#all she wanted to do was make sure her only family left was okay and now everything is in shambles

[penkura]

Holly Jolly Christmas

Summary: Your first Christmas with the Heart Pirates leads you out on deck for a few moments alone, only to be joined by your captain making sure you're okay.

Note: Just wanted to write something like this, Reader needing to step away to get their feelings in check and Law being willing to listen. :) Again, SORRY IT'S SO LATE. I went to see Sonic 3 this morning after church and it threw my whole day off. (:

“Oh come on, stay inside with us! It’s chilly out there!”

“I’ll be fine, Ikkaku, I just need some air!”

She rolls her eyes at you but doesn’t fight, instead being pulled away by Shachi for a dance while you laugh and step outside to the deck of the Polar Tang, taking a breath and feeling at ease. The holiday party your crewmates were throwing was starting to overwhelm you, a small break is all you need, some fresh air and the chance to collect yourself. It’s still hard to believe this is your life sometimes, that you’re a member of this crew and have friends that care about you, including a captain that wants you to stay safe. People who like and want you around, it’s so different from before.

Your first year with the Heart Pirates was coming to an end, right at Christmas time too. Never in your wildest dreams did you ever think a pirate captain would request you to join them after seeing you protect yourself from some robbers on your home island, you just wanted to be able to eat that night and keep your hard-earned money from them. Apparently it was enough that day to convince Law you would be a good addition to his crew, for some reason you felt like you couldn’t say no even though he didn’t scare you or anything. It felt like something told you that day to go, not like you had anyone to return to at home anyway. Most people on your home island tolerates you enough to pay you for small jobs, but no one cared when you left, you’re sure of that.

It didn’t matter though, once you were introduced to everyone, they all took a quick liking to you and showed you the ropes, taught you how the ship worked and everything you’d need to know for life as a Heart Pirate. You learned everything as quickly as you could, you didn’t want to be seen and burden or dead weight on the crew, and not one of your new friends thought that about you, they all gave Law good reports when they’d help you with anything.

You’re grateful for everything that’s happened the last year, watching your crewmates have fun tonight and enjoy themselves. It’s really like having a family again.

“There a reason you’re out here alone?”

Hearing Law’s voice just makes you smile at him over your shoulder, before he joins you leaning against the railing. Of course he’d find you, he’s very good at that lately. Sometimes it feels like he's actively seeking you out, though that could just be wishful thinking.

“I just needed some air, captain.”

“You don’t have to call me that when it’s just us, I’ve told you that,” Law rolls his eyes while you giggle at him, “Doing okay?”

You nod with a small hum, you know he won’t press too hard to find out what’s going on, he already knows everything about you. Law never pushed but always listened when you wanted to talk about your previous life, when he noticed you weren’t doing well one day and it ended in you sobbing in his arms for hours about your lost family. He was awkward about it but didn’t make you leave until you were calm again, it made him realize there was more that you hadn’t told him at that point.

You two were more alike than Law ever expected when he brought you on.

“I need to thank you, Law,” he looks over to you with furrowed brows, but you’re not even looking at him, “If you all hadn’t shown up last year, I probably—”

“Enough, you don’t have to thank me again.”

You laugh with a nod as Law rolls his eyes once again, before you reach over and hug him. It’s taken some time but you’ve gotten Law used to these random hugs, he’s even started returning them like he does now.

“Still though, I’m grateful…getting to know all of you and feel like I belong somewhere again…thank you for saving me, captain.”

“…we’re all glad to have you here.”

You both stay like that for a while, even though it’s cold out and you know Law will want you inside shortly to get warm again.  But these moments with just the two of you are rare, some people would question your relationship if it’s just captain and subordinate or something else there, but you’re happy with where the two of you are.

“All right, you lovebirds, everyone’s waiting for you to do Secret Santa already!”

The two of you almost up away from each other, Law giving Penguin a glare while you look away, your older crewmate having a smirk on his face.

“I won’t tell anyone, don’t worry. But really, come on! Everyone wants to open gifts!”

“Fine,” Law sighs, waving Penguin and keeping a hand on your shoulder, “We’ll be there in a moment.”

“Sure thing, cap!”

Penguin runs off to get everyone ready, leaving you and Law alone against. He’s obviously annoyed but it makes you smile anyway. It might be more than either of you are ready for, but you grab his hand and starts walking back into the Polar Tang.

“Better not keep everyone waiting, right, Law?”

