#Officer Deadbeat

[verseandrhyme]

happy birthday 𝖌𝖎𝖗𝖑 𝖋𝖆𝖎𝖑𝖚𝖗𝖊, (muffled through the mysteriously horned helmet

"Excuse me?!" She had not expected her birthday to be acknowledged at all. She had imagined something like this even less.

"You...I...." What is she supposed to say to something like that!?

Nothing, she decided. Instead, she just raised her hand and allowed the blizzard spell to frost over the stupid, unnecessary helmet before turning away with a huff. Unbelievable.

[barstoolblues]

being an adult stoner in your parents basement is all fun and games until the heater stops working 😖

[boneblushed]

Ignorance by infatuation

synopsis A detective behaves lewdly with you. Aaron Hotchner gets uncharacteristically jealous.

wc 1.7k

a/n omg my first Hotch fic ever hehe 🤭 feedback and love always appreciated, still trying to find my Crim Minds voice!

It’s 8 o’clock in the morning, the air sultry and verdant, rain soaked leaves underfoot. 

Aaron Hotchner frowns. Petrichor and dew mean evidence awash. He pauses to squint up at the sky, muddy grey with isolated streaks of yellow dawn.

You’re acutely aware of Spencer’s eyes on you as you walk past Hotch, and give yourself a mild headache by focussing too hard on the commotion ahead. The rest of the team don’t seem to notice the tension between you and SSA Hotchner. Or perhaps they do, and the pair of you are just too stubborn to admit it.

It’s been lurking under the surface for a while now, this perplexing pull between you. Lingering glances, raised eyebrows, irises spooled with tendrils of static. A hand pressed against your back every time he scoots behind you, like an excuse. He doesn’t do that with Emily. None of the other agents. A frown that tends to yield when your gaze catches his.

Or hardens when someone acts a little lewder than is appropriate.

Like the other day, for example, when he’d overheard you on the phone with some deadbeat cop in the Dallas area. (He’s probably being unfair. He probably isn’t even a deadbeat. It’s just that anyone that flirts with the idea of your favour is going to be unworthy in comparison, even Agent Hotchner.)

The phone had rung in the middle of your exchange, and you’d answered it immediately, mouthing apologies in its place. Aaron Hotchner remembers the shine of gloss on your lips, the ways your fingers clasped the phone to your ear, gentle but firm. Remnants of peach coloured polish on your nails.

“Yes, this is she,” you’d answered, mouthing another apology to him. “How can I help you?”

You’d come into his office a few minutes prior to discuss something media strategy; Hotch didn’t have a mind for it, he much preferred giving you all the reins. He recognised how strange this was for a control freak as prolific as him. You were different though, he’d attest. It was a sentiment as dangerous, as non-platonic, as the feelings making home in his ribcage.

“Right,” you’d said, pulling your spiral-bound notebook out of your pocket. You’d wedged your phone between your ear and shoulder, slipping your pen out of your breast pocket and clicking it against it. Hotch felt unseasonably hot at such attention to your chest. He raised his eyebrows inquisitively, trying to catch your gaze.

“Ah, I see, yes that does sound like our area of expertise,” you’d continued, and then a pause, an awkward, unwieldy laugh. Still beautiful. “No, yes, our is correct — I am in fact part of the team.” Another pause; this time, you’d rolled your eyes when your laugh spooled out of your pretty mouth. He didn’t recognise it. “I don’t know about that. Should we get back to the case at hand? Great.”

Hotchner’s eyebrows had lowered then, furrowing into an expression of concern, flailing interest. Not jealousy. He was pretty certain he knew all your laughs, the cadence of them, the syrupy timbre. This one was new. You sounded uncomfortable, as though something said over the phone had abraded you somehow. As his eyebrows had, his heart had sunk into his stomach. He remembers the strain of his forearm muscles against his clenched knuckles.

“Sure. Yes. As soon as I have all the details I’ll be able to distribute them. Great, yes, we’ll see you soon, I’m sure. Thank you. Goodbye.”

And that had been that. Hotch hadn’t had the stomach to ask after the details, especially not when you’d seemed so eager to put it behind you.

After ending the call, you’d shaken your head and proclaimed, “Don’t ask,” launching back into your spiel about media strategy like it hadn’t happened. Hotch wasn’t in the business of disagreeing with you; pressing things. Saying no. It wasn’t lost on him that he used the word liberally with everyone else he knew.

Back at the scene, Hotch stays a few steps behind the team. He knows that Spencer’s assessing eyes will see right through his faux contemplation; Hotchner knows, from the many frowns Spencer’s eidetic memory has learned, that the expression on his face will be recognised as distraction.

He needs to focus. He needs you near. He needs to keep his eye on the ball. He needs deadbeat detective far away from here.

As you and the BAU team near the crime scene, a rugged looking cop pulls away from his colleagues. He has eyes like treacle tart and a grin that borders on a smirk. A toothpick hangs from his mouth like something out of a Western.

“Detective Landon?” You say, extending a hand in acknowledgement. “Hello, we spoke on the phone yesterday morning.”

Detective Landon spits the toothpick out of his mouth, maintaining eye contact as he does so. But it isn’t the depth of his gaze that drops yours. You can feel someone else’s eyes searing holes through your skull.

“Well I’ll be,” he drawls, taking your hand and pressing it to his mouth. “Your voice doesn’t do you justice, darling.”

You resist the urge to make a face. It’s awful, unfortunate, but you’re far too used to this. Behind you, Derek raises his eyebrows, sharing an amused look with Emily beside him. Rossi looks exasperated. Spencer’s expression remains unchanged, though he does steal a glance at Hotchner. You smile, the way you always do, refusing to be thrown off by his candour.

“That’s a shame,” you reply breezily, turning to introduce your team. “Detective, this is SSA Morgan, SSA Prentiss, Dr Spencer Reid, and —”

“I’m the unit chief, Supervisory Special Agent Hotchner,” Hotch interrupts, a menacing gravel to his timbre. He doesn’t shake the hand Detective Landon extends to him. The detective draws it back with a gauche bark of laughter, turning his attention to the rest of the BAU.

“My my,” he says, his drawl returning as his eyes meet Emily’s. “What do I gotta do to get in on this team of yours?”

“A formal education would be helpful,” Spencer supplies, squinting at him through his glasses.

Detective Landon turns to him then, raising his eyebrows. “Doctor Reid, was it?”

“It is, but no need to aim that high, buddy,” Morgan says then, stepping forward and patting him on the shoulder. Landon winces. “Now. You going to talk us through what you guys got so far or what?”

“Damn, y’all are a feisty bunch, huh?” He replies, pulling another toothpick out of his breast-pocket. He sends you a wink that makes Hotch’s insides turn, adding, “Don’t mind it on you, sweetheart, but maybe the rest of the BAU ‘oughta play nice.”

Aaron Hotchner would normally agree with his sentiment. He’s been a long time advocate of working alongside the local police in investigations; he recognises that collaboration is far more productive than condescension.

Unfortunately for him, this isn’t quite a normal situation.

Things to do with you and other men rarely are. An ugly green emotion eases his heart right into his throat.

“Or maybe,” Hotchner says crisply, his steely gaze pinning Landon to the spot, “I should have a chat with your Captain and take you off this case.”

Landon balks. “Sir —”

“You’re dismissed,” Hotchner interrupts, not wanting to hear it. He’s unaware of the amused look Emily and Morgan share behind him.

“You…” Landon trails off exasperatedly, shaking his head, “…you can’t dismiss me. This is my case.”

“Actually, it’s the BAU’s case now.” He turns to you expectantly. You think you catch his gaze soften as it falls over your face in paces. Trick of the light, you suppose. “Right?”

“Sure,” you say weakly.

“Right then. Rossi?” Hotch says then, turning to David Rossi autocratically. “Why don’t you and the team go ahead and assess the scene while I head to base and sort out a reassignment.”

“Not you, Reid,” he adds, keeping Spencer in place. “You can come to the station with me, get our replacement up to speed. Sound good?”

Morgan’s trying hard to hide his knowing grin, one side of his mouth upturned with mirth. Emily isn’t bothering to pretend she doesn’t know what’s going on, her pretty features lit up with amusement. Detective Landon looks mortified. Your cheeks feel on fire.

“Alright,” Rossi says after pause, glancing between you and Hotchner. He’s been in the FBI for long enough now that he’s learnt to pick his battles.

He turns around and begins walking toward the crime scene, the three of you trailing behind him with less purposeful strides.

“Huh,” Derek says, faux-thoughtful. You’re wedged between him and Emily, much to your chagrin. “Wonder what that was about. Any ideas, SSA Prentiss?”

“Well, SSA Morgan,” Emily replies, her smile audible. “I’m afraid that our dear old unit chief has a bit of a soft spot.”

“A soft spot?” Derek echoes, letting out a dramatic gasp. “That’s dangerous in our line of work, wouldn’t you say?”

“I would say,” Emily responds sagely.

“Oh shut up, you two,” you mutter, crossing your arms over your chest. “That wasn’t just about me. He made a pass on Emily too.”

Emily snorts, shaking her head exasperatedly. “Hey Rossi, you got a name for this phenomenon?”

“Oh yeah,” Rossi replies without hesitation, his gaze trained ahead of him. “Ignorance by infatuation.”

Out of earshot, Spencer and Hotchner are having a similarly painful conversation.

“Strange,” Spencer decides, breaking the silence with his candour.

Aaron knows what he’s insinuating. He resists the urge to turn around and steal another glance at your pretty silhouette. “He was behaving inappropriately. There’s nothing strange about it, Spencer. I was protecting my team.”

“The whole team?”

“Yes.”

“Including me?”

“Yes.”

“But I liked him.”

Hotchner sends him an incredulous look. “And what exactly was there to like?”

“He was entertaining, I think,” Spencer replies casually, shrugging. “In a cop way, you know? Plus, I love listening to Y/N reject men. It’s fascinating.”

Hotchner swallows. “Fascinating?”

“She always does it in this way where they don’t even realise what exactly’s happening,” Spencer explains matter-of-factly. He turns to Aaron Hotchner then. “Don’t worry, though, she’d never do that to you.”

Hotchner’s traitorous heart leaps, his mouth pulling into a paradoxical frown. “Spencer,” he warns.

“Just saying,” Spencer replies, raising his arms in surrender.

“Well,” Hotch says grumpily, “don’t.”

“Alright. Noted.”

[theostrophywife]

stalker! theo who falls for a pretty little ravenclaw after you run into him in the hall, flustered and frenzied as your books and parchment spill out of your hands.

stalker! theo who listens to his raven mumble apologetically, rambling about deadlines and deadbeat project partners who left you to complete an assignment all alone.

stalker! theo who watches in fascination as you scramble to get yourself sorted, apologizing and sniffling for running into him.

stalker! theo who stares at your pretty doe eyes filled with tears, lower lip trembling as you timidly take the papers that he's gathered and organized for you.

stalker! theo who smirks at the little flush that creeps up your neck when your fingers brush together. your voice a quiet little rasp as you murmur, thank you, theo.

stalker! theo who is a little surprised that you even know his name, mesmerized at how pretty you look when you cry, leaning down to fluster you a little more before he whispers, you're welcome, little raven.

stalker! theo who honest to merlin felt his heart stop when you reward him with a smile. a shy little smile that has him hooked from that day forward.

stalker! theo who finds your deadbeat partner and threatens him into pulling his weight or else he'll pull his intestines out of his body if he makes theo's little raven cry again.

stalker! theo who can't help but smile when you grin at him in the halls, waving shyly as you pass by with your group of friends who tease you as you blush prettily for him.

stalker! theo who starts to crave you more than cigarettes. who asks anything and everything about you. finding out your class schedule, your dorm number, your favorite spots in hogsmeade.

stalker! theo who watches you study in the library, hiding behind stacks and stacks of books, keeping an eye on his pretty raven as you recite facts under your breath, anxiously biting down on your lip and tapping the end of your quill against your chin when you come across a particularly hard question.

stalker! theo who follows you all the way back to your dorm, making sure you get in safely. lurking in the shadows as you cautiously look over your shoulder, pretty eyes alert and ready as you squint in the darkness.

stalker! theo who finds a sick thrill in watching you shiver as your gaze passes over his hiding spot, eyes unfocused and glazed as you gloss over him in the darkness of the castle, steps picking up as you climb your way up ravenclaw tower, answering the door’s riddle whilst clutching your wand closer to your chest.

stalker! theo who waits until you're good and settled, because he knows how long your bedtime routine is, knows you like to shower and stick to your skincare routine religiously before tucking yourself into bed and cuddling your little stuffie to sleep.

stalker! theo who lets himself into your dorm with a master key he nicked from dumbledore's office, sneaking quietly into your room and making himself right at home.

stalker! theo who nosily flickers through the knickknacks on your desk, all perfectly lined up in neat little rows, which he returns them to before sauntering over to your bookshelves and tracing over the notes and lines that you'd scribbled onto the worn, yellow pages.

stalker! theo who hovers by your bed, brushing a stray strand of hair from your face and smiling as he watches you sleep peacefully, all snuggled up in bed. thumb brushing over your cheek as he presses his lips against yours in a sweet little peck before whispering, sweet dreams, my pretty little raven.

stalker! theo who freezes when you stir, fingers reaching for him in the dark, while you softly murmur in your sleep. please, theo. the bulge in his trousers growing while you moan and whimper so desperately. desperate for him.

stalker! theo who exhales a shaky breath, knowing that it's wrong, so wrong to invade your privacy like this, but he just can't help himself. you bring out the addictive, compulsive side to him and he's obsessed.

stalker! theo who is pilfering through your dresser, pulling out a pair of your pretty lace pink panties. who knows how fucked up it is to touch himself like this even as he unbuckles his belt and pulls his boxers down, wrapping your panties around his cock before stroking himself, getting off on listening to your pretty little sounds, still moaning his name in your sleep.

stalker! theo who is panting and gasping as he pumps himself while a choked groan crawls up his throat. he tries to tamper down his noises by biting his lip, canines sinking into his bottom lip so hard that he’s breaking skin and drawing blood. watching as crimson dots stain you bedsheets, wishing he could leave them there to mark his territory.

stalker! theo who finishes all over your pretty panties, covering the lace in his cum while you continue to dream, blissful and unaware of the filthy, dirty way he’d wanked himself off right beside you.

stalker! theo who leans down to murmur, fuck. you don’t know what you do to me, principessa. i fucking adore you. i’d do anything for you. there’s no limit to the lengths i’d go to just to make you smile. theo sighs, kissing your temple. you’re mine, cara mia. even if you don’t now it yet. i promise that you will soon, y/n. i’ll make you mine no mater what it takes.

stalker! theo who lingers by the door cause he can’t help but sneak one last glance at you. smiling softly, he watches adoringly as you snuggle your stuffie closer. his heart threatens to burst at the precious sight and in that moment theo knows. he’d do anything for you. he’d kill for you. he’d die for you. but for now, he has to settle for the memory of your soft rasp, saying his name over and over again like a prayer.

stalker! theo who leans against the doorway, slipping your pretty pink panties into his pocket for safekeeping before whispering softly in the darkness, goodnight, my pretty little raven.

[wysteria-bloom]

▨ "our child is an angel"

JJK characters when called into teacher's office about their child

Characters : gojo, toji, nanami, sukuna

Genre : fluff, crack

Warnings : I use female pronouns

A/n : Toji is not a deadbeat dad in this one because yeah. Wish he was canonical a hot dilf but we can never get what we want where Gege is concerned 😟

⟢ gojo satoru ␥

"When your son was asked to wait to go to the bathroom, he replied 'I will pee on your floor then bitch.'" The teacher spoke solemnly.

Satoru immediately snorted which you gave him a death glare for, pinching his thigh harshly.

You frowned," Well, before I question why the teacher denied bathroom privileges..." you turned to your husband. Your son was pouting next to you both, looking away with narrowed eyes," That doesn't sound like him at all, does it Satoru?"

Satoru immediately agreed with you, shaking his head," N-no. Not at all. Who taught you that language, kiddo?"

His son looked at him with a betrayed expression, pointing at him accusingly "YOU did!" He exclaimed.

Satoru's smile was pained as you slowly turned your head to him, eyebrows furrowing,"... Thank you for your time, Mrs. Fiyumi. I will have a stern talking. With BOTH of them." Then you gave her the brightest smile," I think it's all the candy they've been eating, I think maybe it's time to cut down on it all, yeah?"

The teacher nodded in agreement with a knowing smile," Yes, I agree."

The two males simultaneously slouched back into their chairs with loud groans which they covered up with coughs when you glared at them.

