinking about it all.

“I know I have to be more careful drinking than a lot of people, Uncle Bob,” Lili finally said at length. “My dad warned me about it when I was old enough to ask.”

“Truman is a good dad,” he murmured in response.

“The best dad.”

“Definitely the best dad.”

More silence.

“I didn’t mean to worry you and him,” she continued. “Or scare you. I know it was dumb to do what we did tonight.”

Bob looked at her, and she gave a conceding sigh.

“Okay, it was dumb to do a lot of what we’ve been doing with this stuff. That doesn’t mean I’m not being careful.”

“Kid, it’s not always just a matter of being careful. I thought I was being careful. I thought that for years and years, and when I finally realized I wasn’t, I convinced myself I could stop any time I wanted to, and kept up the same patterns anyway. That’s what I’m trying to get you to understand. I just don’t want you to make the same mistakes I did. I’m just worried about you.”

Lili closed her eyes with a grimace. “I know. I’m sorry, Uncle Bob.”

“Hey, kiddo, look at me.” He waited until she did so. “I’m not mad at you. I’m not disappointed, either. That’s your dad’s job. I get it, is what I’m saying. It gives you a buzz, and it’s fun and exciting, and you just wanted to have a good time with your, uh…”

Bob leaned in a bit, and dropped his voice to a stage whisper.

“Is Raz still your boyfriend?”

“Wha –” her cheeks went red. “Yes, he is!”

“Alright, sorry, I’m just always out of the loop. No one ever tells me when these things change or not. Anyway,” he continued before she could get brighter than the cherries in her ice cream. “I’m just saying that you gotta be more than careful with this kind of thing. Everyone should be, really, but especially people like us. Plants aren’t the only thing that runs in the Zanotto family, unfortunately, so we just have to be aware of it and act accordingly.”

The teen turned this over in her mind. He could practically see the gears moving. When she looked at him again, it was with a slow, contemplative nod.

“No more late-night bar-hopping?” Her great-uncle asked.

“No more late-night bar-hopping.” She answered, sincere.

“Good.” He looked outside. Helmut and Raz were both lying on the front of the car, pointing out stars to each other. The sight made him smile. “Come on, we’ll work on that whole thing about Adam and Lizzie giving you alcohol another time, when it’s not three in the morning. For now, let’s rejoin our boys again and go get some rest, okay?”

“Okay.” Lili slid out of the booth and tentatively took her family member’s hand. His fingers squeezed hers in reassurance. “And...thanks, Uncle Bob.”

“Well, what can I say. Us weird Zanotto plant people hafta look out for each other, right?”

“Right.”

They walked out together, hand-in-hand.

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

A/N: I knew from promotional material that we'd be going into the mind of someone struggling with alcoholism, but Bob's Bottles punched me hard in the gut. It's probably my favorite mind in the game, both because it's visually gorgeous and because it hit a little close to home with some of the themes, like generational alcoholism and how the addiction can make someone a shell of themselves.

I wrote half of this three weeks ago and then found myself really struggling to finish it because it brought up a lot of old feelings I thought I'd sorted through a long time ago.

Psychonauts, man.

[sweater-daddiesdumbdork]

Appointment Scheduled

Summary- 2.7k Ransom Drysdale x Reader. Since that night at your parents, you haven't been to see Ransom. Not that he wasn't always on your mind. But you continue to defend your 'FWB' term that is all he is. Ransom gets tired of receiving physical silence from you.

So he made himself an appointment.

Warnings- somewhat mad mean Ransom, reader in denial of her feelings, some in the office over the desk sex. This is a cheater fic, the reader is cheating on her boyfriend and Ransom is encouraging this. Please if this bothers you, do not read it.

A/N- another self-indulgent fic featuring these two? Yes please, it's what I wanted, so it's what I wrote. As always, thank you for reading, comments and reblogging. You all have to thank @sagechanoafterdark for Ellie showing up in the story. We were talking that the reader needs a best friend who is like "Duh, you two are meant to be, it is so obvious." to our reader.