“Yeah…guess so…”

You’ll tease him about the light blush on his face later, but tonight, you’ll keep the smile he gives you later on to yourself, and the fact you were his Secret Santa will be your personal secret until Law questions you about it.

You’re the only one who could’ve given him those coins from your home island anyway.

[pretend-theres-a-name-here]

Mistletoe

short Christmas Steddie fic I wrote while writing part 6 of Hide Your Heart that kinda turned into Byler at the end but oh well

“Mistletoe. You know what that means” Dustin waggled his eyebrows as he nudged Steve, pushing his way beside him at the kitchen counter.

Steve had come to the kitchen to be out of the way and found himself watching their group—his family—from afar, taking in the fact that they had beat Vecna and were all alive to celebrate Christmas together. At least he’d been doing that until Dustin spotted him.

“You’re gonna get a rash?” 

He rolled his eyes, “No-” 

“You’re allergic, dude.”

“I didn’t hang it!” Dustin burst.

“Then why are we talking about this?” Steve knew why, he just hoped that annoying the kid would make him drop it.

“Because! You’re here, there’s mistletoe,” Dustin gestured to the plant hanging in the living room doorway across from them, “Nancy’s here.” There it was.

“Look, Henderson, I don’t know where you got the idea that that was happening again but it’s not,” Dustin had seemed determined to get a confession out of him, no matter how many times Steve told him it was over, “We’re done, I don’t know what’s got you so sure about this but it doesn’t matter. Never gonna happen.”

Dustin deflated, just a fraction, “You just seem, I don’t know, happy.”

“It’s Christmas, everyone’s happy.” Steve deadpanned, only deflecting because he was happy, eyes scanning the room absentmindedly.

“Yeah but you seem different—like, honeymoon phase happy.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about, man.” He mumbled, distracted.

“C’mon, Nancy’s great. She’s bossy and organized and all proper like you, she’s just your type!”

“Uh huh.” Steve 

He heard the front door open earlier and the only person who wasn’t crowded into the Byer’s living room was—there. He glanced back in time to see dark, curly hair swim through the room, disappearing between bodies.

“You’re looking for her now!” Dustin cried.

“Yeah, that’s nice. Hey, uh, I’ll be right back.” He left Dustin, pushing the front of his hat down for good measure and ignoring his squawk of indignation.

“Steve! This isn’t over, Steve!” 

Steve kept walking, sliding into the living room and trying not to draw too much attention to himself. He found Robin on the couch, arguing with Mike about who knows what, and took the spot on her left. 

“What’s going on?”

“Mike’s having boy troubles.” Robin stage whispered to him.

“I am not!” Mike shot back.

“Okay then tell Steve what you told me.” Robin challenged.

Mike ducked his chin, mumbling under his breath.

“What?” Steve leaned forward to hear him better, “You gotta speak up, man.”

“I said,” Mike seethed, “I was helping the Byers decorate and maybe, kind of, accidentally told Will we were under the mistletoe.”

“Accidentally, right.” Robin teased.

“Well, what’d he do?” Steve knew Will had been nursing a long time crush on Mike and he knew Mike was working through his own sexuality.

Mike turned away, mumbling again.

“Wha—”

“He kissed my cheek!” Mike blushed, “He—I…and then I sort of ran off on him.” Mike groaned.

“Dude…Mike.” Steve sat back in disbelief.

“I know! I know! He’s been avoiding me the whole night and I don’t know what to do! I just—I don’t know how to tell him I wasn’t…like, I wasn’t mad that he kissed me. I wasn’t…oh my god. I want him to kiss me.” Mike’s eyes were wide, almost in fear. 

Steve was no stranger to the fear. He’d dealt with it himself, maybe he was still dealing with it, but he had Robin and Eddie to help him, to help each other. Did Mike know he had them? Did he think he was going through this alone? Steve got an idea, it was risky and he would have to face the fear head on, but it would be worth it. It was also something he’d been thinking about for a while and now, with all of his friends—his family here, he could do it. He glanced around the room, searching for a familiar face in the chaos.

“I’ll be right back.” He whispered to Robin when he found him.

She squeezed his hand because she knew what he was doing, of course she did, they shared a brain, “Good luck.” She whispered.

He caught Eddie’s eye before stepping into the hallway unnoticed. He heard Eddie give Lucas some excuse about going to the bathroom before they were alone.

“I wanna tell them.” Steve said immediately.