Satoru mustered a charming grin, settling a loving hand on your shoulder," I've been meaning to go on a diet anyways, haha..."

You rolled your eyes and patted his hand with yours in a pitying way," shut up, my love."

"Dad! Grow a backbone, you lanky idiot!" Your son scoffed out disapprovingly.

The white-haired man's charming grin fell instantly and he glared beneath his glasses," shut up you-"

⟢ nanami kento ␥

"Yes, your daughter got into a fight with one of the boys and managed to split his lip." The teacher gestured to the little girl in the chair who was sitting oh so politely.

Nanami hummed lowly, brows furrowed," not good." He said with that disappointed drawl to his tone that could make anybody curl into themselves with shame, his own daughter cringing to herself.

You merely raised a brow at your daughter," That right? So she won?" You asked bluntly.

A warm hand settled on your knee, squeezing lovingly and as a warning," not the point, love." Nanami grunted out disapprovingly.

The girl grinned with her cute gap-tooth, blue eyes glinting with pride as she looked to her mother," I won!!" She chirped," he pulled my hair so I split his lip!"

Her parents stared on in silence before Nanami gave her a small smile filled with warmth," Good girl."

⟢ ryomen sukuna ␥

"Your daughter punched Midori-"

Sukuna held up a hand," Don't need to hear it. Let's go." He began to stand up, tugging his little girl by the hood of her hoodie.

You shook your head in disapproval at your husband and looked to the teacher," I'm sorry, can you give me more context?"

Sukuna scoffed," Babe. Its obviously about that rich kid again. The little shit who bullies her? Yeah. Don't give a fuck. I'm proud of my fuckin' daughter." He glared at the teacher and walked out of the room with his daughter following anxiously behind.

Your eye twitched before you stood up slowly, offering a pained smile to lighten the load," well, you heard the man. Thanks." You left as well, not before tugging on your husband's ear like a mother and giving your girl a kiss on the forehead and a promise of ice cream.

Sukuna crouched down to her level and pinched his daughter's cheek with a bored expression, eyes glinting in amusement at the sight of her nose scrunching up at the actions," Next time? Put her through endless torture and misery. I can teach you a few techniques--"

You had to step in before your husband created a potential serial killer.

⟢ fushiguro toji ␥

"Megumi got into a fight aga-"

Toji let out an obnoxiously loud yawn, wiping away the sleepy dust from his eyes as his wife fretted over their son's messy black hair.

"Ugh, I swear your hair drives me crazy, Megs. You definitely didn't get it from my genes." You muttered as you tried to smooth out the strands.

Megumi merely sighed and pushed your hands away with an uncomfortable frown etched onto his face," Mom. Listen to Mrs. Fiyumi." He scolded lightly.

"I am, I am." You whined to him, turning to face the teacher with a frown on your lips.

"You too, dad."

Toji blinked at his son before scoffing," I was, I was." He let out a fatherly grunt as he sat straight in his chair, large hand resting on your thigh as he did, looking to the teacher in boredom.

The teacher cleared her throat, giving the small child a thankful nod for keeping his parents in check," As I was saying, little Megumi got into a fight with a boy yesterday. This behaviour seems very unlike him, so I was just worried if there's anything going on at home lately that's stressing him out?"

Megumi's brows furrowed but he didn't open his mouth, sitting politely in his chair. You hummed," Well, I suppose he hasn't been getting a good amount of sleep lately. But that's all I can think of." You settled a hand on your husband's that was caressing your thigh gently.

Toji hummed," just apologise, Megs. An' we'll be on our way." He grumbled to his son, waving his free hand dismissively.

Megumi cleared his throat and stood up, bowing to his teacher, which shocked her a little," I'm sorry, Mrs. Fiyumi. I won't hit anyone again." When he stood to his full-height, he looked her straight in the eye," I hope your failed marriage is getting better." He stated in such a polite and genuine manner.

Toji bursted out laughing - cackling like a witch whilst you stared at your son in complete horror, tugging his hair scoldingly.

[tojisrealwifey]

♡ MAIDS DON'T GET TIRED ♡ — s. gojo

boss!gojo who inherits his deadbeat father's fortune and company after his father's sudden death (which he definitely had a hand in).

boss!gojo who at the ripe age of 20 was already pressured by the workload, not because of the reports or contracts, but because of the old geezers he had to tolerate.

boss!gojo who now lived alone in his 12,000 square meter glass mansion, hired 3 dozen housekeepers after letting go of the ones his father had kept.

boss!gojo who took an immediate interest in the youngest maid of the batch, her being over 5 years older than him.

boss!gojo who likes older women.

boss!gojo who starts making small talk during your working hours. he would ask you to sit with him during lunch making the other maids giggle at the boy.

boss!gojo who is excited when you agree after being asked for the 46th time.

boss!gojo who asks his chef to bring you the same meal as him, which you insist wasn't necessary. he doesn't take no for an answer.

boss!gojo who admires your unpolished table etiquette, but somehow your manners make the food on the table look 100x more appetizing, making him dig in as well.

boss!gojo who wants to spread you out and eat you instead.

boss!gojo who overhears the other maids teasing you with the name 'mrs. gojo' making you scold them with a blushed face. his ears turn red, pants gaining a sudden tightness.

boss!gojo who at late night can't stop fantasizing with his cock in his hand about you becoming 'mrs. gojo'.

boss!gojo who calls you into his office, giving you special tasks around the house. he orders you to clean his office only when he is around.

boss!gojo who doesn't hesitate to give you harder quests, such as cleaning the top shelves of his bookshelf, just to catch a look up your skirt like a perverted teenager (which he was).

boss!gojo who gets a custom uniform made for you to adorn during the time in his private office, one that is deeper on the neckline and shorter on the thighs. he can't stop ogling your breasts.

boss!gojo understands that by now you knew his intentions, not wasting any time to make a move.

boss!gojo who has you bent over his desk, panties clinging to your thighs, holding a tiny vibrator to your clit that has you dripping onto his office floor.

boss!gojo who forces you to clean his office with the bullet vibrator deep inside you, playing with the remote every time you bent over to flaunt your drenched pussy.

boss!gojo who eats you out in pathetic desperation, boxers painted in his precum. at first, he makes precise licks at your labia but he's smothering his face in your pussy seconds later.

boss!gojo who changes dynamics as soon as he's inside you.

boss!gojo who doesn't think twice about going in raw, wishing to feel every crevice of your pussy. he has you in missionary, suckling on your tits to hold his moans.

boss!gojo who is reduced to putty when you switch positions to ride him instead.

boss!gojo who can't help but cry when an accidental 'mommy' slips out of him.

"Ahh fuck you're so fucking sexy, [name]~" his head crashes onto the headboard, the squeaking of the bed loud in the room. Your thighs ached from bouncing on his ridiculously fat cock, his lap covered in your fluids. Wtih your tits jiggling in his face, he lets out a loud moan when you throw in a sudden praise. "So good, 'Toru~ Wanna keep fucking you like this, honey~!" You huff out with lust-filled eyes, your voice dripping with honey. "Please! Please, d-don't stop mommy!" You don't pause, but the kiss on his forehead makes his eyes well up, getting close to his orgasm. He was embarrassed to call you that, but your acceptance of it meant you'd be here for a good while.

boss!gojo who fucks you in every corner of his mansion.

boss!gojo who always finished inside you, birth control or not. he has enough money to provide for every baby he gives you

boss!gojo who revokes your status as a maid and promotes you to fiance in the next four months.

a/n: wasn't gonna post this self-indulgent drabble but after chapter 261...i changed my mind for some reason. wasn't proofread!

・❥・masterlist

・❥・requests : rules

[bruciemilf]

AU where Deadpool and Wolverine is the same except Wade gets a hold of Akihiro somehow. They’d have such a ‘cringe mother who thinks her kid is the best thing in the world/daughter who’s so cool it’s painful and finds her embarrassing but lovable ‘

“You’re like catnip to Wolverines, sugar plum.”

“Have you tried jiggling your keys at him?”

“No time for your entertaining sassy remarks, princess! Come on. Mommy’s gonna get you a daddy.”

Wade isn’t wrong about the catnip thing. Every single Logan they come across gets attached to Aki INSTANTLY. Your honor, that’s his first born. True teenage daughter fashion he just rolls his eyes (and kills)

Worst! Wolverine doesn’t want to hear about it. No way. He’s not gonna tag along to yet another fruitless attempt of saving the world just for it to be in danger again— is that Aki?

“Is that my fucking kid?”

“Uh, OUR kid, honey sweetheart pie—“

“WADE.”

“I’m sorry! I’m the one who dragged him around and suffered his tantrums all the way here, Doctor Deadbeat. I’m not the step dad, I’m the dad who stepped up. “

“I’m going to choke you with your own fucking pubic hair.”

“Aw. Is your lack of creativity bothering you, queen?”

Aki just looks into the camera like he’s in the office.

[repulsiveliquidation]

Alone || Leah Williamson

warnings : mentions of bullying, death, loneliness, rude namecalling. smut is at the end but i promise there is a happy ending. words in bold are from a poem above, but i can't remember who wrote it!

I like being alone was something that you always convinced yourself of growing up. Dad was always high on some binge drinking spree with his equally deadbeat friends and Mum tried her best to be a parent but with a useless father and barely any money coming in, you quickly learned how to keep yourself occupied and take care of yourself.

One day, the police showed up at your door and knocked. Mum stopped folding the laundry and you poked your head in just in time to hear the officers tell your mother that your father had tried to rob the local liquor store and was shot by the police who arrived on the scene. Having been ostracized from the community long ago due to your father’s behavior, the news of his death only increased the cold shoulder you and your mother got from the town.

Parents in your hometown seemed to teach their children bad manners from a young age; all the kids in school knew to stay away from you. No one sat with you at lunch, no one ever wanted you on their team for PE. God forbid you were paired up together for a group project, no one ever wanted your company.

Secondary school was rinse and repeat. No one sat with you at lunch, no one ever wanted you on their team for the science fair. Once, you were assigned the popular girl for the English project which was 25 percent of the class grade.

“You’re doing the whole thing yourself and you better not screw with my portion of the project, you got that you freak?” Megan warned, having cornered you in the girls’ changing room after class.

“I’d watch that tone if I were you, Meg,” came a voice from the end of the showers where you were cowering.

“Stay out of it Williamson or I’ll sock you!”

“I think you’re the only one about to leave here with a black eye Meg so I’d watch your tone.”

“You’re not defending the freak are you?”

“I’m doing what’s right, I’ve had it to here with your snarky attitude,” Leah challenged, grabbing the bully’s arm and pulling her away from you. “Leave her alone.”

“Fuck you, Williamson! Everyone will know you like the freak!”

“Call her that one more time and I’ll tattoo it across your forehead!”

Megan leaves the changing room with a loud huff and you hide yourself more in the shower cubicle. You’d never interacted with Leah Williamson before. You knew to stay far away from the popular girls and the captain of the girls’ football team was one of them.

Leah smiles kindly and reaches a hand out for you. You don’t take it immediately, half expecting her to make fun of you and demand you do her homework for her. Leah realizes this and shakes her head a little, sitting on the floor with you. You’re about to ask her to leave when she opens her mouth first.

“I’m sorry about her and all of them. You don’t deserve to be treated like that.”

“I’m used to it,” you mumble, pulling your legs to your chest and hugging them.

“I’m Leah.”

“I know who you are,” you answer quickly, pushing yourself up to your feet. “You don’t have to pretend to be nice to me,” you say just as the tears threaten to fall. You do not need Leah to see them, it’ll give her one more thing to tell everyone about.

You grab your torn backpack and rush out of the changing room before she can answer you.

Leah stands there a little hurt, her efforts of extending an olive branch failing only motivate her more. She knew about the whole scandal or whatever it was that happened all those years ago but learned at a very young age that Amanda hated it all.

“You treat that family with the same respect you give everyone else, Leah you understand? No one deserves such unkind neighbors.”

You do not know what compelled you to sit in the stands of Leah’s football game against a rival school. There was a ticket in your locker with a note hoping to see you there. Thinking it was a prank, you wanted to throw it away but decided against it, which meant that the cloudy England sky and shitty concession food was your plan for the afternoon.

“Hi, you got my ticket!”

You had your eyes glued to your phone, your hat pulled down over your eyes to block out the stares you normally got. But that familiar thick local accented voice rang loud in front of you, you looked up to see Leah grinning at you with her mother Amanda right behind her.

“You put the ticket in my locker?” you asked sheepishly, watching as Amanda sat next to you.

“Yes darling, her father couldn’t make it and she didn’t waste it so she wanted to give it to you.”

You look up at Leah and her grin is almost brighter than it was before. She was all dressed and ready for the game, hand reaching out to pat your head before running back onto the pitch.

“I’m so glad you’re here, I hope you stay the whole game!” she yelled out, jogging towards the rest of her teammates.

“She didn’t have to give me the ticket,” you mumble under your breath. More people are staring now, you could feel it. Amanda reached around your shoulders and rubbed your back, smiling down at you.

“No, but she insisted.”

Leah was relentless in her pursuit of you. There were more notes in your locker that were not malicious. They were written in the same writing as the first letter that had a football ticket in it, always signed LW.

Soon the letters became more personalized and directly from Leah. People talked a lot in this town and word got out fast that Leah was making friends with the freak. She didn’t seem fazed, the teasing she could endure; the bullying you normally received almost doubled overnight.

Ever since Leah started giving you the letters in person, all the people who had crushes on her had increased their hatred of you.

You were walking home after one of Leah’s games, headphones in and head down like always. You didn’t see them coming for you and didn’t hear them either. Megan and her girls had followed you the whole way until you turned into a dark alley; it was a shortcut to your house and you’ve never seen anyone else use it before.

Carla pulled your hair first. You turned and before you could defend yourself, Megan slapped you across the face. Alice tripped you as you tried to run away, slipping face-first into a muddy puddle left by the rain that morning. Rebecca, the ring leader, grabs your shoulder and turns you around, eyes seething with anger.

“I have wanted Leah Williamson for a very long time, you pathetic little bitch. What the fuck did you do to her in that bathroom that day when Megan was beating sense into your stupid brain huh?”

“Being a bully isn’t a quality I look for in a girl, Becca.”

Leah stands there with her kit still on and her hair sticking to her forehead. Her hands on her hips and chest heaving suggest she ran all the way here. She looks down at you before stepping towards you and reaching a hand out to you. You take it this time and she pulls you up and into a hug.

“Are you okay?” she asks, brushing your hair out of your face. You nod and she cups your cheek, thumb rubbing over your cheekbone that was slightly red from Megan’s slap earlier.

“What did I say about testing my patience, Rebecca?”

“Leah, she’s the town freak! What could you possibly see in her?”

“Everything I don’t see in you, Becca. What would your mother say if I let it slip over tea next week that her precious girl is a sly little liar? She doesn’t need to know about your little stunt with the principal I walked in on last week now does she?”  

“Don’t you dare!”

“Then you leave her alone,” Leah sternly warns, eyes shooting daggers at the fleeing girls.

“Come on, I’ll take you home. I saw them coming for you after the game and I followed them. I’m glad I found you in time!”

“Why are you being nice to me?”

“I think you know I like you a lot more than you’re letting yourself believe.”

“Why me, Leah?”

She takes your hand and walks towards the main road with you. You see Amanda in the car waiting, shaking her head at the two of you.

“Are you okay, love?” she asks you as you climb into the backseat with Leah. She hasn’t let go of your hand the whole time, rubbing the back of your palm with her thumb gently. You like the feeling of her hot skin on yours, it’s such a simple comfort and you can’t even remember the last time you felt it.

“Yes, Mrs. Williamson. Leah got me in time.”

“Please dear, I’ve told you to call me Amanda.”

“Mum, can she stay over tonight?” Leah chirps, holding your hand tighter. You blush a little, looking at her with a single thought in your head; you deserve to allow yourself a little bit of love.

“My mum is okay with it, I can stay.”

“Great! I’ve put a set of clean clothes in the bathroom for you too so…”

“Thank you, Leah,” you say quietly, eyes avoiding her piercing blue ones.

“Of course.”

The whole night goes by perfectly. Amanda cooks a delicious meal that you shamelessly have three servings of. Since it was a Friday night, Leah insisted on movie night. There were throw blankets and pillows all over the floor but you were hesitant to cuddle close to Leah. Having not made a single friend in years, you were scared that one wrong move could ruin the little bit of joy Leah had given you in such a short period.

Leah however, could not hold herself back anymore and was honestly quite annoyed at you. She had been showing her affection towards you for weeks and you were still hesitant to reciprocate them.