Masterlist

“Ellie no I haven't seen him since my dad's birthday party. I mean a few messages here and there, but nothing more about meeting up.”

You hear your best friend scoff on the other line. She was your confidante, your tried and true, better or worse, the bitch who will help you bury the body friend.

She also lacked sugar coating anything.

“Well, you two are just dumb. One of you has to open that line of conversation, might as well be you.”

You hit the button to the lift, sighing into the phone as you watched the numbers ding. “I don’t know what conversation you are talking about El.”

“Uh, the one where you two have been in love with each other since basically middle school? The one where whenever you feel lonely, that's the man you call? Or how about the one how he runs to you whenever you even put out a HINT that you might need him? That one Y/N.”

“We are just fuck buddies-”

“Really good, rock your world, the best sex and head you’ve ever gotten, buddy. Right?” Ellie’s tone is dripping with sarcasm now and you pinch your nose in aggravation while stepping onto the elevator.

“Exactly like that.” You go a bit quiet. “Listen, I’m at work, so talk later, okay?”

“Sure, I miss you. I wish you would move back to the city.” Ellie softened her tone a bit. “Girls weekend soon? I love you.”

“I love you too and of course!” You hit the end button and stuff it in your bag, staying quiet the rest of the ride up.

Working as a lawyer's assistant wasn’t too bad. Although it's often said couples shouldn't work together, you hardly saw Neil while you were there. He was usually in some kind of pissing match with another DA in the building, which made for some interesting rants from him when he got home.

You dutifully listened, but with little interest. They got old and boring, which was how you were feeling in this ‘safe relationship.’

Really you felt something must be fucked up with you. Neil was a good guy, supportive, he didn't have much of a jealous streak, although you wished once in a while he would get a bit riled up about when someone was checking you out when the two of you went out for a date night. Everything was stable in your relationship, aside from the fact you basically were away to Ransom's bed any chance you could.

Then there was Ransom. The man you were able to actually swear yourself off from two years straight and got your life in order.

So you thought. It took one drink and conversation to fall back to where you two were two years ago. Only this time you found him missing him while you were away, thinking about him more.

You opened your office door and propped it open for your boss's clients to come inside and wait, your boss's door opened on the other side. Shaking off your over-the-top feelings going on, you went to pour Johanna's coffee and grab the files for today's cases. She was on the phone, so you just set them down with a small wave of your hand and settled behind the desk to get started transferring her notes into the system.

Ransom though was never far from your mind when you gave your cell the occasional glance.

Lunchtime approached which meant you would meet up with Neil and head to the small cafe on the corner. He would ask you about your work, you would ask him about his. There would be pleasantries shared. You sighed once more to yourself at the thought of it.

Johanna closed her door with a sudden click. You jumped a bit in surprise as she shouldered her handbag. “You okay Dear?” The woman asked kindly and you smiled, brushing it off.

“Caught up in these files.”

“Ah, yes there is a lot with this case. Sorry about all the extra notes. I know it's a tad boring. But take your break, stay out with Neil a little extra. It's a nice day and you've earned it.” She smiled kindly.

“I will be sure to, maybe Neil and I can breeze around the park before returning.” Fat chance… you thought as you smiled kindly at your boss as she took her leave. You picked at your cell phone, working your lip about to message Neil that you would meet him when a rather loud distinctive tone filled the entryway to your and Johanna's office.

“I have a meeting lined up with Johanna Klein, if you could let her assistant know that Ransom Drysdale is here to see her.”

Dropping your cell phone, forgetting about Neil, you rise out of your seat and go to your door, peering out. Ransom is leaning against the desk to the receptionists of the lawyer's offices explaining how it was your lunchtime and you were out of the building.