Eddie’s eyes widened, “Okay. Okay, sure. They already know about me so this is all you, are you sure?”

“Mike just realized he likes Will,” Steve explained, “I need you to make sure they’re both in the living room when it happens.”

Eddie grinned, “What are you planning?”

His grin only widened when Steve whispered his plan.

Once they were back in the living room Steve made sure to stand in the doorway, trying his best to lean against it casually, no matter how nervous he was getting. Eddie left to the kitchen with the excuse of getting one of Mrs. Byers’ gingerbread cookies and when he came back he took a spot beside Steve. Now they just had to wait.

A minute later El perked up, “Oooh they’re under the mistletoe.” She sang.

“Tradition is tradition.” Eddie shrugged, leaning over to kiss his cheek before pivoting and connected their lips instead.

Steve pulled away expecting the shocked faces of his friends and family only to be met with various knowing smiles. Nobody seemed particularly surprised at this, not even batting an eye when they announced that they’d actually been dating for a while. All but two.

Will was blushing, trying very hard but failing to look away from Mike and Mike, Mike’s eyes were wide. He was staring straight at Steve and Eddie, eyes flicking between the mistletoe and the pair. He shot a glance at Will and his eyes widened even more when he was caught. Mike turned to Steve with a desperate look, almost pleading, so Steve dragged Eddie with him further into the living room and let their friends distract themselves with their questions as the boys slipped out of the room. 

Steve bit back a smile when he saw they were heading for the back porch, a place that conveniently had its own mistletoe hanging. Steve surveyed the room, making sure nobody had seen them, when he caught Joyce’s fond smile following the younger boys. He wasn’t the only one, then.

[jsbluu]

left on seen | chapter 28: mistletoe by justin bieber

➨ chapter 27: party time pt.2 | left on seen masterlist | next

➨ chapter 28 omg MERRY CHRISTMASSSS BABIESS and happy holidays to those who don’t celebrate christmas 😘 hope you guys like this chapter LOL.. 2114 words isn’t that crazy

TAGLIST: @yizhrt @bococostree @sunghoonsgfreal @dinonuguaegi @ddolbyong @4chensungs @vixensss @jirsungs @luffysprincess @nosungluv @akunoeyebrows @sinsgaybutthatsokay @joyzluvr @n0hyuck @mrsbyun-baek @queenrachelpink @botchedbrat @livingdoll-hara @minkyuncutie @gomdoleemyson @17ericas @cookydream @bitchzitschimi @luciavrseblog-com @minhosprettywife @hyukkstar @kyanmeai @shadysnoopy

the uber ride to sunghoon’s party was filled with light chatter (aka gaon yelling and disrupting the poor driver), but your mind was a million miles away. despite being with your friends, you couldn’t stop thinking about jisung. it had only been a few days since you spoke, but those days had made you spiral into a storm of overthinking. had you gone too far asking him to hangout at your apartment? its not like it was a date, especially after he invited mark along. maybe he sensed your intentions and invited mark to let you know he didn’t see you that way. the thought makes your stomach twist, but you try to shake it off as the party approaches.

“are you excited?” liz asks, pulling you away from your thoughts.

“yeah, i think” you reply, trying to sound enthusiastic, but there’s a slight hesitation in your voice. the idea of talking to jisung again had you on edge.

gaon’s beside you, clearly distracted by his own thoughts. you knew he’d been waiting for an excuse to see sunghoon, and this would be the perfect chance to do so. you smile at him, trying to distract yourself from your own anxiety.

“are you planning on talking to sunghoon tonight” you ask, raising an eyebrow.

he blushes a little, glancing out the window shyly like he wasn’t just talking about making out with him 10 minutes ago. “maybe. hes been kinda busy so i haven’t been able to see him recently. but who knows?”

you giggle, nudging him gently with your elbow, “good luck.”

meanwhile, ningning was busy with her phone, the bright light of the screen lighting up her entire face as she smiles. “i still can’t believe chenle asked me to go”

“you guys have been talking for weeks, i’m surprised it took him this long to make a move. i should’ve done it before him…” liz replies, eyeing ningning up and down. you raise your eyebrow at her, holding back laughter to keep the moment going.

“right..” she replies with, looking at liz with an unreadable expression. you giggle and shake your head, looking out the window at the passing christmas lights. its silly, really. you’ve never stayed on campus for christmas before, you always wanted to be with your family and do all the cheesy holiday traditions like usual, but not this year. something about it keeps you here.

as the car pulls up to the house, you notice the sound of music growing louder. the party is in full swing already, and a wave of excitement and dread wash over you at the same time.