“You don’t like me back, do you? You’re just doing this to be nice.”

You look at Leah in horror. No, no, no! This was not how it was supposed to go.

“Leah,” you start, sitting up. “No one has ever wanted to be my friend my entire life. I have my useless dead father to thank for that. When you started giving me those letters, I genuinely thought you were planning some long term practical joke but tonight you’ve shown me that you truly want to be my friend, maybe more.” Leah sits up too and you continue.

“I’m scared, I haven’t done this in a long time. I don’t want to make a wrong move and scare you away. I want you so bad, if everything you’ve left in your letters is true then I want this, I want us. When you scored that goal last week when you rarely do, you looked at me. You did a hand heart towards me and I genuinely thought you were showing it to someone else in the crowd but you pointed at me.”

Leah had tears in her eyes, the tough captain of the school girls’ football team seemed moved by your words. She leaned in and you let her, pressing your lips to hers. You were sure you felt fireworks and that she did too. Her lips were soft and she loved that you smelled like her body wash.

You pulled away and blinked fast, hoping that she wasn’t a figment of your imagination. By the time you’d blinked about fifty times, she was still there, her stupid smug smile on her face.

“I really like you,” you tell her, head leaning on her shoulder as you turn your attention back to the TV.

“I really like you too,” she whispers, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead as she pulls you into her side.

In the days that come, Leah warned all those who regularly mess with you that they now mess with her too. She also warned that if she caught wind of people calling you names, especially freak, they would go home with it etched across their faces.

\\

You’re sat at the dinner table with Leah in your home years later. Grace is sitting on her playmat, totally engrossed in her building blocks. The sunset pours into the living room and you’ve never been happier in your life.

There’s nothing in your life you’d want to change. You thank your lucky stars that the Lioness sitting in front of you took a chance on you that year in secondary school. Life had only gone up since getting together at 17. You went to college and Leah played for Arsenal. It was hard when you moved for a year to Spain to study but Leah fought hard to make sure the connection was there, flying every other weekend to see you.

The moment you graduated, Leah proposed in front of all your friends. Yes, you made friends! The Spain host family you lived with was more than welcoming and gave you a sense of belonging that you had never felt before. The little community you built for yourself gave you a chance to heal and forgive all those people who wronged young you.

She looked up at you with a face of pure admiration. The ring glimmered in the sun, the diamond was the perfect carat for her perfect girl.

“I have never been surer of anything in my life, will you marry me?”

“Yes!”

\\

You’re both standing at the altar, hands held in front of all your friends and family. The Arsenal and Lioness girls are rowdy in the front, cheering their captain on. She had just shared her vows and it was now your turn.

“When I was little, I convinced myself that I liked being alone. I was always the last to be picked, last to be called, sometimes the teachers forgot about me. By the time I was in secondary school, I had accepted that I was going to be alone all my life. Until I met you,” you look up at Leah and see that she’s already got tears in her eyes. You continue, feeling a little emotional yourself.

“I was sure that you were playing a prank on me, wanting nothing more than to humiliate me in front of everyone like they always did. I waited and waited and nothing happened. You saved me from those girls that day and in the car ride home I knew you were different. For the first time ever, I wanted your company more than my own.”

//

“Don’t stop, please don’t stop…”

“Never, babygirl,” Leah coos, hands gripping your hips from behind as she fucks into your pussy hard. You whine into the mattress and grip the sheets, pushing your ass back into her hips. She angled her hips just right, hitting your sweet spot just enough to send you right off the edge.

“Leah!” you cried, reaching back to hold her strong thigh. She was relentless, pounding you through your orgasm. She flipped you over a minute later, her strap pushed back into your sensitive hole just milliseconds after pulling out. You’re about to squeal about being sensitive when she wraps her hand around your neck so lightly. It’s barely there but her skin on yours sends electric shocks through your system.

You buck up into her and bite your lip, forcing her cock straight into your pussy. She gives you that smug smirk that boils your blood and gets to work, rutting into you with purpose. Her hands knead your breasts religiously, face buried between them in an instant. You cradle her head that rests on you, legs widening for her subconsciously.

Your body submits to her willingly and you can barely think when the hand around your neck gently tightens. Your eyes roll into your head and you grin deliriously, oxygen leaving your head as quickly as it gets there.  

Her hips, although practically laying on you, do not relent, pounding into your pussy obediently. Her harness rubs your clit just right and you can barely make a sound to warn her before you gush all over her cock and your thighs. She squeezes your neck just a little harder than usual and it sends you straight into another orgasm right after the other.

She only slows down when you’re shaking like a leaf and turning a little pale, kissing you gently. You grin and reach out for her, she pulls her harness off and settles between your legs. You pat her head and kiss her forehead, fingers running through her blond hair. She presses kisses all over your neck and you sigh, grateful for the chance at a proper life the woman in your arms had given you.

“I love you, Leah,” you mumble into her hair and you feel the captain mumble her answer into your neck. You giggle and settle into the warm bed with the love of your life, excited to see what life has in store for the two of you.

[chaosandmarigolds]

PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE I NEED THE NEXT PART 🙏🙏🙏

https://www.tumblr.com/chaosandmarigolds/751434497871970304/eek-pt-three-of-i-dunno-how-many-simon-gets

Here ya go pookie! 🤍

Johnny stared at the officer that had very briefly explained the situation to him, his face contorted into some dumbfounded state because there was no way in the seven hells this random woman was telling him that Oliver was going back to his deadbeat half assed dad. He was leaning on the desk, after he had managed to get you calmed down and sat down in his truck, so he figured it was his time to get the story- after all, your words were just sobbed attempts.

“Yer fuckin pulling me leg.”

The officer blinked and frowned, “I’m sorry sir I don’t understand.”

“Ye just jokin me, ‘cause there no way Ollie is goin with tha man."

to that the officer 'tsk'ed and set the folder down on her desk, looking up at him, her face emotionless except for some patronizing smile, "And you said you were with Mister Riley?"

A short pause and Johnny looks around the office, "Can I talk to him?"

--

Ollie sat in the empty conference room, his few toys scattered on the table and the television playing some PBS Kids show with a volume of less than ten. He could hear the people outside of the room, but he didn't understand them, sometimes they would yell, and sometimes it was silent, he couldn't tell anymore. Nor did he care.

He spins in his chair as the door opens and he yelps, "UNCLE SOAPY."

"Ey, laddie," without missing a beat Johnny picks up the boy and looks him over, still in his pjs from the night before, his boots not even laced all the way up and his hair messy, with a huff he gives the officer a glare and sits down at the table again, "Yer mum wanted me to come check on ya."

Ollie frowns to that, "Why-why not she come? I.-Uncle Soapy, can we go home now? I do- it scary here."

--

"Price's, this is Eliza."

"Is th' Captain home?" "Simon! Darling-....oh honey, is everything okay? You sound like-"

"No. Please give John the tell."

--

"Get away from my son."

Johnny stands up when he heard the voice, turning around with Ollie still in his grasp, and unshcokingly he saw a less-than-average man who looked awful mad by his presence. Ollie, after about ten minutes of tears as fallen asleep, his head on his shoulder and happily snoozing.

"Ah, Caleb- 'm Johnny, heard about ya."

"Funny, haven't heard about you." Caleb frowned, slowly moving to get the young boy, "Now if you don't mind I have to take him back home."

Out of habit Johnny took a step back, "Back to his mum, yeah? Cu' tha's his home."

"No, back to Las Vegas, my home."

There was a long silence and then Johnny speaks, "Bloody out of your mind if you think 'll let tha happen."

Caleb almost smiled to that, "Then I’m out of my mind. Now give me my son before I make you."

(....Teee...hee? more of Uncle Soap action in this segment)

[iid-smile]

can't get rid of me , fushiguro toji

a strong legacy to be left behind , chapter one

the series masterlist. | previous | next

cw: profanity, mentions of pregnancy (pills) but filtered for megumi's sake, mentions of violence in prison, you're broke, smoking cigarettes

author's note: sigh... im out of my fluff era 😞 (sorry guys) kinda wanted to write something that i think would actually happen in some sort of alternate jjk universe and um idk how far to go because this kind of stuff does happen in the manga, but writing it feels illegal??? idk...

"mom?" megumi peeks out from around the corner in the hallway. "who was calling?"

another groan escapes your lips, around the fifth one in the last three minutes, and you silence your phone once again. "your— excuse my language, shitty deadbeat dad keeps wanting to call me." you slap your hand across your forehead and lean back on the couch, a small creak coming from somewhere below. "apparently he's getting aggressive in prison. shut off the house phone, but they still found my number..."

your son comes closer to you, and you scoop him up, placing him by your side. he glances up at you, and you swear your fight or flight instincts nearly kicked in, (not that you'd be able to fight of a guy as big as toji anyways) flinching slightly from his sharp gaze. it sucks how he looks so much like his dad, because you loved megumi so much. but the image of that guy was almost too much to bear, and he's the spitting image.

"shitty?" he repeats. for a well-behaved kid, he really doesn't respect your words.

"don't say that megs, it's bad language." you swear around him all of the time, so what's the point in scolding him? "only your mama can say it."

"don't tell me what to do."

wow. okay. why do you feel threatened by a six year old? "damn, you've got his attitude too." you mutter, but you've only got yourself to blame for that. you knew you were never cut out to be a mother, so your ways of parenting weren't the best.

he snuggles closer to you, and you openly accept, moving your free hand to his hair to rub over it. "why can't i see toji?"

ah, this lovely story again. "because he left me as soon as you were born, love." really, you couldn't and didn't want to stop yourself from wrapping him up in your arms, feeling the need to protect him. "at this point, he's dead to me. seems like he doesn't feel the same though... i'm so sick of his ass." you also knew it wasn't good parenting to rant to your child about adult issues, but you've only got him to talk to.

that hug was out of comfort then. why are you lying to yourself?

he looks up at you with an irritatingly cute but blank face. "why?"

"god, i hate how many questions you ask." you speak under your breath once again, looking up at the ceiling from any sort of help from a higher being. the amount of times you've had to family-friendly-ify things that have happened isn't even funny. you're not naturally rated u for universal. it's more embarrassing when he recites those same stories to his teachers, and you get called into the school for a little talk.

yikes... here we go. "he lied when he said he gave me the right magical candy after we visited the stork. tried to make it drop you off back to where babies are made in heaven, but i wanted it to deliver you to me, whether he liked that or not." the story's got to be a little filtered somehow. you'd rather not get yourself in the principal's office again. "you're my little hero; a miracle to me. i would've given up on myself ages ago. your dad is a bad, bad man."

the type that would kill. if he found where you lived, or perhaps where megumi goes to school...

"and now i'm left broke in an apartment that barely functions, yet i still spoil my little hero." you sing-song, leaning your head back. "and with what money? i'm broke as hell, megs. can't even make both of us breakfast in the morning cuz your elementary school is too damn expensive."

"is this my fault?"

"...no. no, baby, of course not." you furrow your eyebrows more, a small pout in your lips. "if anything, you made my situation a bit more fortunate."

it's a selfish way of thinking, using your child to avoid solving your problems, using your child to wail and complain about how much you hate your life, but you've got nothing to lose. nothing to lose except for the one person you love.

you can feel your phone buzzing again.

"you stay here and watch tv, okay? mama's gonna go to the kitchen and talk to her friend." he seems a bit relieved as you let go of him, and you stand up.

you hear him mutter. "it's only playing the news though..." no shit it only plays the news, you can't afford to get a good television company that has any kids shows. that is, unless you wanna get scammed out of all of your money.

begrudgingly, you make your way to the kitchen, confirm that you closed the door completely, and answer the vibrating device. "hello?" you sigh, placing the device over your ear.

the other person on the call replies quickly. "is this miss—"

"yeah, yeah, it is. what the hell do you want?"

"um... we apologise, but we strongly suggest that you come to the prison building. he—" the guy's voice cracks. must be really nervous. "pardon me. he's been physically assaulting other inmates and guards, he doesn't follow orders, he never leaves his cell unless it's to visit the closed visits room. you know, in hopes that you'll come..."

obsessed much? where was this energy six years ago? "that's got nothing to do with me."

"please, ma'am. he won't listen to anyone, and we are unable to place him into special facilities as he doesn't emit any cursed energy." ah, he's begging? that's a first. you never would've thought you'd hear a person who works at a prison begging.

cursed energy, cursed energy, this talk again and again and again. "urgh..." you take a deep breath. your options are limited, and they won't stop calling until they can get that lunatic to calm down... surprise, surprise, you really don't want to go.

but if you were really uninterested in him, wouldn't you have already spent the bail money that's been sat on the counter for ages, neatly concealed in an envelope? wouldn't you have paid off all of your debts already? "will i— hm..." choose your words carefully, goddamn it. "can i get a reward of some sort if i go? money?"

"yes, yes! please do visit. there's nothing we can legally do to him in check anymore." ...you think this guy sounds a little too eager.

damn toji and his "supernatural powers", or else you wouldn't get yourself into this mess. finally, after your moment of silence, you respond. "okay. i'll visit."

"thank you—!" you cut off the line.

"fucking bastard..." you drop your phone on the counter, running your hands through your hair and over your face. "stressing me out for what? you don't even love me." your words turn into whispers. with haste, you rummage through your back pocket, trying to find those last few cigarettes, but as your hands were occupied, your eyes moved over to the ashtray that was collecting dust on top of the microwave. oh, right... you don't smoke anymore because there's no ventilation indoors.

you'd have to head out if you wanted to, but then megumi would be in the apartment on his own. and nobody can babysit, because you don't have anybody to ask to babysit. great, you can't smoke until monday. it's a friday afternoon. you have two whole days to get through!

you know for a fact your addiction won't hold out for that long.

[redroomreflections]

Not Easily Broken Chapter 1

Natasha Romanoff x Fem!Reader

Summary: Natasha and Reader go through a tragic divorce

Masterlist | General Masterlist

1/10

Note: Yes, it's getting finished besties.

W/c: 2.2k

“Emma has ballet classes on Tuesday and Thursday nights,” Natasha breathes nursing her mug steaming with whatever tea flavor she’s decided to drink this month. She avoids your gaze letting her eyes focus on the steam rising steadily from the cup. She sips waiting for you to answer.

“Okay,” You sigh rubbing your sweaty palms against the leg of your jeans. “I can take Wednesdays with Ryan if you can do Thursday nights with Emma and then we trade Tuesdays?” You suggest looking over to the woman on the other side of the counter.

“No, I have training with Steve on Thursday nights,” She declines.

“Since when?” You ask your eyebrow raised.

“Since forever.” She answers simply. “Besides you are much better at interacting with the other dance moms. Emma will want you there too.” She reminds you.

“Okay,” You say again. “What about carpool? How is that going to work if we’re in separate places? Do we keep them every other night? Switch off on weekends?”

“No, Emma’s finally gotten through her sleep regression we can’t change that now.” Natasha shakes her head. She decides she doesn’t want the tea anymore turning her back to empty it into the sink. She leans against it heavily with her arms folded gazing out of the casement window.

“Nat, we’ve been at this for an hour already,”

She turns to glare at you and if looks could kill you’d be dead.

It’s dark here in the kitchen beside the light illuminating from the stove. You’re both tired and utterly destroyed but you need to do this. You don’t want to put your children in court. Custody battles could get ugly and you want this to go right. Looking at Natasha and the frustrated expression she sports you can tell she’s tired of this too. You glance over to your bags packed and waiting for you to take them. For you to leave. You both agreed you wouldn’t stay during the night anymore only keeping up appearances for the children until you’re ready to tell them. Until Natasha is ready. She notices your looks clenching the edge of the counter.

“Have somewhere to be?”She raises a brow.

“What? No.” You roll your eyes. “I’m just wondering if we’re getting anywhere with this. If we’re doing the right thing.”

“If we’re doing the right thing?” She asks incredulously. “Only one of us has made this decision. Only one of us is working to break up this family.”

“Nat,” You warn. You really didn’t want to go there with her tonight. You can feel the splitting headache at the base of your neck. There’s tension there and you reach up with your right hand to massage the spot. You can practically feel the knots under your fingers.

“Don’t call me that,” She practically spits.

“Fine, fine.” You sigh again. “I’ll take whatever day you want. Just send me their schedules and I’ll try to keep up with it.”

“There’s no try, y/n.” Natasha scoffs. “Either you’re there or you’re not. It’s not so easy to just hop in and out of your children’s lives when you want.” She returns to a defensive stance looking at you challengingly. “Then again I forgot who raised you.”