Ransom’s voice was about to release, you could see him drawing in the air to make himself a bit more imposing at the idea that he wasn’t allowed to see you when his icy orbs lifted from the receptionist to you, a perfect smirk crossing those pale pink lips that could be so soft at the moment while dropping venom just as easily. “She looks like she is available to me.”

The receptionist spun her chair to see you in the doorway. “It’s okay, Johanna booked him as the last one this morning.” You lied while Ransom made his way around the desk to enter your office. The receptionist looked like she was about to say something more when you quickly clicked the door closed and pulled the shade over the frosted glass to keep from anyone seeing the two of you in there.

“What are you doing here Ransom?” You ask yet again, while he was leaning against the desk with his arms folded over his chest.

“I have an appointment. Seems it's the only way to properly see you again.” He pushed up the sleeves of his long sleeves over muscled forearms. You being you, was absolutely unable to take your eyes off that action.

“Well, I’ve been busy and you never made mention of it again.”

“Kitten…” His tone lowered with a warning. “I didn't think I had to imply that you could come over whenever. But if I'm going to have to do it this way from now on.” He pushed off the desk to stalk the small space to you. “Guess that's what I will do. Book my appointments between-” a slight snarl darkened his face, the crease between his eyes deepening as his hand rested in your lower back and pushed you closer to him.

Overwhelmingly closer. His muscles through the shirt flexed under your hands coming to rest on his pecs and his cologne made your mouth water with the familiarity. The scent of bergamot and cedar gave an almost smoky scent, a touch of sweetness with vanilla had you inching closer to Ransom. “- your time with Neil.”

Your eyes flashed angrily at him then, pulling back a bit in his hold. “What does it matter to you, Ransom?”

“It doesn't. Like I told you before Kitten, you and I will never be over.”

“Feels a lot like jealousy to me then.” You spat a bit. “Since we're just this.” You shrugged a bit, now your temper is getting the best of you. “What was it that Ellie said to me this morning. Fuck buddies.”

“Your term, not mine Kitten.” Ransom yanked you in close again, this time his kiss was a lot different than that night in your bedroom. It was harsh and demanding, forcing you to open your mouth to him and swallow his passion. “You know fucking Neil is skating on thin ice, keeping you all the time.” He shoved you roughly against your desk, your hands flying to the paperwork you were working on before and it went flying for the most part. Some of it fisted in your hand as your ass arched out and pressed against Ransom's groin, making you hiss when he jerked your hips further back.

“Neil is technically my-” You started when a hand slapped over your mouth, fingers digging into your cheeks roughly.

All of it was turning you on, making your thighs squeeze together and you breathe harshly through your nose the more excited you got. “Don’t say it Kitten. Not right now, this is my time. Remember. I made an appointment.”

You felt your skirt get rucked up around your hips and Ransom leaned over, his chest pressing into your back as he flushed hot kisses on your neck, a yank to your shirt dragged your shirt over your shoulder. It wasn't gentle kisses, it was deep leave his mark there that was making you tilt your head and push back into him once more while he fumbled with his own pants to yank them open.

“Yes, yes your appointment. Did you miss this pussy?” You purred, mimicking the nickname you had earned. His fingers pushed aside the bit of cotton that was now sticky clinging to your folds and he stroked you with precision, spreading your slick all around till he swirled a finger against your clit.

“Enough to come searching your ass out.” He remarked when you felt his cock take over where his fingers were, thicker, velvet hardness in your soft folds make you mewl while gripping your desk's edge.

It was the right call, as soon as Ransom felt you start to take him, he pressed harder. Making you both hiss, your head falling against your desk as he stretched you open, his cock filling you quickly. His teeth sunk into your shoulder, registering the sting of it when he rutted into you, slamming your hips into the desk suddenly. “Fuck Ransom,” You hissed out and bit your lip to stifle a moan.

“This perfect round ass that is so fuckable.” His hand came against a cheek while his hips slammed into you steadily. Jerking you on the desk. But it all felt so good, the stink of the slap making you tighten around his cock while you gave a yelp in protest.