“we’re here!” gaon exclaims, practically jumping out of the car.

ningning grabs her bag, throwing you a quick glance. “you okay? you seem kind of distracted.”

you give her a small smile, nodding, “im fine. just.. thinking.”

“about jisung?” gaon teases, catching on instantly, but you quickly shake your head, trying to dismiss it.

“no no, just.. you know, the party. a lot of people are here.”

he raises an eyebrow, patting you on the shoulder. “well i’m sure you’ll be fine. just try to relax and have fun, okay?”

you nod and shoot him a small smile, though it doesn’t feel as easy as it seems.

as soon as you head inside, you scan the area for any sign on jisung. you don’t see him immediately, but you can’t help like you’re waiting for something. as you make your way further into the apartment, you spot chenle and ningning already talking by the dinner table. he’s smiling at her in a way that makes your stomach do a weird flip, but you look away before they notice you staring.

“lets grab drinks first” liz suggests, grabbing your arm and heading towards the counter.

you enter the kitchen, making your way around all of the people standing in the way. gaon follows behind you, admiring the counters covered in various bottles, cans, and half empty solo cups. its noisy, people chatting and laughing around you, but it feels kind of nice. liz immediately grabs a can of soda and hands it to you.

“you’re overthinking again” she teases, nudging your shoulder. “seriously, stop worrying. he’ll either be here or he wont. either way we’ll have fun!”

you glance at her, grateful for her blunt but comforting words. “im trying, its just.. you know, everything is weird right now.”

she shrugs, popping the tab on her drink. “if he’s acting like that, that’s his problem, just have fun, and who knows, maybe you’ll find his replacement” he jokes, smirking at you.

you roll your eyes, a smile escaping your lips despite trying to hide it. “maybe i will” you say, trying to sound confident.

“exactly!” she laughs. “come on, lets go find gaon.”

you’re eventually dragged into a corner of the living room next to the christmas tree, a small break from the chaos of the party. you stand next to gaon, looking somewhat relaxed, he’s a lot quieter than usual. but that’s not surprising since sunghoon is here, and even though this is his party, you haven’t seen him yet.

you let your gaze wander around the room as your sip your drink, trying to let yourself calm down from the anxiety that had been building up for a while. just as you start to settle, something makes you pause.

jisung.

he’s standing near the punch table with mark and leehan, laughing about something. his hair is a little messier than usual, and he’s wearing a sparkly grey sweater, much different than what he usually wears. your heart skips a beat as you watch him. he’s standing there, looking so effortlessly attractive, and you find yourself staring for way too long. you quickly look away, feeling the heat creep up your neck as you avoid eye contact with your friends.

“i.. need some fresh air.” you announce, walking away before anybody could reply. you find yourself walking towards the balcony, and silently thank god that nobody is on there.

jisung watches as you exit the living room, closing the sliding door behind you. leehan follows his gaze and smirks to himself before speaking. “you gonna talk to her?” he asks, his voice low but teasing.

“huh?” he asks, tearing his eyes away from you. his heart speeds up and it’s clear through the tremble in his voice that he’s on the verge of panicking.

mark raises an eyebrow, his tone still teasing, “you’ve been watching her for like 5 minutes straight dude. she’s going outside.. seems like the perfect opportunity.”

his throat feels dry, and his thoughts start to race. he wasn’t exactly planning on talking to you tonight, but he can’t keep pretending like you don’t exist anymore.

“i—uh, no” jisung mutters, his fingers running through his hair showing how stressed he is, “i don’t know, i don’t even know what to say.”

leehan grins, clearly amused by the way jisung is borderline freaking out, “just say you’re afraid to talk to her.”

“i’m not afraid,” jisung responds quickly and sternly, though the slight edge of uncertainty in his voice betrays him. the weight of his words settle over him, and his instincts are telling him to go chase after you and just say something, anything. but he stays still in his place, still letting his thoughts consume him.