How dare she? Your jaw clenches slightly as you try to rein in your emotions. Your father was a deadbeat dad who only spent time taking advantage of your love for too long. He would come and go as he pleased only bothering to spend time with you when he wanted to look like the father of the year. You were nothing like him. Nothing like him! As you look into those forest green eyes you can see the dare there. She wants you to say something back.

“I’m not playing into your games,” You shake your head. “There’s never a moment where I haven’t loved our children less than the day they were born. I would never.”

“And yet you’re spending more and more time at the office,” She tilts her head. “Your paperwork sees more of you than they do.”

“Natasha, that’s unfair.” You ball your fists on your side. “You know things at work have been hectic. They know that. I-I try to be there as much as I can. Besides, I distinctly remember you being gone for months at a time for missions when they were young. I don’t see you getting any awards either.”

“Hmm,” She hums. “Seems we both have something in common then.”

“What is this really about, Natasha?” You ask. “Because there’s not much left for us to say or for us to do.” You stand walking over to your bags. You slip your cell phone inside of the carry-on and turn back to her.

“Right, run away like the coward you are.” She mutters.

“What?” You’re taking steps closer to her this time. You don’t realize how close you are until she’s pressed against the counter. Your breaths are practically intermingled and this is the closest you’ve been in months you realize. “What is that supposed to mean?”

“Nothing,” Natasha says nonchalantly. “It’s just you have a tendency to run away from your problems. You run when times get hard.”

“And you don’t?”

“Like I said we have a lot in common,” She stands a bit taller. “You don’t have to do this. Any of this I mean. If it gets hard for you. I can take Ryan and Emma and I’ll figure something out with their schedules. I’ll tell them something about you having to work or I don’t know. Just don’t play with their hearts.”

“Dammit, Natasha,” Your hand raises and you don’t miss the way she flinches. You’re not going to hit her. You would never. At that moment you feel like an idiot as you back away from her. “Jesus.” You breathe. “Nat, we can’t keep doing this. Pretending that we love each other. I mean in the beginning, things were so loving and so passionate. I’ve loved every minute of our life together but it’s just…. I…” you stumble to find your words.

“Who says I’m pretending?” She frowns.

“It’s not enough anymore for us to be holding on by a thread,” You drop your hands back to your sides. “It’s not enough for us to be two people in love anymore. That’s not how a marriage works.”

“Is that it? Or I am not enough?” She’s vulnerable at this moment looking at you. Her voice cracks just slightly and you feel your heartbreaking. You’re not heartless and you’re not a monster. You never wanted to make her feel this way. “Did you find someone else?” She asks suddenly.

“I’m not a cheater.” You reply. How could she possibly think she wasn’t enough? Natasha was everything. She’s always been everything. Your everything. Sometimes things don’t work out the way they’re supposed to. That’s why you’re here and after 9 years of marriage and two children, you aren’t taking this lightly. You’ve sat on this for the better part of a year and you decided a divorce was better. You fought more in the past year. Spent more time apart. Kept yourself out of the house more and more. Anything to put some space between the two of you.

“You know that’s really hard to believe when you haven’t been present for a very long time,” Natasha says.

“What? Just because I’ve been away more doesn’t mean I would cheat?”Where would she ever get this idea?

“We haven’t had sex in almost two years,” Natasha points out. Damn! Has it really been that long? Surely you’ve been intimate more recently than that. There was that time a few months ago when you had her against the sink in one of the bathrooms at Tony and Pepper’s anniversary party. No. You’d gotten interrupted and forgotten all about it. “So if you’re not getting it from me you’re getting it from someone else. Just tell me instead of giving me the bullshit excuses you have been. Is it Cara from accounting? She’s sweet. Nice body. Lisa from HR? I bet she eats pussy well enough. ”

“Natasha, I am not a cheater.” Your voice raises and she immediately shushes you. If you wake the children this is going to turn into an even tougher conversation. In a hushed tone, “I can promise you, Natasha I have never cheated on you.”

“So tell me what it is,” Her tone is almost petulant and childlike. She’s frustrated and hurt. The next thing is for her to lash out and you’d much rather leave before she gets to that.

“Nat, I can’t because there’s not just one simple reason,” You try to force your mind to focus on the conversation in front of you. “We aren’t who we used to be. We fight more than we love. That’s not how a marriage should be. It’s not good for the kids and it’s not good for us.”

“And you made this decision all on your own,” Natasha’s voice wavers. Before you can speak again there’s a small voice coming from behind her.

“Mama?”

You both turn to see sleepy green eyes looking up at you.

Four-year-old Emma (four and a half according to her) looks between the both of you as she tries to figure out the situation in this room. She’s holding her favorite blue blanket, the one she’s had since she was a newborn, to her chest. She looks so small in her nightgown with her red hair messy as she trails over to Natasha. Her blanket drags against the ground as she walks. She raises her arms to be picked up and Natasha obliges her.

“What are you doing up, printsessa?” Natasha raises the girl onto her hip caressing her back and head as she rocks her gently.

“I heard yelling,” She pouts looking over to you through her thick lashes. She looks exactly like Natasha despite you having carried her. It’s something you both joked about after choosing her donor. Ryan looks more like you. He’s seven and apparently a much deeper sleeper. “Mommy, are you going somewhere?” Emma asks pointing her chubby fingers over to your door.

“Yeah,” You answer her.

“For how long this time?” She shoots another question.

You look to Natasha for help on how to answer but she simply looks away burying her face in Emma’s hair.

“For a little bit, Babygirl.” You try.

“But I don’t want you to go.” Emma’s pout deepens. “You have to stay and eat breakfast with me, and Mama, and Ryan.”

“Not this time, I can’t.” You say.

“Oh,” She looks down before looking up at you. “Well, when you get back can we have a sleepover in your and Mama’s bed? We haven’t done one of those in a long, long time?” Her voice is hopeful and you can tell she’s fighting her sleep again.

“I’m sorry,” You whisper. You can’t bring yourself to lie to her. You don’t want to be like him. Giving her false hope.

“Tell you what, Printsessa, you and Ryan can sleep with me tomorrow night.” Natasha bounces her on her hip. Emma’s eyes light up at the promise. You’re so grateful she’s taken the lead. She’s had to frequently these days. “Now you can sleep with me tonight too. Go upstairs and get warm and I’ll come and tuck you in.” She releases Emma from her hold and the girl slides down from her body. She begins to run to the stairs before stopping in her tracks. She turns to run and you kneel to catch her in your arms. She wraps her arms around your neck landing a wet kiss on your cheek.

“I love you, Mommy. Come back soon,” It’s a thing you and Natasha used to say whenever she was away on missions. Hearing your daughter utter those words brings tears to your eyes. In your peripheral, you can see Natasha is just as emotional as she wipes the tears away quickly before Emma can see.

“I will,” You manage to get out as you hold her in your arms for a few seconds. Finally, you let go and she takes off running presumably for your bedroom. You stay kneeling before rising to your full height. You reach out to Natasha to comfort her, you’re not really sure why, but you’re expecting her to pull away. She doesn’t. She allows you to pull her into your arms and she buries her face into your neck. You hold her as a sob rack her body. You dare a kiss to the side of her head and she pulls away from you as if she’s been burned.

She wraps her arms around herself defensively. She looks so small at this moment. With her black leggings and her oversized sweater.

“I’m broken, and I’m tired and it’s your fault so please leave.” She doesn’t wait for you to say anything else as she turns to follow the same path your daughter has taken. She trusts you enough to lock the door. As you look around the home you’ve built you can’t help but feel guilty. Everything you’ve built was crumbling and you can’t help but feel it’s all your fault.

----> next part

[asvterias]

𝖢𝗁𝖺𝗉𝗍𝖾𝗋 𝟪: 𝖬𝖺𝗄𝖾 𝖴𝗉 𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝖬𝖺𝗄𝖾 𝖮𝗎𝗍

the cast // series masterlist

chap. 1 || chap. 2 || chap. 3 || chap. 4 || chap. 5 || chap. 6 || chap. 7 || chap. 8 || chap. 9

‼️  DISCLAIMERS FOR THIS CHAPTER  ‼️ 

#MakeUpAndMakeOut, #MuscularGirlsCanGetIt, #MyAgendaIsAllAboutGirlsSpeficallyClarisse, #KissingGirlsMakesAllMyProblemsDisappear

Protective!Reader, Reassuring!Sympathetic!Reader x Flustered!Clarisse, Flirty!Reader x Flirty!Clarisse,

Some Cursing, Reader HATES her deadbeat father!!, Reader is a Poseidon HATER 💯, Reader and Percy being Chaotic Siblings Goals, Typical Daily Foreshadowing, Smart!Reader having the best intuition, Mentions of Having Short Term Memory, Reader & Clarisse make up, Undertones of Love Langauges; Physical Touch & Acts of Services, Our Fav Couple Bonding, Detailed Making Out Scene

Italics Alone are Reader’s Thoughts

Bold Italics are Other Various Character’s POV

word count: 6.4k+

tag list: @starless-nightz @starvviss @cherishmiya @random-girls-loves @coolgirl458 @kjisbae17 @s0r0ws @a-fucking-sappho @lvc-lv @watchesstuff @marve1stranger @theogirlovermattheogirl

author’s note: anyways, i hope you liked this chapter! please don’t be a silent reader and interact within the chapter. sorry, but i couldn’t leave reader and clarisse mad at each other for too long….so i decided to drag it out until chapter 10 😊! isn’t that so fun, to prolong the lesbian angst even further?!

🌊 🐚 ✘ 🔥🗡️

CHAPTER 8, EPISODE 2

✧.* ࿐ CHAPTER 8 MIXTAPE ! ꩜ ·˚ ༘₊· ✿ ೀ ➳

001,  NOT MY PROBLEM . . . laila  (remix)

002, DRIVE BY . . . eric bellinger

003,  ADORN YOU . . . miguel

004, LOYALTY . . . kendrick lamar & rihanna

005, KISS ME MORE . . . doja cat & sza

006,  COMPANY . . . justin bieber

Upon discovering that you were forbidden children, you packed up out of the Hermes cabin and headed over to Poseidon’s cabin. His cabin was a far distance from the other cabins, rather out of importance or avoidance.

You opened the door, leading the inside of the cabin, noticing how dirty and abandoned the cabin looked, and frowned in disgust.

Great, not only are you and Percy totally alone in this cabin, but now you also have to clean it. Yay, you hate this cabin and that deadbeat asshole of a father already! At least, no one will accidentally step on you while you sleep, that’s an upgrade here!

Once again, you and Percy met up with Chiron and Dionysus in the front office.

“As forbidden children of the Sea God, you are singular amongst demigods, and your father’s only hope to prevent the outbreak of war.” Chiron explained, “For months now, Zeus and Poseidon have been locked in a dispute over the master bolt. The symbol of Zeus’s authority, and it has been stolen.”

“Okay, and…?! What the fuck that gotta do with us?”

Get straight to the point!

“Who stole it?” Your brother blinked, baffled by this new information.

“You did.” Dionysus answered.

“What?” Confused as always, Percy stated.

“What, no he didn’t!” You exclaimed, defending your brother.

“Well, missy, probably you stole it then,”

“Real classic with the blame game, Mr. D,” You scoffed, crossing your arms, “How can either of us steal something we didn’t even know existed until now? Hmm…make it make sense.”

“Zeus is looking for a thief, and sees two forbidden children claimed by his jealous brother…it doesn’t look good for you, kiddos.”

“…I…we didn’t do anything,”

“Of course, you didn’t, but your father needs your help.”

“Fuck my father, okay, he finally shows up out of what 16 whole years, and suddenly we’re supposed to do everything to get his attention?”

“Ms. Matthews,” Chiron exhaled, “I know you’re angry with your father but please let me finish.”

“My bad, Chiron, you can continue,”

“Real classic with the blame game, Mr. D,” You scoffed, crossing your arms, “How can either of us steal something we didn’t even know existed until now? Hmm…make it make sense.”

“Zeus is looking for a thief, and sees two forbidden children claimed by his jealous brother…it doesn’t look good for you, kiddos.”

“…I…we didn’t do anything,”

“Of course, you didn’t, but your father needs your help.”

“Fuck my father, okay, he finally shows up out of what 16 whole years, and suddenly we’re supposed to do everything to get his attention?”

“Ms. Matthews,” Chiron exhaled, “I know you’re angry with your father but please let me finish.”

“My bad, Chiron, you can continue,”

“Thank you, Y/N, and as I was saying, An ultimatum has been given to him by Zeus that if he doesn’t return the bolt by the summer solstice in one week….” He finished with a neutral face, “There will be war, that is your quest.”

“I’m sorry, what?” Your eyes widened.

“There will be war, Y/N.” Percy restates, leaning forward, tugging slightly on his ear, “Listen, that’s what your ears are created to do.”

“Thanks so much for the brief health science topic,” You gritted at your younger brother.

“Anytime, big sis,” He smiles widely.

The siblings turned back to Chiron, waiting for his next announcement.

“You two must leave immediately.” Chiron commanded.

Percy questioned, “Leave? Leave for where?”

“But we just got here!” You complained.

“I know that.”

“Why are you kicking us out then?”

“I’m not kicking you two out, you just have to fulfill your quest,”

“A quest, like…a real-life quest.” You skeptically inquired, sending them a dumbfounded look.

“Yes, a real-life quest,” Dionysus mocked you. “It can’t get any more simpler than that.”

“Didn’t know that I required a fucking echo, Mr. D.”

“Well with your big mouth, it is necessary,” Dionysus jabbed back.

You nodded, impressed by his final jab, allowing your little loss at that while Dionysus huffed his chest in boastfulness and smiled to himself.

“Zeus is king on Olympus and Poseidon has always resented it, but there is a third brother who has always deeply resented them both,”

“It’s Hades,” Percy confirmed.

“Yes,”

“Hold up,” You interrupted, “There’s more? How big is this goddamn family?”

“Bigger than you can imagine, missy,” Dionysus nods.

“The bolt is with Hades, in the underworld,”

“I know it sounds daunting.”

“Sounds daunting?! With all due respect Chiron it is daunting, probably even terrifying,” You frantically replied, “Hades might kill us when we reach his domain, did that thought ever cross your mind?”

“But…there is a silver lining in this gray mysterious cloud, Y/N,”

“And what’s that, Chiron?! The odds are looking so great right now!”

“You two won’t be alone, a quest is always undertaken by three, or in this case, six. Y/N chooses two people and Percy chooses two people as well,”

“Great. Good luck finding those guys, ‘cause it ain’t gonna be me, or my sister,” Percy shaked his head.

“Poseidon has claimed you two. This is his will.”

“Sounds like Poseidon has some personal issues with his brother that he needs to fix himself, which are none of my business nor my concern.” You quipped.

“Exactly!” The blonde boy agreed with your statement, “Poseidon has ignored us our entire life.”

“You are his children, his beloved son, and his fearless daughter.” Dionysus makes this clear.

“We are Sally Jackson’s and Jessica Matthew’s children.”

“Who is Sally and Jessica?”

You stared at him, clearing your throat, focusing on your upcoming words, “They’re the ones who cared enough to call herself our moms. They’re the ones who got themselves killed so that me and Percy could be safe here.”

“The fate of the world hangs in the balance!” Dionysus was getting impatient and louder.

“Why is the world’s fate left up to children, then? Shouldn’t the adults handle that?”

“You two will accept this quest!” He yells, his anger getting the best of him.

“No, we won’t!” Percy shouts back at the man.

“Last time I checked, these are grown men, millions of years old, and they’re squabbling over a bolt like two spoiled annoying kids. It’s time they act their age, it’s getting too ridiculous now. So if it means me going on this quest I’d be beyond happy to put them in their places.” You cleared your throat, “So forgive me and my brother if we don’t wanna go on this suicide mission, considering we’re still coping with our own grief.”

“Hey everybody,” A familiar voice chirps up, interrupting the impending screaming match.

It was Grover, awkwardly walking closer, diffusing the heated conversation with a crooked smile.

“Grover now is not the time,” Chiron chastised lightly, looking at the satyr.

“I’m sorry, sir, but I have news.”

“Grover…” Chiron trailed off, disapproval laced in his tone.

“Sally Jackson is alive.” He claims, determined and filled with hope.

“What?”

Oh, this is great! If your mother, Sally is alive then that must mean your mom, Jessica is alive too. You should ask Grover just to be sure and don’t get your hopes up for nothing.

“It looked like she died, but it only looked that way.”

“Grover…” This time, Dionysus is steady with a warning tone.

“Your mother was stolen by Hades, which means she’s with him now, in the underworld. That’s where they want you to go too, isn’t it?”