Again his hand came around your mouth, stuffing fingers in your mouth which you wrapped your lips around and sucked on them, making your eyes roll when you tasted yourself on them. “Shut it Kitten, suck yourself off me like a good girl while I fill this perfect cunt.” Ransom snapped his teeth near your ear. You moaned, trying to confirm that you would, you would do just as he said while he fucked you harshly from behind.

It clouded your mind, forgetting everything you had been stressed about all morning. Ransom's cock pounded into your wanting body like it was all you ever needed. Your smooth walls flexed around him, tightening till you felt the throbbing ridges that dragged and pulled through you.

It wasn't just his cock driving you mindless. It was the grunted words in your ear. “Perfect little clock slut, Kitten you love getting fucked on your desk don’t you?” He hissed in your ear as another drive made you moan incoherent at him. “Just so cock drunk slut, who is too stupid to answer me.” A tongue was dragged on your tongue, kisses right at the hinge of your jaw made you whine and press back against him. He knew that it drove you crazy to feel the flush of his lips along your neck, driving you mindless. “Just my sweet little Kitten taking it so well.”

All you could do was mewl around his fingers stuffed in your mouth, drool escaping from the corners of your stretched lips and dribbling on the paperwork you had crumpled in your fists. Your chest pressed harshly against the desk, making you wheeze under Ransom’s weight. It was smothering, him all over caging you against the furniture, pumping his cock harshly into your core and your mouth stuffed with his fingers keeping you quiet.

It was too much and not enough, cause you still weren't quite there. The heat burned in your belly, wanting to implode you into oblivion. Ransom gritted his teeth as he wedged a hand under you, fingers feeling for your throbbing clit that ached for his touch.

The roll of his fingers made you moan at the tension. The rush made your spine snap and fight against Ransom, which he felt as you squealed in protest, his teeth snapping near you while he sputtered.

“Just fucking cum Kitten, then you can relax. Your boss will be back any time now.” Nearby you glanced at your phone that somehow was still on the table, the time wavering in your sight, as well as some ‘Where are you?’ texts from Neil.

Ransom wanted you to relax and cum, which is what you wanted as well. The numbing release was right there with his help and you let go. The wave was mind blanking. You sagged under Ransom, and he tightened his hold on you as he used you. But you were in bliss as he grunted over you, hot shots of cum filling you while he sagged in relief against you.

Jerks of his cock still quivered your sensitive walls as he took a few last slow pumps into you before he plated his hands against your messy desk and pulled himself up, pulling out of your messy cunt.

“Gonna have to go the rest of the day like that Kitten.” He chuckled as he straightened your panties back in place and pulled your skirt down over your ass. His hand went around your waist and he helped guide you back to a stand to face him. Brushes of his thumbs over your face was an attempt to fix your makeup which made you wince while you rubbed the drool from your chin.

“How bad is it?”

Ransom winced when you asked. “Pretty bad… looks like you've been crying… or got properly fucked. Take your pick.” He said as his hands dropped to pull his pants back in place and zip them back up, the button going back through the loop.

It was unfair that Ransom didn't get completely ruined like you did when this sort of thing happened. You rushed around your desk to grab some wet wipes to wipe the smudged lipstick and mascara off.

‘You know… I never have this problem with Neil.” You muttered and Ransom snapped back as he watched you, leaning down to pick up some of the papers that fell and shuffle them together while you did a quick reapplication so no one would question it.

“Kitten, obviously the man isn't fucking you right then.” A smirk flashed up at you as he handed you your papers and you were quick to tuck them away.

You broke into a small dirty smile, a roll of your eyes playing with him. “Well… you are correct in that Ransom. Now split, Johanna will be back soon.”

“Nope." A pop of the p that made you huff at him. "I have an appointment Y/N.” He swept down into a seat just as Johanna clicked open the door and stepped back in.