“whatever man, just don’t blame us when someone else talks to her.” mark shakes his head, clearly unconvinced by jisung’s words.

he swallows hard at the idea, a pit forming in his stomach at the thought of somebody showing interest in you. he hasn’t even come to terms with his feelings for you yet, so why does this bother him so much? it’s all too confusing for him and all he wants to do is hide in a hole and disappear forever. but he can’t. because he cares about you too much.

he knows you’re not gonna wait around forever for him to accept his feelings, you deserve better than that. but he can’t let anybody else do it before he can.

after a boost of confidence, his feet move before his mind can catch up, and before he even realizes it, he’s walking towards the balcony. each step feels heavier than the last, his palms starting to sweat as he approaches the door.

you’re standing against the railing, the cool december air hitting your face as you admire the christmas lights that are across campus. the way you stand, so quiet and alone, makes all the confidence jisung built up almost completely disappear. you looked so pretty, the lights shining against your face lit up all your features he liked so much, it almost made him forget how to speak.

“hey” he speaks up, his voice thick with uncertainty.

you turn around, immediately recognizing his voice behind you. your eyes widen when you see him, you never thought he’d be the first to reach out after so long. you stand and stare at him for a bit too long before replying. “hi..”

you raise an eyebrow in confusion, and he finally finds his words. “i just wanted to talk to you. to apologize, i should say. i’ve been kind of avoiding you, and i didn’t mean to make things weird.”

a small pause, and your gaze softens. “its okay, jisung. i didn’t really know what was going on either.”

he feels a small pang of guilt when he realizes the weight of his actions. he left you completely in the dark, and he can’t imagine the way you had been feeling the past few days. if he had been all over the place, he had no idea what it could’ve been like for you.

you meet his eyes, and for a second, neither of you say anything. there’s a strange tension in the air, like an invisible force pulling you two closer, but neither of you act on it, you’re just standing in front of each other awkwardly.

“yeah,” he murmurs, his voice quieter now. “i didn’t mean to ignore you. i guess i’ve been overthinking it.”

you smile at him softly, though it’s a little unsure, like you’re trying to figure it out together. “leehan says we have that in common.”

the comment catches him off guard, and for a moment, he just stares at you before letting out a small laugh. it felt awkward at first, but when you laugh too, the pressure subsides.

his eyes flicker away from you, looking upwards when he notices it. a small piece of mistletoe conveniently hung above you two. he freezes for a second, his breath catching in his throat.

you notice his pause and follow his gaze, looking up at whatever caught his attention “what is it?”

he hesitates, his lips twitching likes he’s fighting a smile. “..there’s mistletoe.” he says, pointing upwards with his finger.

you glance up, spotting the small plant above you two. your cheeks warm despite the chill, and when your eyes meet his again, there’s a flicker of something unspoken between you two.

he scratches the back of his neck, his confidence wavering for a moment. he takes a breath and steps closer to you. “maybe..” his voice lowers, quieter now, “maybe this will prove it.”

your breath hitches as his hand comes up to your shoulder, his warm hands sending sparks through your body.

“i-“ you start to say something, but the words get caught in your throat when he leans in.

the kiss is slow at first, his lips were soft and tentative, like he was trying to figure you out. its awkward, you shift slightly, making your noses bump, but when you pull back in a nervous giggle, he doesn’t seem bothered.

“sorry..” he mumbles, his face flushed. “that wasn’t..”

you shake your head quickly, a smile breaking through your nerves. “its okay, it wasn’t bad”

he tilts his head, his hands cupping your flushed cheeks. he softly rubs the skin under this thumb, smiling at you before speaking. “can i try that again?”

you nod and he leans in again with more confidence this time. the kiss is deeper, and more certain than the last. he knew you wanted, needed this as much as he did, and this was the only way to show it. his hands stay cradling your face, your hands wrapping around his torso gently and gripping the material of his sweater as a way of grounding yourself.

jisung’s thoughts are a blur, and yours are no better. but one thing is: neither of you want this moment to end. the way you respond to his kiss, leaning in like you trust him completely. the way he gently holds your face, like if he holds on any tighter you’ll break. everything about it feels right.

when he finally pulls back, his forehead rests against yours, and he closes his eye for a moment. “that was..” he trails off, letting out a breathless laugh. “better?”

you nod, your voice barely a whisper, “better.”

for a moment, you two stay there, admiring each other’s faces like you’re the only two people in the world. inside, the party continues like before, but you’re way too occupied to care about that right now.

© jsbluu | please do not copy, reupload, or translate my work.

[tagsecretsanta]

From @ajpendragon

From @ajpendragon to @cookidoughlilac

I had a lot of fun with this (and maybe made myself cry a little bit). I tried to focus on Jeff’s feelings about his first Christmas back with his boys, which was one of the prompts I received. Hopefully, it turned out okay!