You and Percy drifted your attention back to the two adults, who looked annoyed at Grover’s sudden assumption. Regardless of that, they knew it was the truth, and withholding that vital information wasn’t a good idea on their behalf.

“Do you know if my mom’s alive too, Grover?” You beamingly asked, clasping your hands together in anticipation.

“I’m sorry, Y/N, but I’m having a strong feeling she’s not.”

“Oh…” You looked dejected, feeling your heart clenching in sadness once again, “Well…okay.”

You really hoped she was still alive. At least, one of your moms is still alive, right, that’s something to be grateful for.

“If you can find her there…I think you two can bring her back.”

That statement slowly dawned on the two siblings as you pondered on a final decision. It was certainly a no-brainer that you’d do anything to save your mother, Sally from the clutches of Hades’ and his underworld, almost risking your lives too.

You breathed out, determination now replacing your anguish as you looked at the two adults, “When do we leave?”

After that dreadful conversation, Chiron allowed you and Percy to leave, giving you time to process the entire situation. Later that same day, it was evening and dinner was soon approaching.

Sticking to the same routine, you and Adrianna had joined Percy, Chris, and Luke at a table, all of you eating in contentment.

For some odd reason, you couldn’t direct your eyes away from the Ares table, noticing the absence of a person.

“Hey, where’s Clarisse?” You asked Adrianna, eyes trained at the empty seat where the curly-haired girl supposedly sits.

Your best friend shrugged her shoulders, not having a care in the world as she continued to feast on her dinner.

“Don’t know and don’t care,” She groans, munching on her food, “I’m not La Rue’s keeper, her pesky siblings already do that. Besides why do you care, did you forget she completely humiliated you yesterday?”

“Nobody’s seen her since Capture The Flag,” Chris informed you.

“Best not to bother her, especially after the argument,” Luke advised.

“Yeah, an argument which Clarisse initiated! I was defending myself and Percy whereas she brought up my dead parents!”

“Well, you disrespected her dad,” Adrianna recalls.

“Who’s a god, who’s immortal…” You narrowed your eyes, “She also made it seem like my moms being human was the main cause of their demise. Who fucking does that?”

“Despite all of that, you two were both in the wrong. Although I hate to admit it, Clarisse looked really hurt during the argument, probably because you were demolishing her reputation and her so-called feelings.” Your blonde best friend states.

“Does that make me a bad person?” You covered your face with your hands, groaning as Adrianna patted your back.

Percy looked at you. “No, you can try to apologize. That’s always better than nothing!”

“Wow, you’re rational, for the first time in your life.”

“Haha! You’re hilarious!” Percy sends you a half-lipped smile, “This coming from the same girl who gave away her first kiss for a game distraction,”

“Doesn’t matter anyway, we still won!”

“No thanks to you,”

“Or you!”

“You don’t know that!”

“Yes, I do!”

“Calm down, you guys.”

“I’m calm!”

“Never been more calmer,”

“Moving on…” Luke trails off, staring at you, “So what are you gonna do about the whole Clarisse fiasco?”

“You can shove this whole pie in her face.” Percy’s smile widened, handing you an entire plate of pumpkin pie.

“That’s just a waste of good pie,” Chris comments.

“No thanks, but save me a piece,”

“Yeah, if you’re lucky,” He murmurs, resting the pie on the table down in front of him.

“I wonder if she’s eaten yet,” You murmured to yourself.

“You’re worrying about her even though she disrespected your moms’ deaths just like that?!” She scoffed, gulping down some of her drink, “Could not be me,”

“Whatever, Adri, it’s not like I forgive her already.”

“Good, make her beg for it,” She listed off, “Make her chase you around for a bit. By the time you actually forgive her, she’ll be absolutely desperate for you and you’d be unbothered.”

“That was my intention all along,” You grinned at her as she nodded at your statement, continuing her dinner. “Wait, do just wanna see Clarisse at her lowest?”

“This is why we’re best friends.” She smirks, drinking some of her juice.

“You know me so well,”

“Evil masterminds, the both of you,” Percy chuckled.

“What do you think of the plan, little dude? Too extreme for our dear Clarisse?”

“No, no, in fact, I think you should amplify it, like 10x times more,”

“You two are bad influences,”

“Doesn’t matter anyways, you’re still gonna do it regardless,”

“That I am,”

Very quickly, you consumed the rest of your food, discarding the dirty dishes on the rack, and bidding your friends goodnight.

Without any explanation, you stood up from the table, venturing towards the loud boastful Ares table. You recognized the familiar blonde buff girl, who helped terrorize your brother earlier today and considered she might be of help. Tapping on the girl’s shoulder’s lightly, you smiled as she turned around to face you.

“What do you want?!” She scowled at you.

“What’s Clarisse’s favorite dinner dish?” You blankly asked with a neutral face.

“Excuse me?!”

“I don’t like repeating myself,” You scoffed, “You will tell me what’s her favorite dinner dish and you’ll do so with either a goddamn smile or a frown, I don’t fucking care! I’m not leaving this table until I get it, I’m known to be very persuasive,”

Long story short, you managed to get the information you needed from Clarisse’s sister and prepared a plate for her.

Deciding to bring dessert as well, you skipped off to your regular table, grabbing the pumpkin pie off the table.

“Hey, I was eating that!” Your brother incredulously yelled, holding his plastic fork in midair.

“Not anymore you’re not!” You kissed his forehead, “Thanks for the desert,”

“Sleep with one eye open tonight,” He warned, handing you two clean packaged forks.

“Sure, I’ll try,” You rolled your eyes, appreciating his consideration for giving you two forks, and began to skip off in the direction of the cabins.

Soon enough, you headed off to the Ares cabin, humming along to a random melody with your hands full.

That was easy! If only people were so cooperative then there would be world peace. Oh well, one problem at a time!

Standing right outside of the Ares cabin, you gulped down your anxiety and knocked on the door a few times. When there was silence on return, you rolled your eyes at that.

Hesitantly, you turned the doorknob slowly and stepped inside, cautious of your surroundings as the loud creaking of the door exposed you.

“Room service,” You awkwardly knocked on the side of the door, slightly startling the La Rue girl out of her silent trance.

“Not in the mood for conversation, Matthews,” She snarls, avoiding eye contact with you.

You stumbled further inside of the cabin, closing the door, and spotting Clarisse on her bed with her back turned to you.

“Really?? We’re on a first-name basis after you stuck your tongue down my throat?”

“…I was strategizing a game plan, sorry if you actually felt something.”

Wow, okay, yikes. She didn’t have use to use that harsh tone with you.

“And look at which team won now,” You snarked back, still feeling a little hostile to your prior argument.

“Shut up,” She seethes, clenching the top half of the spear in her hand.

Releasing a tired sigh, knowing your judgment got ahold of your speech. You just wanted to talk to her without any complications. “Look I didn’t come here to argue with you,”

“So why are you here then?” She retorted with a demanding tone that held some annoyance to it, “Come to gloat even further in my face about your team winning Capture the Flag,”

“No, I came to apologize for my behavior earlier,”

“Bullshit,”

“If I was actually bullshitting you, it’ll be painfully clear.” You mentioned, nervously biting down on your lower lip, “I’m trying to be the bigger person here, but you’re not making it very easy.”

Clarisse was quiet, allowing her thoughts to run freely, keeping her outburst of emotions at bay. She thought to herself of your consideration of your genuine words.

You felt sympathetic towards her, willing to apologize for your wrongdoings and even prepared her favorite dinner dish. Not many people would do that for her, nor would she accept it without any hesitation either. Yet, your presence made her hesitate, considering if she was losing her aggressive nature.

She faced you, “Do you always bite your lip?” She pointed out, glancing at your chapped lips.

To be honest, that question caught you off guard, hoping you'd receive a reply from your earlier statement. For some reason, she seemed to be dodging that particular statement, but whatever got her talking to you again was fine.

“Habit of mines,”

“Oh, okay…You should buy a chapstick then,” She nodded, trying to change the conversation once the awkwardness settled in the atmosphere. Her eyes landed on the plate in your hand, “Why’d you bring that plate of dinner?”

“Your siblings demand that I bring it to you,” You handed her the plate, ignoring the awkward exchange. “Besides I also got dessert, hope you like pumpkin pie,” You showed her the pie plate.

“Yeah right,” She snorts with an eye roll, clearly unconvinced, glancing at the dessert plate before resuming her attention on her broken spear, “Because if my siblings did that, you could have refused and carried on with your business. You don’t give a shit about me,”

“But I didn’t, and technically it was more like me demanding they tell me what was your favorite food.” You huffed, irritated that she didn’t accept the plate, “And no, it’s kinda sad that you think that I don’t give a shit about you when I do. Believe it or not, I do care about your well-being, risse,”

“Oh, really…” Clarisse’s amusement is soon replaced with a hushed whisper, keeping her eyes focused on the plate, “Thanks, I guess.”

“You’re welcome. Eat it while it’s still hot,” You suggested, smiling and beckoning her towards the prepared plate.

Going off your kind instructions, Clarisse gently discarded her broken spear on her bedside table. She settled herself beside you, sitting on the floor and the mattress was her back support. Grabbing the plate out of your hand, place it on her lap, and unwrap her utensils. After she uncovered her food wrap that was carefully wrapped, she remembered your presence looming over her.

Pausing her movements entirely, she slowly turned to look at you.

“Why are you still standing?”

“Because I want you to eat.”

“Thanks, captain obvious, but at least sit on the bed,” She negotiated with a soft smile, patting a space on her bed.

“No thanks, I’m gonna leave. Do you want half of this pie?”

“What? Why? You don’t have to.” Clarisse protested, an instant frown tugging at her lips, “Please, stay, I want to talk things out.”

“Nah, that’s too easy,”

“What’s too easy?”

“You should put more effort into wanting me to stay,”

“Do you want me to get on my knees and beg?”

“Now that you mention it, yes I do,”

“Sorry, pretty girl, I’m not doing that,”

“Worth a shot,”

“But, please stay, I genuinely want to discuss with you properly,”

Eventually, you gave into her begging, loving how hopeless she sounded, sitting down beside her. Waiting for her to eat but she doesn’t, instead, she rests her dinner plate on her bedside table and continues to hover over her broken spear.

“Clarisse…” Worry overtook your features at her reluctance to consume her food.

Was she not hungry? Perhaps, she doesn’t like eating in front of other people. Okay, that’s bullshit, you’ve seen her eat in public multiple times, so that wasn’t the issue. Did she want you to leave? There were so many questions you wanted to ask her but was afraid of being rejected.

She hummed in response, mindlessly acknowledging your presence.

Oh fuck it, you only live once and you’d rather live your life not controlled by fear.

“Are you not hungry right now?” You frowned, placing a hand on the upper arm, unintentionally pressing against her muscles. Fighting back the wicked smirk that tugged at your lips, you let your hand linger there for a while, “I brought this to you because it’s not good to skip out on meals.”

At first, Clarisse kept quiet, accepting your touch as you tried to comfort her.

Growing impatient and worried by her lack of speech, you gently gripped her upper arm, tugging her in your direction. Yet, the La Rue girl resisted your actions against you, wanting to remain unseen.

Clarisse kept her head turned the other way, her voice suddenly sounding hoarse and tired…like she’d been crying. Ever since you walked into the cabin, Clarisse forcefully withheld her tears, not wanting to be deemed weak. That was why she kept her back facing you, to conceal her upcoming tears and saddened state. “Oh, hey, what did you say?”

Did she not hear what you said earlier? Was she zoning out and purposefully ignoring you? Although you couldn’t blame her, you talked horribly about her father, one who she so righteously claimed was there for her.

You decided to play along, “Nothing much,” You noticed her quiet sniffles and tense shoulders as she kept her back turned to you. Curiosity got a hold of you, eyebrows furrowing in confusion as you finally spun her around to look at you, realizing she was wiping away tears.

Maybe, urging a desperate Clarisse at the moment wasn’t a good idea. Forget about the personal vendetta right now, it seems as if Clarisse needs comfort and you were giving it to her.

“Hey, are you okay- are you crying?” You shuffled closer to her, “Who made you cry? Just say their name and it’ll be dealt with, all I need is the name,” Your hands softly made their way onto her face, turning her head to look at you. You smiled at her recognition, caressing her face slightly, adoring how she fawns from the simple touch.

No wonder why you had her so whipped! She’s in pure fascination by just your touch alone.

“I’m fine, and I wasn’t crying.” She defended herself, chuckling at your protective nature.

It was sweet to see you care for her.

“Oh really, then, why are tears all over your face? Your eyes are puffy and red, and your cheeks are soaked with tears,”

“Must be the room dust or my eyes are easily irritated,” She sniffled, slightly shuddering when your fingers brushed away the tears, “Anyways, this doesn’t matter, it’s not a big deal.”

“It’s fine to admit that you were crying, Clarisse, I’m not going to hold it against you. No matter what you think of me, I’m not the type of girl to expose your business,”

“I don’t really want to talk about it,”

“That’s okay, it’s your feelings, it’s none of my business.” You reassured, tucking a stray curly hair behind her ear.

Although, you really wanted it to be. No, stop acting too fast Y/N! Don’t forget what she said to you.

“But that’s the problem,” She complained.

You frowned at her complaint. “What?”

Is she serious, like at all right now?

You were offering consolation while respecting her boundaries and still, she managed to find a problem.

Never have you been so utterly confused by just one person as much as Clarisse did to you. What does it take to get through this girl?

“Your energy; I want to talk to you. You’re an easily approachable person and I hate that…”

“Oh, well.” You rolled your eyes, dropping your hands and onto your lap, “I apologize for being such an easy approachable girl,”

“No, I didn’t mean it like that, Matthews,” she exhales, closing her eyes and momentarily missing your soft touch which still lingered on her cheeks. The Ares girl stammered on her upcoming words, silently cursing in her head for being too straightforward. “You make it so, so fucking hard for me to think properly.”

Your eyebrows raised in surprise, catching you off guard as a devious smile appeared.

Oh, you made it hard to think properly?! Now it was only suitable to flirt with her.

“That is really flattering, Clarisse,” You smirked. “So, I must be on your mind a lot these days,”

“Get your mind out of the gutter, Matthews.” She grabbed an extra fork, dug into the pumpkin pie, and joined you.

“Your mind was in there, long before mine,” You countered, piecing away a mouthful of pie, “I should be telling you that.”

“Stop getting off track,”

“I’d rather be off track with you,” You leaned in closer.

“You’re such a damn flirt, Matthews,” she chuckles, ignoring the butterflies swarming around her stomach.

“And you love it,” You taunted, “Almost much as you love kissing me,”

“I never said that,”

“You didn’t need to,”

“Why not?”

“Because I can see it in your eyes, you know you wanna kiss me,”

Making immediate eye contact, she flushed under her piercing gaze and her smile never faltered. Smoothly you placed your finger underneath her chin, Clarisse swooning just by your simple touch as you lifted her face to meet your eyes.

“And what will you do if I want to kiss you?”

“Maybe I’ll accept it,” You teased, bringing her in closer to you.

“Don’t start something you know you can’t finish,” She mutters, eyes glancing at both your lips and eyes.

“Are you calling me a pussy, La Rue?” A teasing smirk forms on your face.

“No, I’m not, but to quote you ‘you are what you eat,’” She reaffirmed in a low tone.

“I adore hearing you quote me, makes me feel more superior,” You murmured, your lips hovering over hers, barely inches away from touching.

“But now you need to eat,” You spoke, pulling away from her as if nothing intensely happened just now.

“Eat?! You want me to eat when you were that close to me, I can’t possibly focus on anything else other than you.” She exclaimed, still processing your near kiss.

The idea of her eating food was long gone and what she truly wanted to eat wasn’t technically edible for her.

“Yet you’re the one telling me to get my mind out of the gutter,” You huffed out, snatching the pumpkin pie from her hand, “Hypocritical much,”

“Call me whatever you want, pretty girl, but I crave to taste your lips again,”

“Don’t you have a better reconciliation of today?”

“No, I don’t. In fact, I can’t remember anything from the past hours.”

“You can’t?”

“I can’t,”

“Oh, really, risse?”

“Yes, really, pretty girl,”

“What happened to your precious spear?”

“It broke,”

“Exactly, who broke it?”

She sharply answered, “Your menace of a brother,” She discovered you caught her in a lie, and sheepishly stared at you.

“Nice try, I never believed you from the start,”

You stared at the untouched plate of food, and anxiously scanned Clarisse’s face, trying to decipher any negative expression.