“Y/N, did you have a good lunch? I didn’t expect to see you back so soon. But I was told my next client is here.” She glanced towards the corner of the room where Ransom was picking at his sweater. “Mr. Drysdale, come on in with me, please? We will get started.” She smiled warmly as she went around your desk to let herself into her office, Ransom moving to a stand with a chipper.

“Absolutely, thrilled to get started. Y/N here has been a perfect host in the meantime.” He winked at you with a light brush of his fingers along your arm before disappearing into Johanna’s office, the door shutting behind them.

You could only begin to guess what Ransom was up to coming all the way here. Which you would find out later, either from Ransom or Johanna.

Right now you had to deal with standing up Neil, which when you picked up your phone, chewing your lip that you still could taste yourself on from Ransom’s fingers, you read the message.

Y/N, where are you? I have been waiting for an hour for you.

You started to text out your lie of an excuse hoping that this wouldn't be the day it would all blow up in your face.

[a-simple-gaywitch]

“I’m SO Fired”

Spencer Reid x Reader

Summary: Spencer falls in love with Dave Rossi’s adopted daughter

Word Count: 2038

Warnings: canon-typical violence, mentions of brutal case, mentions of death of parents, that’s it. it’s mostly fluff

“Don’t tell me the moon is shining; show me the glint of light on broken glass.” -Anton Chekhov

~

Spencer was leaning over Emily’s desk, helping her with some details of her paperwork. He glanced up and noticed a beautiful woman briefly talking to Anderson before entering through the glass doors. 

“Reid. Reid!” Emily said, snapping her fingers to get his attention. 

“What? Oh, sorry.”

Emily shook her head. “And just like that, 187 gets slashed to 60.”

The woman walked over to the desk with the two. “Uh, hi,” you said. “Is Dave Rossi here?”

“Oh, um, he should be here. Did you- do you have a meeting with him?” Spencer asked. 

“Kind of,” you said with a small laugh that made Spencer’s stomach flutter. “I’m-”

“(Y/N)!” Hotch said when he saw you. 

“Aaron!”

Emily and Spencer exchanged glances as you gave Aaron a brief hug. 

“Are you here to see your dad?” he asked you. 

“Yeah, is he here?”

“He should be in his office. How long are you in town?”

“Just the weekend,” you said. “But I’m coming back in June for vacation.”

“Well, I’ll let you go see your dad,” Hotch said. As you walked up the stairs, he turned to see Spencer gawking at you. Emily looked at Hotch apologetically. Hotch sighed and said, “Reid, focus on your paperwork, not (Y/N) Rossi.”

~

You knocked on the office door, waiting to hear your father’s voice. 

“Come in!” You pushed open the door and your adoptive father’s face lit up. “Tesorina!” he said, getting up to kiss your cheeks. “I was wondering when you were getting in. How’s work? And what about that boyfriend of yours? Anything-”

“Dad,” you said, cutting him off. “I’ll tell you everything you want to know at dinner. But you promised you’d introduce me to your team the next time I was in town.”

“I did promise that, didn’t I?” he said, pushing up from his desk. He slung his arm around your shoulder and steered you out of his office. The team was gathered in the bullpen, and they all turned to face Rossi when he cleared his throat. “Guys, this is my daughter, (Y/N).” He then introduced each team member to you, save for Aaron.

“Wow, Rossi, I didn’t know you even had a daughter,” Morgan said. 

“Gee, Dad, you don’t talk about me to your coworkers? I’m hurt,” you said, pressing your hand over your heart. 

Rossi rolled his eyes. “Drama queen.”

“So, you’re a Rossi?” Emily asked you. 

“Not biologically. Dave adopted me when I was five,” you explained.

“Initially, I was just fostering her for a little while, but I fell in love with this little rascal,” he said, ruffling your hair.

You set about fixing your hair. “Well, I gotta run. See you at the house for dinner?”

“Yeah, I should be done around 6. Don’t get into trouble.”