“You’re not gonna stop looking at me like that until I eat this pumpkin pie, do you?”

“Yep,”

She smiles, continuing to closed-mouth chew on the pumpkin pie, having already her dinner and now finishing off dessert.

“This feels weird to me.”

“What’s so weird?”

“I never used to care about any of the small things other people do for me. I don’t wanna sound like a sap, but it feels different with you, almost natural. I’m inclined to appreciate the acts of service you do for me, even if they’re as small as bringing me dinner. All my demigod life, I’ve been told by my father to only look out for myself and pay no mind to others. So, I guess what I’m trying to say is, I never really had anyone else to care for me, so thank you,”

“Well, now you do,”

“Tie up your hair so it won’t get in our pie,” You advise, holding her hair back, “Do you have a scrunchie?”

“Yeah, I do,” She gets up, walking over to her bedside drawer and rummages through it until she finds it.

She hands you the scrunchie, grabs her plate again, and continues to eat.

“Do you mind?” Although she still was considerate enough to ask, it was rather a declaration than a question.

“Of course not,” You grinned.

You put the black scrunchie around your wrist, pulling her hair back in a tight ponytail, switching it with the scrunchie, finalizing her ponytail.

Somehow, Clarisse was a fast eater and finished her food in a matter of seconds.

“Look…Clarisse,” You kept your head down, avoiding eye contact, “About what I said earlier today at Capture The Flag–“

“Forget about,” She interrupted, placing her hand on top of yours, “Seriously, I don’t give a fuck about our argument anymore.”

“You don’t?!” Puzzled as ever, you asked, needing to be certain.

“I don’t…after our argument, I calmed down and started to soak in your words….and I realized you were right…I seek too much validation from my father and I can’t fucking believe it took your brother breaking my precious spear to realize that.”

“Clarisse…I didn’t mean that, sometimes my mouth moves faster than my brain and I know that’s no excuse but, I really am sorry for saying what I said. It was shitty for me to talk about your dad when I knew nothing about your relationship with him.”

“But you did,” She shakes her head, discarding the empty pie plate in a nearby mini trash can, “And surprisingly I’m okay with that…like ‘let’s get past this okay’ not ‘i’m gonna fight with you okay’,”

“You sure?” You squinted your eyes, tracing your fingers over her hand, “You’re not holding back on me or anything?”

“If I was, you would have known. I think you know me better than I know myself,”

“But we met less than a week ago,”

“Oh, I know, that’s the scary part,”

Clarisse looked down, fidgeting with her bracelet in her hand, contemplating how to proceed. Her final decision was quick as she nodded to herself, taking off the jewelry on her wrist.

“This is my mom’s bracelet, she gave it to me when I first arrived at this camp.”

You admired the bracelet as she dropped it in your hand. “It’s absolutely beautiful, Clarisse,”

“I know,”

“But why are you giving it to me?”

“I figure you needed it more than me,”

“How so?”

“Dumbass, look at the inside,” she instructed. As you did exactly what was expected, you brought the bracelet closer to your face and squinted your eyes to read the fine print.

“It says ‘never give up hope, even if things aren’t perfect’.” You recited, trying to understand the deeper meaning, “I appreciate the kind gift but how exactly is this…relating to me at all?”

“About having a chance to save your mother?”

“Oh…right, forgot about that,”

“Do you have short-term memory loss or something?”

“I think I just might,”

“Uhh, okay makes sense,”

“But, wait, how did you know about my mother, Sally?”

“You told me about her.” She stated.

“I did?”

“Not technically, but let’s ignore that. Point is, you have a possibility of rescuing your mother, and that’s awesome,”

“Sure, but how’d you know about my mother?”

“Don’t stress your pretty little head over the small things,” She let out a low whistle, shushing you, “What I said about your moms was totally uncalled for. Never should have disrespected their deaths, and used it against you in that way. Your moms dying as humans didn’t change the fact that you still horribly lost them.” She continued, clearing her throat, “No matter what I say, how many words I can describe to express what it felt for you in that moment, to witness and gain trauma alongside it. The bottom line is that I’m sorry for acting like an asshole and for my shitty words. None of my words were true, it can be stressful finding out so much devastating news in under short time and you’re managing pretty well, even more than most of these other campers. I’m just…really sorry.”

You plastered on a weak smile, “Out of sight, out of mind,”

“You don’t have to fake a smile,” She affirmed, “Not around me,”

“I’m not,”

“Yes you are; you’re doing it right now,”

“You’re getting quite observant today,”

“Is there anything I can do to make you feel better about it?”

“No, it’s fine. It’s getting pretty late and I’m tired. Just going to head to bed,”

“Wait,” She grabbed your wrist, stopping you from standing up.

“Can I walk with you? I’ll walk with you to your cabin so you don’t have to be alone,”

“Stop fucking with me, Clarisse,”

“Trust me, I’m not fucking with you,”

“Really? I thought Clarisse kept to herself, doesn’t bother herself with other people’s shit and feelings.” You rhetorically stated, “Who’s Clarisse and what have you done to her?”

“First of all, I’m still the same Clarisse, and there’s always room for improvement,”

“Why are you doing this?”

“Because I genuinely want to walk you to your cabin,”

“No ulterior motives; like sneak attack part 2 or any of the sort?”

“Purely genuine, I swear,”

“Okay, wash your hands and we can leave.”

“Yes ma’am,”

“Then, we’ll talk about how you broke our pinky promise.”

The two teenage girls left the Ares cabin and headed towards the Poseidon cabin, keeping each other company.

Finally, you two reached to the cabin’s porch and stood around there, not wanting your conversation to end so soon.

“Good night, Clarisse,”

“Good night, pretty girl,”

Taking in a short breath, you stepped forward to her, caressing her cheek, noticing her slight shudder at your soft touch. However, she leaned in, pressing her lips gently against yours, giving you a short chaste kiss.

Too stunned to react, you reciprocated the kiss as your eyes fluttered closed, melting into it. Eventually, the kiss became more ferocious as her hands moved downwards, pulling you by the waist closer.

Finding yourself melting over the passionate kiss, a small smile formed on Clarisse’s face, gaining the confidence to dominate the kiss. Just like that, her lips found yours and it was another competition between the two except it was more than friendly.

Pulling away from her lips, desperately needing a breather, but Clarisse refused that, briefly shaking her head. You felt Clarisse’s grip tightened, walking forward and pushing you by the hips until your back hit the doorframe, doing all that without breaking the kiss. She yearned for more, more of you, more of your lips, she just needed you with her right now at this moment, it was so obvious. Both of your lips were swollen but neither of you chose to acknowledge it, wanting more of the other in your presence.

With your lips moving one accord, your hands lost themselves in her hair, unloosing the scrunchie you tied up previously, and tugging your fingers across her curly hair.

Breaking away from the heated kiss, your breaths intermingled as you pressed your forehead together, staring at the other girl in contentment.

Guess that was one way to end the night off.

Your lips were swollen as you hazily stared at the Ares girl, your chest slowly heaving, attempting to ease your alternating heartbeat.

“I should really…go inside and get some sleep,”

“Yeah, that’s probably a good idea,”

“Of course, it is,” You stammered out, playing with your braids. To save yourself from further embarrassment, you spin around, the seashell accessories in your braids clacking loudly. Facing your cabin door and quickly twisted the doorknob to enter as you heard a slight chuckle escape from Clarisse’s lips.

Normally, you would have recognized a new silver bracelet on your wrist right away so the dangling noise gave you away. It was only when the noise fully captivated you, looking down at your wrist to notice that Clarisse’s bracelet was still on.

Shit, you almost forgot! This was Clarisse’s bracelet, and you can’t believe she forgot to ask for it back.

Internally groaning as you tiredly faced Clarisse, your fingers lingering over the bracelet, ready to take it off.

“Clarisse, your mother’s bracelet, I completely forgot,”

She halted your movements, resting her hand on top of yours again for the second time today.

“No, you can keep it for now,”

“But I can’t, it’s sentimental to you,” The La Rue girl removed her hand from yours.

“And it’ll be even more sentimental to me if you’re wearing it,”

“Is the Clarisse La Rue getting sappy? That’s certainly a must-see!”

“Don’t push it,” She lightly warns.

“Only because you said so…at least for tonight.” You bargained with a small grin, analyzing her silver bracelet, “If we’re exchanging bracelets temporarily, then I want you to wear this,”

You took off your mother’s bracelet, putting the piece of jewelry around Clarisse’s right wrist. “Now we both have a reason to look for the other, and we’re wearing a sentimental value of each other.”

“I love it,” She admired the gold bracelet, “I must say gold isn’t my color, but I’ll manage,”

“No one likes a complainer,” You pouted, “Good night, risse, for real this time,”

“Good night, pretty girl,” She bid you goodbye, watching as you entered your cabin and closed the door behind you.

If only all of your nights needed a passionate makeout with Clarisse underneath the shining stars, you’d be the happiest forbidden demigod alive.

Shit, you completely forget you were supposed to have Clarisse at your mercy. This also doesn’t mean you forgive her just yet, she’d have a lot more apologies coming your way.

likes, comments, and reblogs are highly appreciated!

© asvterias, 2024. please do not copy, repost, or translate any of my works onto any other platforms without my permission.

[holylulusworld]

I’m your daddy now (3) - Lloyd Hansen

Summary: You reached the end of the rope.

Pairing: Lloyd Hansen x Singlemom!Reader (plussized)

Characters: Ari Levinson

Warnings: plus-sized reader, needy Lloyd, Lloyd being Lloyd, groping, daddy Lloyd (not the kinky kind of daddy), some fluff

A/N: This is part of my Traders of love (lust) masterlist series. It’s the prequel to TOL - Like a virgin (Bucky Barnes) and tells the story about Lloyd and his assistant sunshine. It will lead toward Ari’s story. We will see their relationship throughout all other stories. 

Catch up here: TOL - I’m your daddy now (2)

Ari exhales sharply. He’s not amused by Lloyd’s behavior.

The mustache-wearing bastard is shamelessly groping your ass while purring dirty nothings in your ear. “Plump. Sweet. Begging for cream.”

“Lloyd!” You swat his hand away and straighten your skirt blouse. “We have company. You can’t do such a thing while people are around.” You pucker your lips before striding toward the door. “Remember, we have a business to do.”

Lloyd licks his lips. He watches you walk out of the room, groaning loudly. “A hell of a woman I got myself.”

“Congrats,” Ari rolls his eyes. He knows about Lloyd’s endless stream of women roaming his bedroom. “For how long?”

“I’m gonna marry that chubby bug,” Lloyd grins before he tugs at his pants. He’s got a raging hard-on thanks to the woman ruling his mind and office. – You. It’s even worse since he got a taste of you and your perfect cunt. “She’s perfection.” Lloyd grins as he sniffs at his fingers. “She’s got a cute little shit too. Gotta be a daddy for the poor boy. His old man is a deadbeat.”

“Perfection,” Ari doubts that Lloyd will keep his word and marry you, but he says nothing. He came here for a reason, not to fight with Lloyd. “You should be careful if children are involved.

“I told you,” Lloyd grits his teeth, “I’m going to be a daddy for the little shit. I consider renaming him. Lloyd Jr. would be so cute, don’t you think?” He nods to himself. “I only need to convince my sunshine.”

“Lloyd, I came here for a second time because you want to discuss the details of my request later. I assume you had your hands full with your assistant,” Ari crosses his arms over his wide chest. He quirks a brow and waits for Lloyd to grovel.

“What can I do for you, my sexy friend?” Lloyd chuckles. He just loves to toy with people. Even more, since he found you. “I thought everything got discussed last time. My sunshine and I will join one of the dance classes and check your girl out. Maybe she needs a little money for her studio.”

“Lloyd, this is different from the other girls I paid. I want her to be mine,” Ari hesitates to talk about his feelings to a man offering women to wealthy men. He doesn’t believe Lloyd understands the concept of love.

“Love sweet love,” Lloyd smiles dopily. “I’m telling you, spring let me lose my mind. If only she wasn’t wearing those tight pants when I met her. I wouldn’t be so into that slutty little cupcake I call my own.”

“You are disgusting,” Ari sneers at Lloyd’s behavior. “I’m talking about love, not your libido. You’re lucky if your assistant doesn’t cut your balls off in your sleep.”

“That’s actually a great idea,” you say while walking back inside the office. “I got coffee for you, Mr. Levinson, and a disgustingly sweet coffee monstrosity for you, boss.”

Lloyd dips his head to glance at Ari. “I love it when she calls me boss. Gets me rock-hard every time. You wouldn’t believe how much I’m struggling to not have my way with her right now.”

You place the coffee on the small coffee table. “Lloyd!” You tut and glare at him when he tries to grope your ass. “Christ, you’re unbelievable. We have a client here. He wants our help.”

“All work and no fun,” Lloyd glumly replies. He pouts while staring at your tits. You decided on a light summer dress with a high neckline to avoid catching Lloyd’s attention. No such luck. “I wonder if I can make you forget about business.”

“Boss, do your job,” you point your index finger at him. “I already got a child to take care of. I don’t need a second one.”

“I like that one,” Ari throws in. He slowly sips his coffee while watching you and Lloyd interact. “Can we get back to my problem now?”

You nod and turn to leave Lloyd and Ari to their business. You’re still not used to the kind of business you’re involved in since you accepted the job offer. Lloyd takes the opportunity to grab a handful of your ass.

“Lloyd!” You huff and stomp away. It’s not worth it to get mad at him. He’ll only get horny the more you yell at him. Lloyd is a kinky bastard after all. “I should cut his balls off one day. But not his cock. It’s the best part of him.”

“You forgot my mustache,” Lloyd calls after you. “You know you love it, sunshine.” He turns toward Ari. “She loves it.”

“So…” You watch Lloyd rummage around his office. He curses under his breath as he goes on his hands and knees to look for something under the couch. “What are you doing?”

“I dropped something important,” he stretches his arm to reach something under the couch. You step closer to get a better look at his ass. It’s now or never. Payback for all the groping.

Smirking you grab his ass with both hands, groping him roughly through his slacks. You have to admit, he’s got a nice ass.

“Sunshine,” he purrs. “We don’t have time to get down and dirty. I need you to help me with something.”

“I swear,” you slap his ass, “if you get your dick out again and call it a surprise, I’ll follow Ari’s suggestion and cut it off.”

Lloyd huffs as he slowly gets back up. He hastily stuffs something in his pocket before looking you up and down. “He said balls, not my dick,” Lloyd smirks when you take a step back. “I see you can’t keep your hands off my perfect ass, huh? Do you want to feel me up some more?”

“We wanted to talk about your client. You remember your client, Ari Levinson, right? You mentioned a dance class and today he talked about it again. What is your plan now?”

“We’ll attend his chosen girl’s dance class and will find out more about her. That woman tries to make my job harder. She’s not on social media and pays cash,” Lloyd pouts. “I thought this would be an easy job, but no, Ari doesn’t want me to threaten her business. It would’ve been so much easier if he just played the knight in shiny armor after manipulating her business.”

“You’re so romantic.”

“When did you have the time to buy a book?”

“Romance is for losers, Y/N. I believe in horniness and my pussy-detector,” Lloyd points at his crotch. “If little Lloyd likes you, it’s true love.” He grins, proud of himself. “Come on, let’s get home. The little shit is waiting for his daddy to read him one of the new books I bought.”

“It’s called online shopping,” he huffs. “I don’t have the time to waste my time in a dusty bookstore.”

You quirk a brow. After you let him do unspeakable things to you for the first time, Lloyd is unstoppable. He wanted you and your son to move in with him. Lloyd even hired an interior designer to turn two of his guestrooms into a bedroom and a playroom for your son.

If only you could believe him that he wants to be more than the guy stuffing your pussy.

“Fine,” you sigh, too tired to argue. “The babysitter wants to go home too. Let’s go. We still need to talk about Mr. Levinson and your plan.”

He wraps one arm around your waist and kisses your cheek. “Does going home include a little action for the tiger in my pants?”

“I thought it was a python?”

“Who cares?” He groans. “There’s a whole jungle in my pants and it all belongs to you, sunshine…”

“…and then the little ant kicked the evil toad’s ass,” Lloyd closes the book, a big smirk on his face. “Son, how did you like the book?”

“Cool,” your son gasps. He’s still mesmerized by all the voices Lloyd imitated while reading the book he found online to your son. “I like the ant the most.”

“Tomorrow, we will read about his next adventure. I bet he’ll kick more ass.” Lloyd runs his hand over your son’s head, gently patting the little boy. “…can’t believe that deadbeat left a cute little shit like you.”

“Lloyd!” You tut. “You promised to stop calling my son little shit!”

“Our son,” he corrects. “How about you wait in our bedroom for me and the python fighting my pants? I got something to discuss with Lloyd Jr.”

You kiss your son’s forehead and wish him a good night. He refuses to sleep in your bedroom since he has his own room at Lloyd’s house. “We won’t rename my son. This is my last word.”

“If only…” Lloyd grins. “Now…go to bed mommy. We men need to talk about something…”

You reluctantly leave the room, looking over your shoulder before you reach the door. “No swear words, Lloyd.”

“I wouldn’t dream of swearing next to our baby boy.”

“You’re a bad liar.”

“I love you too, sugar cake,” he grins. “I’ll be right with you.”

The moment you are out of the room Lloyd gets something out of his pocket. He shows it to your son, smirking.

“What do you say, little shit? Will she like the ring?”

Tags in reblog.

[writers-hes]

In the Bleak Midwinter

SYNOPSIS: You always knew Tommy as the cheerful boy who took care of you. He always knew you as the smart girl that he visited by the docks. The daughter of a prostitute, the son of a deadbeat father; a soldier who protected his country; a whore who protected him; a gangster who controlled Brimingham; and now, a wife. War changes people, you just didn't realize that war could change you both. (angst, abuse, canon-typical themes, death, war, MDNI, mature themes) AN: Don’t look at the comments / reblogs if you don’t want spoilers!! But please discuss what you think once you’re done reading 🤍

Toy Horses Outside the Brothel | Tommy Shelby x Reader | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5

PROTECTION SERIES TAGLIST | PROTECTION MASTERLIST navigation

“So fucking close…” he whispers to himself, inhaling. He turns around and looks up, maybe he could conjure you right now. One last time before he died. “Oh and there’s a woman…a woman who I love and I got close. Nearly got fucking everything!” he shouts. “Oh, what the fuck. Get it done, boys,” he tells them. He kneels before the man. 

“In the bleak midwinter…” Tommy says to himself, voice raspy and tired. “In the bleak midwinter…” he whispers to himself, his body shaking. He didn’t know where he was. He just knew that he was going to get killed today. The hole on the ground is where he’ll be buried and he never got the chance to be with you. “In the bleak…in—“

He couldn’t die today. Dread fills his body. You were still at the tracks with Simon. This wasn’t a part of the plan. He was supposed to kill Simon. He was supposed to have fun while doing it while you sat, unaware with Alfie Solomons in the private room. Sweat trickles on his face, and he closes his eyes. The blood on his forehead had dried up and his heart was beating wildly in his chest. He couldn’t believe that the last thing he ever did on this fucking ground was smoke a cigarette. So close. So close…so fucking close. 

The sound of a gun going off echoes in the vast field and he finds himself inside the hole. He stays there, appalled. 

“Get out of the grave, tinker! Be on your fucking way!”

He stumbles out, unbalanced. Shock was still inside his body. He trips and lands on his face, his palms on the wet ground and he screams. So fucking close. He shakes his head, standing up and sobbing as he did so, on the way home…on the way to you. 

He pours himself a glass of Irish whisky. He’s got some ideas for the future of the company…and also, he’s planning on getting something. 

In the bleak midwinter, frosty wind made moan, earth stood hard as iron…

BIRMINGHAM, 1922

Tommy couldn’t believe his fucking luck. How many times does he have to wait for things to finally fucking settle? How many more years should he wait for you? He didn’t mind—how could he ever mind when it came to you? 

He couldn’t forget the relief that washed over him when Alfie called him to say that the job’s been done. He was supposed to get the locket in his office and go to the tracks but Alfie stopped him. 

“Y/N killed Simon Coventry,” Alfie said. “Shot him dead like…mush, bone, mush. Saw her checking for his heartbeat after. I told her not to cry over spilled milk,” he snickers. “Do you get it, mate? Spilled milk?”

He tells Tommy about how shaken you were after the police investigation…how you kept it to yourself until the last officer went out. You were wailing and stuttering ‘he’s dead’ over and over. Alfie told him that he will get one of his men to send the gun to his office for safekeeping. Tommy knew that he should give you some time but he couldn’t wait anymore. He knew that you sold your London mansion and lived in Birmingham now. He knew that you bought the mansion with the garden; the one where you both used to frequent in as kids. He knew that all because he had some of the Blinders guard the property from afar. He knew that all because he passed by the house to get a glimpse of you but the house was quiet, eerie, and lacked life. Polly nor Ada couldn’t get in yet. It all happened too much…too fast…in a span of years, to have Simon dead at the sound of a gun was shocking. 

It’s been a year and he couldn’t believe he waited that long to come visit you when he knows you the most. He shakes with anticipation everyday. He was looking forward to seeing you last year, to finally telling you all about his love for you. Maybe it was him who needed you more because you made your own world without him, but he couldn’t give a fuck anymore. You’ve both been apart for what felt like decades and he will burn the world if he’s apart from you for a day more. 

It was raining and he drove to your house in his black car. The mansion with a garden. How foolish you both were when you dreamed those dreams. Life was never that easy. Blood was shed, lives were taken for his ambition. It didn’t matter right now. Not in this second. The rain just gets stronger. He forgot his umbrella but it didn’t matter. Nothing else mattered right now. He could see your figure from the back of the house looking through the French windows of your new home. Funny, you both got what you wanted. He got the Arrow House and you had this manor but they were both so fucking lifeless. He imagined a different house. He imagined a house with kids, with you during the war. He was looking at you and frowned when he saw you leave. Should he knock at the door? Should he just go back? Did you even want to see him?

Drops of rain wet his coat and he removed his Peaky hat, tossing it away to fix his hair. He should’ve gotten an umbrella. His shoes slosh with every step and the chill eats away his bones but he will be warm soon.  

Thunder wakes the Birmingham sky and he sees you…a few metres away from him in your dress. 

“Tommy!” you called, an umbrella in your hand. You rushed towards him to give him shelter from the rain. The mud from the grass made your bare feet wet but you didn’t care. Tommy was here…he was finally here. He meets you halfway, underneath your black umbrella. He smiles, chest against yours. 

“We can’t fit,” he chuckled, a glimmer of the youth that you used to see in his eyes appearing. “Y/N,”

“Tommy,” you replied, a bashful smile on your face. “Let’s go inside,” you tell him but he holds your arm to keep you from leaving. “Tom?”

“I’m sorry,” he says, his hand coming up to touch your face but he wasn’t sure. Was it alright to touch you now? “I—I,” he tries to think of words to say, every single emotion getting trapped in his throat. He coughs, shaking his head. “I miss you,”

A single tear trails down your cheek and you wipe it away. 

“Looks like the world is finally quiet,” you replied, smiling at him. “I’ve missed you too, Tom,” you chuckled, laying your head on his chest. “I’ve missed you so, so, so much,”

He nods, wrapping his arms around you. You look at him again, a small smile on your face. 

“Did you know that…that—“ he coughs. Fuck.

“Tommy?”

“I’ve always thought of ways to tell you this back in the war and I just—I guess the delays and everything and fuck, love. I’ve loved you since we played with your toy horses outside the brothel,” he breathes out. “And I’m sorry, so, so fucking sorry that it took me so long to tell you. That you had to go through all that because you thought that I didn’t love you when I did. I’ve loved you since then and I still love you now. I love you and I just hope that I’m not too late because God, Y/N. You were the one who saved me..who protected me all these years and I can’t lose you again,” he tells you, his hands cradling your face. “I thought…I thought I was going to die when Sabini’s men took me, Y/N and all I could think of was you. How were you? Were you free? You were the only one in my head. I couldn’t stop thinking about you. I love you, Y/N. I love you so, so much,” he adds tenderly, his forehead against yours. You were smiling at him, tears streaming down your face. Tommy loves you. Tommy loves you. 

“I love you too, Tommy,” you whispered. “I’ve loved you all this time. I can’t believe we’re finally here,” you smiled at him. Tommy throws away the umbrella in your hand. He takes your chin with his fingers gently. Tommy could feel his heart beat faster and faster. He knew that if he'd kiss you now, he’d dream of your beautiful face and soft lips forever. With bated breath, he takes in your expressions, trying to look for any signs of doubt but he couldn’t see it. Is this how it’s like to kiss the face of an angel? He licks his lips and then…and then, he kisses you. He was reborn. His reincarnation was complete. Earthly lifetimes before this had nothing on the life that he will build with you. He loves you. You love him. Tommy kisses you with years of passion and tenderness in his heart. The crease on his brows melts away and your whimpering sounded like God whispering to his ear. Nevermind the rain, nevermind everything. You were here and so was he. 

-

Tommy’s been staying over at your house ever since you professed your love for each other. He’d leave in the morning to attend to some business and then come back in the afternoon, shedding layers of today’s work into your arms. 

“How are you so beautiful?” he asks in hushed tones. His finger trails down your cheek gently. “I love you,”

“Tommy,” you chuckled. “You’ve been showering me with praise.”

“I’ve been waiting all my life to say these things to you, love. I’ll make up for those lost years everyday.” 

“I love you, Tommy,” you told him, rising from your position to kiss his cheek. “I don’t think I can love anyone else as much as I love you,”

“Pol knows about us,” he whispers. “I think John and Arthur are wondering where I’m always off to because they never see me home,”

“Nothing escapes past her,” you told him. “I miss her…I still can’t believe she intercepted those letters. I don’t know…I can’t hold a grudge against her but I can’t…”

“It’s alright. I understand,” he replied. “Took me a while to get over it too because…because if she didn’t, we’d have all of this earlier,”

“Why didn’t you tell me that you loved me before?”

“I wanted to tell you before I left but I can’t make you wait for me that long. I knew I was coming back to you but what if I couldn’t?” he asked. He holds your body closer to him. The hushed tones that you spoke in made the bedroom so homey, comfortable, and nice. His chin falls on the top of your head. “Why didn’t you tell me that you loved me?”

“I didn’t want you to love me,” you told him. “I was a prostitute, Tom and I…I don’t want to love you when I can’t give you all of me,” you whispered.

“It wouldn’t have mattered. I would have done something to make sure that you wouldn’t have to do any of that.” he said. He takes your fingers into his, weaving his with yours. 

-

“Are you off to see Y/N again?” Polly asked, sipping on her tea while she watched her nephew fix his coat. Tommy patted himself down, making sure that everything was in place. 

“Of course, Pol,” he smiles. “Off to see my woman,”

“Can…can you tell her that she’s invited for Sunday’s dinner?” Polly asked, wiping her worries away by rubbing her hands. “I’ve missed her. The family misses her,”

“I’ll try to,” Tommy replied. “But don’t expect anything, Pol,”

“Of course,” she replied. Her lips pursed together. “I wanted to tell her about…how sorry I am for the things I’ve done. It should have been your decision to stay in touch and not mine, no matter how much I justify it. I—I feel as though it was my fault for putting her through all of that, Tom,”

“Thank you, Pol,” Tommy nodded. 

“What has she been up to these days?” she asked.

“Fixing her estate and her properties,” he replied. “She’s been mostly cooped inside the house,” Polly only nods to herself, unsure of what to say. Tommy leaves with a click of his tongue. 

When he arrived at your house, you were in your office, sorting through some of the documents Simon left you. You look up at him from where you were sitting with a smile and he takes that as a sign to come closer. He kisses your shoulder lightly before reading over the documents. 

“You want to rest?” he asked, voice husky. He puts his hands on your shoulders and massages you gently. 

“Thanks, Tommy,”

“Polly’s inviting you to come to Sunday’s dinner,” he says. “You don’t have to go if you don’t want to nor do you have to answer now. Ada’s gonna be there along with Karl. John and the kids…Arthur and Finn. Pol and then, me,”

Tommy kisses the top of your head, watching you sort through the papers. 

“Can I…can I think about it?” you asked him. You could see how important it is to him but you couldn’t agree just because he’s Tommy. It didn’t work that way anymore. He hums, satisfied with your reply before sitting on the chair adjacent to the table. 

“Anything I can do to help?” he asked. 

“Just…some of his unsettled accounts,” you sighed. “I want them paid to avoid issues,” you told him. He takes a document and reads it over. Oh. “I want to start a foundation for children or at least, fund an orphanage and a school,” 

“Do it,” he tells you. “Simon has left a considerable amount of properties to last generations.”

“What time should I go to Arrow House for Sunday’s dinner?” you asked. Tommy halts and looks at you with a grateful smile. 

“I’ll come get you,” he says, kissing your cheek. “Thank you. I know it’s not easy,” he tells you. You only nod, if Tommy can look at you like that again, then a thousand awkward dinners don’t mean a thing. 

-

Sunday comes and you stand at the door of Arrow House with his hand on your back. He could see you fumble nervously. You almost looked shy. An amused smile graces his face. Why would you be so shy when you’ve told John off multiple times? You helped raise Finn. Ada basically considers you as a sister. You were the only person that Arthur respects. Polly thinks of you as her daughter. 

“Are you ready?” he asks, his raspy voice coating you like honey. You nod and he chuckles, opening the door to his mansion.

The Shelbys were everywhere. Ada was running after Karl and John’s kids. Arthur was laughing at something that John probably said. Polly was nowhere to be found, probably fussing in the kitchen. 

“See? It’s like you never left,” he comforts you. He knows better than to have the attention all on you so he tries to slip past everyone without being noticed. Still, your arrival was much awaited and soon enough, you were engulfed in strong arms.

“Y/N!” John greets, hugging you tighter. “Oh, everyone! Y/N’s here!” he announces and you chuckle. 

“John…” Tommy warns but before his little brother can let you go, Arthur slings an arm around your shoulder. 

“How are you, dove?” he asked. 

“I’ve been well,” you replied. Ada comes next, shooing her brothers away to have you all to herself. 

“Y/N. It’s been so long since we last saw each other. You loom as radiant as ever! I hope my idiot brother’s treating you well, hm?” she asked, pointedly looking at an amused Tommy who was leaning by the fireplace. “Seriously, how are you? Are you doing well?” she asks in a  more serious tone.

“I am,” you replied. “Sorry it took me a year to recover,” you replied. 

“We understand, Y/N. We could’ve waited longer but Tommy here couldn’t. He was so fidgety!” she chuckled. “Basically pissed on everyone for a whole year! He almost got in a brawl with Arthur. That’s how miserable Tommy was but then again, you’ve never really seen Tommy being aggressive,”

“I haven’t,” you replied. Honestly, you were so glad that Tommy kept his gang and violence from you. You’ve never seen him land a punch even though you knew that he slept beside a gun. 

“Thank you for coming, though,” Ada says. “We all missed you and we wanted to come visit you but Tommy warned us to give you time and space until you’re ready after what happened,”

“You know that I’m always happy to be here. Everything was just too much at so little time, Ada,” you replied. “I’m sorry if I ever made it seem like I didn’t want you to be with me when I moved back here. I needed room to grow and heal,”

“You don’t have to apologise, Y/N. In any case, I actually feel quite guilty for the things that I allowed myself to put you through. All of us played a part in your marriage with Simon Coventry. I just…if you’re being forced or if there’s an inkling that you don’t want to be with Tommy—“

“Ada!” you laughed lightly. It puts a smile on her face. How long has it been since you laughed like that? “I’m alright. I love Tommy and I love your family. There’s not a day that I don’t want to see him. I’m always looking forward to his visits and when he can't, I still do the same anyway.” you told her. 

“That’s great,” she smiled. “I’m happy for you, Y/N. Tommy’s really lucky,”

You were so engrossed with your conversation with Ada that you didn’t see Polly approaching. It was Ada who called Polly over. Tension settles on your spine; creeping up like ice. Your throat dries and Ada coughs. 

“I’ll leave you two alone,” she says, smiling at you encouragingly before leaving. Polly walks towards you cautiously, scared that she’ll scare you. You smile at her tightly, your cheeks hurting from the control. 

“I…” you sighed, looking away. “I know that you want what is best for me but you didn’t have to intercept the letters,” you started. “I know that we didn’t know when Tommy’s coming back…or if he’s coming back and you wanted me to take the opportunity to–”

“Y/N,” she stops you, a soft hand on your crossed arms. “You don’t have to defend me. I’m so sorry for what happened and for what I did. I had no right to do what I did. If it wasn’t for me, you’d be happy…you’d–” she chokes. “I’m so sorry, my love,” she whispers, a stray tear on her face. She tries to shake it off. “I’m really sorry. I hope you find it in your heart to forgive me someday,”

“But I forgive you, Pol,” you told her. “It was hard to do so and it’s harder to repair what we lost but you can’t blame yourself for the things that Simon did. We both didn’t know,” you told her. “Thank you for apologising and…thank you for always looking out for me,”

“I’m sorry, Y/N. I’m so, so, so sorry,” she cried. She could feel her throat tighten and her eyes glisten. You smiled at her. Maybe this was what you needed to finally close that part in your life.