“Me, get into trouble? When have I ever been known to do that?” You shot a wink at the man you now knew to be Dr. Reid before leaving the BAU.

Spencer’s cheeks turned pink and he felt Rossi’s eyes on him. He looked down at his desk, busying himself with organizing his pen cup. When he heard Rossi’s office door close, he let out a breath he hadn’t known he’d been holding. 

Derek rolled his chair over to Spencer’s desk. “You’re looking a little flushed there, Pretty Boy. That wouldn’t have anything to do with Ms. Rossi, would it?”

“Shut up, Morgan,” he muttered, focusing on folding a small piece of paper on his desk into even smaller squares.

~

Dave walked into his house (mansion) to the smell of garlic bread and tomato sauce. He smiled and set his coat on the rack by the door. 

“You know, I would have cooked!” he called as he made his way to the kitchen. You were setting the table for the both of you. 

“Yes, but how often do you actually cook?” you asked him as you poured two glasses of red wine. “You’re always away on cases, I know how much fast food and takeout you eat. Now shut up and enjoy my carbonara.”

Dave chuckled and sat down at the table across from you. “So, how’s work going?” he asked you. 

You shrugged. “You know, there’s good days and bad days. We had a brother and his little sister get adopted together this week, which is always one of the big wins for us.”

He nodded. “What about that boyfriend of yours, Chad?”

“Oh, we broke up,” you said. “About a month ago.”

“Good, I didn’t really like him.”

“Dad, you say that about every guy I date.”

“And it’s true, I haven’t liked any of the guys you’ve dated.”

“Yeah, the only guys you’ve liked have been the ones you’ve tried to set me up with.”

“That’s not true!”

“Dad, remember Stephen?”

“I thought you would be a good match, honest. And before you say it, it’s not just because I’m overly protective.”

“So, we can admit you’re overprotective of me?” you said. 

“Of course I am. And can you blame me?”

“I guess not,” you said with a shrug. “And you could be worse. I could still be living here.”

“Oh, come on. Would that be so bad, having a huge house mostly to yourself?”

“Well, no, but I like living in Pennsylvania,” you said. “And I like having an apartment.” Your father gave you a skeptical look. “Stop profiling me.”

“Sorry, it’s hard to turn it off.” He took a sip of his wine. “You’re planning to go to the cemetery tomorrow, aren’t you?”

“I do every year, you know that.”

“Yeah. They’d be so proud of you, you know.”

You smiled down at your plate and pushed the pasta around. “I know. I, uh, I don’t have many memories of them anymore,” you said. “But the one I’ve been trying to get rid of is still there.”

Dave reached across the table and grabbed your hand. “Hey. Your parents loved you, so much. That’s all you need to remember, okay? They loved you so much that they sacrificed themselves for you.”

“Yeah.”

You lost your parents when you were five. There was a serial killer in the Greater DC Area, a family annihilator. He’d called himself the Orphan Maker. The man would seek out young families with kids no older than 8 and kill the parents first, in front of the children. Then he would kill the children. 

Rossi had been on that case, and had found that your family was the next target. Unfortunately, they did not get to your family before the man killed your parents. But fortunately, they caught him before he could get you. 

Rossi felt guilty they didn’t make it in time. When the law officers found that you didn’t have any family to take you in, Dave offered to bring you home. The plan was to originally just be a foster parent to you until CPS found a place for you to stay officially. But he fell in love with you. You were a little spitfire, a little troublemaker. Dave adopted you and dedicated the rest of his life to taking care of you and protecting you.

~

“Hey, Rossi!” Morgan said as he met the man in the kitchen to get coffee. “How was your weekend with (Y/N)?”

Rossi noticed Reid’s back straighten at the mention of (Y/N)’s name. He smiled to himself, a plan forming in his head. It was a bit of a convoluted plan, but it would work out for everyone in the end. 

“Oh, it was fine. She made me watch an episode of that show Reid and Garcia like.” He glanced over at Spencer’s desk and noticed he was listening intently. “I agreed since she’s still recovering from a recent breakup.”