The afternoon was filled with reunions and with warmth. A regular weekend at the Shelby’s, just like when you and Tommy were younger. Oh how you’ve missed them–how you’ve missed having a family. 

-

The night was quiet at the Arrow House. Everybody left at the sight of nightfall, dimming laughter filling the halls. You and Tommy were at the drawing room in the second storey of his mansion, looking at the cars that left one by one. He wraps his arms around your shoulders, his chin on the crook of your neck. He breathes in and kisses what he could kiss. 

“You alright?” he asked, pulling you closer. 

“Very,” you told him. “Made me realise how much I missed having your family around…I miss having a family,” 

“You are a part of us, you know that, right?” he asked.

“I know,” you replied, laying closer to him. 

“You can be a part of us. A real Shelby,” he whispers. “Y/N, look at me,” he asks of you, removing his hands gently and turning your around.

“Tommy?”

“Did you know Polly told me that only love can blind a man as powerful as me?” he asked. “I realised that wasn’t the case. It was you all along, love. My love for you is secondary. You’re the one who makes me weak, who makes me blind. I love you so much. I’ll burn the world if it means that you’re safe, you’re with me, and you’re happy. Y/N, do you want to be a Shelby?” he asked. He pulls out a ring from his bolster shakily. You’ve never seen him nervous. “I’ve held onto this for so long. This was the first thing I bought when I came back from war,” he says. The gold ring with a single diamond glimmers. “I thought of getting you something else…a bigger diamond, maybe but material things don’t matter to me anymore. The only thing I can promise is my love, my loyalty. I am the only thing I can promise you. I’m quite scared because if you’ll marry me, you’ll marry a man and you will marry a curse. I can’t…I can’t go on like this anymore. I can’t go on without you anymore. It’s selfish, I know but will you marry me, Y/N?” he asked. You stood there, dumbfounded. 

“Tommy–of course, I’ll marry you,” you replied, tears streaming down your face. “I’ve loved you for so long,” you chuckled, extending your hand towards his equally shaky ones. He puts the ring on your ring finger. It has always belonged to you. “I’ll marry you right now. Oh, Tom,” you cried, kissing him feverishly. He wraps his arms around your waist and pulls you closer. Is this life even real?

“Let’s go to my bedroom,” he rasps and you nod. He holds your hand with his gentle ones and sits you on the bed. He smiles at you in the dimming light of his bedroom. “You’re so beautiful,” he whispers. He was afraid to see you disappear if he was too loud. “So beautiful for me,” he says, tucking a stray hair and kissing the spot under your ear. You hum, fishing for the buttons of his shirt and he chuckles, forcefully removing it from himself. 

“Tom,” you whispered, unbuttoning your dress. He nods, leaning on the headboard and letting you straddle him. The softness of your skin against his was sending him over the edge but he chooses to control himself. He lets your dress and brassiere fall on your shoulders, your breasts bare to him. He angles himself, taking a nipple in his mouth and licking it softly. You whimpered, the feeling of his mouth on one of the most sensitive parts of your body was something that you never thought was going to happen. 

“Is it alright if I bite?” he asked and you nodded. “Say it. Come on, love,”

“Do whatever you want to me, Tommy,” you mewled, hands massaging your silky breasts while he sucks on your nipple.

“Fuck, love,” He groans at your response, bucking his hips unexpectedly. “The things you do to a man, Y/N. The things you do to me,” his hands travel on your sides, goosebumps appearing from the softness of his touch. Tommy cups your heat through your underwear. “Remove your dress for me,”

You nod, the cold hitting you all at once when you raised yourself from him. He watches the fabric flow so softly until you are left with nothing but your underwear. 

“Remove that too,” he says, and you nodded. “You’re so obedient, Y/N,” he praises. “May I?” he asked and you nodded, a thick finger dipping in your wetness. You both moaned at the contact before he removed it slowly. You watched as he brought his finger up to his mouth, making a show of licking you off of him. “You’re so sweet,” 

“Tommy,” you whimpered. “Don’t tease me,” 

“Alright, alright,” he replied. You remove yourself from him, laying down on the bed with your legs spread wide. He can see your pussy glisten and he curses himself, removing his pants hastily before joining you. “Spit,” he orders you, his hand waiting expectedly by your mouth. You obliged and watched him jerk himself off. “Tell me what you want, Y/N,” he says. 

“Tommy–”

“Please,” he begs. “I’ll do it. I’ll fucking do it,”

“I want you to make love to me, Tommy,” you whimpered. “Please show me how much you love me,” 

“Oh, love,” he groans. Tommy comes towards you, so close, so warm. His hands found your knees and he caressed your knees. “You're so beautiful, darling,” 

“Tom,” you mewled. His prying fingers found your heat. He cups your mound and then parts your folds, rubbing them up and down. He smiles at you, leaning over your figure until his nose brushes yours. 

“Hey,” he tells you. He watches you closely and he wonders why he never had the courage to tell you how much he loved you earlier. The curve of your lips, the lashes on your eyes…he wanted to memorise every part of you and commemorate it. He leans down, his mouth on your mouth, kissing you so slowly. This is love, you thought. Tommy nudges your legs wider apart, his tip pressing into your wetness. “Fuck, love,” he rasps, rutting into your more roughly.

“I need you inside me, Tom,” you breathed. He nods, aligning himself on your wet slit. He feels the anticipation run through his veins. He never would have even dreamed of this. In a slow stroke, Tommy’s cock finds its way inside easily; years of longing, passion, and pent-up emotions seeping through your pores. 

“You’re, ugh—“ he groans. Fuck. “Don’t fucking move yet. I’ll—“

“Tom—“ you mewled, grinding on his pelvis in circles. You felt full; you felt complete. 

“Love, please,” he begs. “Let me…let me savour this. Want this to last,” He feels your body relax and he sighs. Really, if he decided to move now, he’s only going to embarrass himself. He curses to himself, ashamed that he had to pull himself back a little bit. “I’m going to move, yeah?” he asked and you could only nod. Tommy leans his figure over yours, his lips landing on your nipple. He licks on it lightly as he adjusts himself. He pulls out slowly, before going back in slowly. 

You both moan in unison. Tommy continues his movements while he sucked on your nipple. Your hands find their way to his hair, pulling it softly. 

“I love you, Tom,” you whimpered,feeling his cock rubbing inside. “I love you so much,”

“Mmm,” he only hums, his attention on your other nipple now. Your fingers find their way onto your clitoris and you rub circles on it while Tommy fucks you deeper. “Fuck,” he groans, breaking away from the comfort of your arms and leaning back. He removes your hand and raises one of your legs. You watched as Tommy fucks you faster, but now it was deeper and you felt more full because of your new position. “Oh, fuck,” he rasps, his thumb coming in contact with your clit.

“Tommy,” you moaned when you felt his rough thumb rubbing circles. “Fuck, I—“ 

“It’s alright, darling. I will take —good—care—of—you,” he said, thrusting harder into you to make his point. “You won’t have to worry about anything anymore. You have me…your Tommy,”

“My Tommy,” you whispered, as if it was a new concept when Tommy knew that he belonged to you from the very start. Still, hearing the words come from your mouth excites him. 

“Say it again,”

“My Tommy,” you repeated. “Fuck, Tommy,” you mewled, pinching your nipples together. 

“Fuck, you want me to fuck babies into you?” he asked, quickening his pace. 

“Yes, Tommy, please!” you whimpered. “Going to make you a daddy,”

“I’m going to make love to you everyday and cum inside your pretty pussy, yeah?” he rasps, his cock fucking your wet pussy harder. “Oh fuck,”

The lewd sounds of skin slapping against skin, your wetness welcoming him with every thrust fills the room. You were both high, moans and grunts filling every crevice of the room. Tommy fucks you sloppier while your fingers play with your clit. 

“I’m close, ugh—Tommy,” you grunted. “Tom, Tom, Tommy,”

“Let go, love,” he whimpered. “Go on,” 

His words fuelled you and you released a high pitched moan as he felt your walls clench around him. The feeling of your pussy milking him sends him into overdrive and you feel it. You felt his warm cum coating your walls.

“Fuck, Y/N,” he moans, thrusting his hips into you even more to chase his orgasm. “I love you. I fucking love you,” he rasps, collapsing into you.

“I love you, Tommy,” you replied, playing with the soft tendrils of his hair. He lays there, unmoving, his softening cock still inside you. 

“Let’s stay like this forever,” he says, kissing your breast. 

“Alright,”

“Now, you’ve seen me,”

“And you’ve seen me,”

-

BIRMINGHAM, 1925

“Tom!” you shrieked, looking at the muddy footprints that stained your white carpet. Over the last few years, you both decided that it would be best to stay at your place instead of the Arrow House. You both agreed that it was too dark and too lonely. It was so unlike the lush gardens, the water fountain, and the scurrying feet of the maids in your house. Besides, Tommy liked it here better. It was brighter, happier, and his nephews and nieces loved to visit. 

“Oh no,” he hears a child say. “Oh, no, no, no,”

“Shh,” he crouches down to her height. “If we’re quiet, mum won’t see us,”

“Thomas Shelby! I told you to leave the boots outside whenever you’re out with the horses,” 

“Dad—I don’t want to get mummy mad,” she whispers. “Let’s say sorry,”

Tommy looks at his daughter with wonder in his eyes. He never knew he’d love someone else as much as he loves you.

“Alright,” he nods, bracing himself. “Come on,”

His daughter holds his hands and gets out of the hiding place. She immediately cowers behind her father when she sees the hand on your hip.

“It was dad’s fault!” you heard her say, running towards you and hugging your legs. “Daddy did it!”

You frowned at Tommy but he could see the smile that dared to crack. 

“Oh, bub. Where’s your loyalty to your old man, hmm?” he asked, a hand over his heart. “Darling, I must let you know that…” he trailed off kissing your cheek first. “Our daughter here is a natural,”

“Tommy…”

“I know, I know,” he soothed, massaging the crease between your eyebrows. “We’re sorry, right, bub?” he asked your little girl. She nodded, looking up at you. “Traitor,” Tommy whispers to himself before ruffling her hair. 

“Just don’t do it again, alright?” you asked him. 

BIRMINGHAM, 1913

“Do you think there’s a future where the two of us can be together?” Tommy asked. Upon seeing your panicked reaction, he coughs. “What I meant is…that we’ll still be like this,”

“Of course, we will,” you replied. “Only better…because by that time, we won’t have to worry about anything anymore because we’re together.”

“Really?”

“Of course, Tommy. You’re the most important person in my life. I don’t know what I’ll do if I lose you too,” you replied, looking at him, trying to look for his reaction. You looked away when you saw the ghost of a smile paint his features. He’s always been so handsome. 

“You won’t,” he replied, taking your hand to make that promise. “You won’t ever lose me,” he tells you. 

“I guess, I won’t.”

END A/N: I am so sorry for taking so long to upload this. I really am sorry. I'll be uploading a separate author's not soon. But for now, thank you. Thank you, thank you, thank you. TAGLIST:  @shelbydelrey @runnning-outof-time @duckybird101 @thenattitude @swordofawriter @litteltourtius​ @trixie23​ @everythingelseisextra​ @majesticcmey @liveat1am @dumb-wh @denabp16 @yvonna-chan @goldensunflowe-r @therosabel @hunnibearrr @dazecrea @daddyslittleattentionwhore @the-girl-wh0-cries-w0lf @dang-shawty-okay @dasia21 @tsenthusiast1920 @aces-tattooartist @panda-luminary @ttaechi @spencerrxids @i-heart-food @fudge13 @affabletimelady @heartcereql @ce1iat @notalxx @1800-queen-trash @sweetwanderlust05 @globetrotter28 @thebestandworstdayofjune @reggxe-a @verreuckteli @vampireluck @zoexme @liter4ti @quixscentsposts @homosexualjohnwayne @charli123456789 @Maria_elizabeth21

[sparkbeast20]

Dribble idea: Bael having way better self-restrain, however Beelzebub feed something to MC that make their natural scent even more irritable. The catch is, only devils who has strong sense of smell can pick that up.

Let's say Beelzebub did gave MC one of his cooking that cause this change of scent. However he senses danger outside of Abyssos so he left to deal with that taking Amon, Stolas and Naberius along with him. Leaving MC with Bael cause he refuse to leave his work when other devils can handle this issue. (He would help if necessary).

But this was Bael biggest challenge, because he can smell MC's scent all too well, to the point it makes it hard for him to focus on his work. Whenever MC isn't in his office, he has a peace of mind. But the moment is by the door of his office. It's like punch to his brain. The scent is too strong that it makes him think of all the things he wants to do to MC- Wait, what was he thinking!?!?!

He refuse to be like that deadbeat of a king. He's better than that!

"Bael?" MC called from the other side of the door, and along that is that scent... God its driving him mad!!

"Yes?" At the surface, Bael is the same old Bael, with a calm look on his face, but underneath... He feels like he wants to tear off this false king façade and be a devil again-

MC peek through the door to see Bael by his deck, head down to his papers as he wrote down notes before stumping them with Beelzebub's sigil making it official.

As MC enter and gotten closer to him, Bael bite the inside of his cheek, and crosses his legs... 'Ha! As if this would clam down my fucking bone-'

"Bael..." He notice that MC sounded different, he looked up and saw that they were panting and clinching on their chest. "Beelzebub was suppose to help me... But he and the others left to fight angels... But I don't think I can wait for him... I know that your busy and all. But would you mind... Helping me-"

Not letting MC finish their sentences, Bael stood up and gently push MC to sit on his desk. MC was to say something about his papers, but Bael latched his lips into MC, he waiting until MC gave him a subtle sigh to keep going, so he drove deeper into the kiss. He can feel MC feeling his waist and abs before landing their hands on his chest, even with his skintight suit. MC manage to find his nipples and start fiddling and pinching them. He moan and groan.

"Bael..."

"Yes..."

"Let me relieve you... let me make you feel good~"

He was a man that need to learn self-restrain just so he would be better then his best friend... But for one night, he would cut lose... Just this once~

[chaotickinks]

It was supposed to just be a normal day. A simple train ride, a long day at work, a second train ride, and finally, home. Home to an ungrateful, deadbeat husband who did nothing but make wisecracks. The house may not be an absolute wreck, but it certainly wasn’t nice.

But this day… this day turned out different. When you boarded your train, it was standing room only. And so, with a sigh, you grabbed a rail and looked around, hoping that there was a seat available. It wasn’t long before the train started again, and you felt hands on you. You could have chalked it up to the accidental bumping- if it weren’t for the fact that the hands stayed on you.

It wasn’t long before the hands were roaming your body, feeling up your tits and ass, dipping between your legs. Your squirming only seems to make this Stranger touch you more, and it’s not long before you feel his rock hard meat pressed against your ass.

Unfortunately, as you feel his shaft against you, the train slows and the Stranger pulls away. As several people get off, a seat opens up, and you take it. As you sit and wait, and indeed, all throughout the day, you think about that Stranger. About his hands roaming your body. And for the first time in years, you feel yourself getting turned on.

Wet throughout the day with no way to relieve yourself, you make it back home and start drawing a bath. As you undress, desperate for some alone time with you and your hand, you find a slip of paper in your pocket. Intrigued, you read it, blushing more and more as you think about the consequences. Indeed, as you touch yourself, you’ve never felt like this before.

And yet, you struggle. The instructions you were given… how scandalous. Weeks go by, and you’re always on the lookout for the Stranger. Wondering who it could be. Yet he never shows himself. Finally, after a few months of sexual frustration, of craving the Stranger, you give in. One morning, you find yourself dressed in a short skirt with no panties.

As you board the train, you wonder what’s gonna happen. And sure enough, the Stranger is back. As the train starts, you feel his hands on you. But this time, they dive under your skirt, playing with your nether lips. You can feel his hot breath on the back of your neck, and you reach back to grab his cock through his pants, eager to feel it.

And again, your time with the Stranger is cut short. And this time, you watch him leave a note, as he rather obviously slides it into your bra. Biting your lip, you pull it out and hide it in your purse, waiting to read it in your office. And when you do… it’s clear that the Stranger knows you intimately. All about your struggles and frustrations. Where you live and work. Your entire routine is known.

Alongside that is very explicit details on what to do if you want more. Details leading you to a cabin in the woods, miles from any kind of civilization.