“Is she okay?” Derek asked. “I know breakups can really suck.”

“She’ll be okay, she bounces back quick. I didn’t like the guy anyway. He was a meathead jock who thought being the high school quarterback was his entire personality. I want her to find a guy who’s smart and kind, someone I like.” He walked out of the kitchenette and passed Reid’s desk. He clapped his shoulder. “Morning, Reid.”

~

You were back in the area for a week-long vacation, and Dave had promised to go sight-seeing in DC with you. 

You walked into the bullpen and were greeted by Penelope, who had quickly become your friend. She wrapped you in a hug before Rossi made his way over to you. 

“Hey, Dad. You ready to go?” you asked after giving him a hug.

“Um, actually, I have to work late. But, you know, Dr. Reid here,” Spencer’s head snapped up from where he was packing his bag at the mention of his name, “knows more about the area than anyone I know. He can show you around. Right, Reid?”

Spencer looked like a deer caught in the headlights. He cleared his throat. “Uh, yeah. Yeah, sure.”

You smiled at him and Spencer felt the butterflies that were already in his stomach go crazy. The two of you walked out of the office, Spencer nervously gripping the strap of his bag while you walked alongside him. 

Penelope looked at Rossi narrowing her eyes. “You don’t have to work late.”

Rossi smiled. “No.”

Penelope gasped. “You’re trying to set them up, aren’t you?”

“I will neither confirm nor deny,” Rossi said before walking back to his office. 

~

“So, Dr. Reid,” you said as the two of you walked out of the FBI building, “I heard you’re a huge Doctor Who fan.”

Spencer turned to look at you, losing his footing and tripping on the sidewalk. He straightened himself up and cleared his throat. “You, uh, you can call me Spencer. And yeah, I’m-I’m a fan.”

You smiled and Spencer thought the sun had come out again with the brightness you radiated. “Who’s your favorite? Personally, I’m a Tennent girl, but Baker is a close second.” Spencer was staring at you, his jaw dropped. “What?”

“You might be the hottest girl I’ve ever met.”

~

When Spencer woke up, the first thing he noticed was the beautiful woman asleep next to him, her head on his bare chest. He smiled and ran his hand through your hair as you started stirring.

“Morning,” he said as you looked up at him, resting her chin on his chest. 

“Morning, Pretty Boy.” You saw his smile falter and his eyes go wide. “What’s wrong?”

“I’m so fired,” he said. “I slept with my boss’s daughter. I’m so fired. No, I’m more than fired. I’m dead. Rossi is going to kill me.”

“Hey. Spence, breathe,” you said, cupping his face in your hands. “He’s not going to do anything to you. And if he tries, he’ll face my wrath.”

Spencer chuckled. “Well, after that guy drove through that puddle and splashed you last night, I believe it.” He was silent for a moment as the two of you sat up in the bed. Spencer wrapped his arms around you, pulling your back to his chest. “What are you going to tell him when you go home?”

You shrugged, leaning your head back. “The truth. I got to know a sweet guy last night and I stayed the night at his place.”

Spencer smiled and gave you a soft kiss.

~

You slipped into the Rossi Manor, feeling like a teenager missing curfew again. You got about halfway through the kitchen before hearing Dave clear his throat. You spun around to see him standing by the kitchen island with a cup of coffee. 

“Oh, uh, morning, Dad.”

“So, you were out all night.”

“Yep.”

“And you’re wearing the same clothes.”

“Uh-huh.”

“Who is he?” When you didn’t answer, he said, “Spencer?”

Your face paled. “How did-”

“You didn’t really think you could hide that from an old profiler, did you?” He handed you the mug. “Don’t worry, I approve. I’d be more than happy to have Spencer as a son.”

“Dad!”

~

“I would rather share one lifetime with you than face all the ages of this world alone.” - J.R.R. Tolkien