Memory

He had forgotten just how comfortable this couch was in the last eight years. 

Jeff's boys were gathered around the tree, wrapping it in lights and ornaments in a show of teamwork that he could have only dreamed about the last time he had been here. Virgil sat at the piano, Christmas carols filling the room, his skills far better than Jeff remembered. Scott and John were working on the top of the tree, using their superior height to decorate without needing to find a ladder. Gordon and Alan were darting between their legs, hanging the most hideous ornaments they could find with peals of laughter. 

Jeff thought about getting up to help them, but no sooner did the idea cross his mind than his mother's arm tightened around his shoulders. "Don't even think about getting up." She ordered softly, passing him the chipped mug from the table next to her. The ‘World’s bestest dad’ in childish handwriting gleamed in the light. "Let them enjoy this. You enjoy this."

He took a long sip of his hot chocolate, enjoying the rich flavor as he swallowed. He had forgotten what chocolate tasted like. "I am enjoying this." He protested, unable to stop himself from savoring another sip before continuing. "I just want to help. I spent so long dreaming of this, and now that I'm back, I can't even join in."

"I know." She soothed. "But you need to rest. You're not up for it yet. Soon, but not yet. If you tried to help, they would just be worried about you. Just watch-"

The blaring of the emergency alarm interrupted her, all of the boys jumping together to listen as EOS quickly ran them through the situation. They quickly disappeared through their pictures, his mother retreating back to the office to coordinate, leaving him alone in the living room, staring at the half-finished tree.

***********************

It didn't take long after the boys left for him to get bored.  At least in space, there was always something that needed to be done: food to collect, repairs to make, watching for his boys on the ever-decreasing chance that they would come for him. But here, his only job was to rest and recover, relearn how to live on earth after so long. Honestly, it was incredibly boring. Not that he wasn't thankful. Every day he got to spend with his boys, with his mother, in his home, was a blessing he had honestly been so close to giving up hope of ever having again. But he was bored.

Rest and recover, according to his mother and sons, meant doing absolutely nothing. He knew they were right. After so long in space, earth was an environment his body had forgotten how to function in. It was difficult to walk, he was more tired than he could ever remember being before, he ached under the pressure of a gravity he had nearly forgotten the feeling of. But he wanted to do something. He needed to be doing something. His brain wouldn't let him rest while his family was out there, risking their lives for a world that had forgotten how much it owed them.

So, with a quick glance around to make sure no one was watching, he grabbed his cane and pushed himself to his feet. Pausing a moment to let his heart adjust to his body being upright, he slowly made his way to his bedroom. Once there, he carefully lowered himself to the ground, knees cracking as he settled in a comfortable spot on the plush carpet and reached under the bed.

The box he pulled out was old and dusty, left there for so long that even the cleaning bots had forgotten about it. He settled the cardboard carefully on his lap, blowing the dust off the lid and removing it to set it to the side, hands trembling as he pulled out the first of the box's contents.

**************

Thirty minutes later, one of his feet asleep from the unusual position, he set the box to the side and used the bed to leverage himself up. Taking a few moments to rest on the edge of the bed (and to shake his foot awake), he grabbed the box in his free hand and headed back to the Christmas tree. 

It took some careful maneuvering, and a lot of breaks, but he managed to finish his project before his boys returned. He was resting on the couch again when they came into the room, hair damp from post-mission showers, and clearly tired, although still in good spirits.

It took them a moment to notice the change, but one by one they each stopped in the middle of the floor, staring open-mouthed at the ornaments he had hung. He could see a suspicious sheen of tears in some of the older boys eyes.

On the front of the tree, hanging carefully from the sturdiest branches he had been able to find, were some of his most precious possessions: the ornaments each of the boys had made with their mother on their first Christmas. He had always kept them somewhere safe, refusing to trust such irreplaceable memories to the safety hazard that was their storage closet.

"I had almost forgotten about those. I thought they were lost." Scott breathed softly, his eyes never leaving the precious ornaments. He came over to the couch, curling his long frame up on the cushion next to Jeff, gently resting his head on his father's shoulder. Slowly, the rest of his brothers joined him, each settling themselves into a place where they could touch their father, seeming to need that reassurance. 

Jeff didn't mind. After eight long years, the reminder that he was no longer alone was something he desperately needed too. Eight years of his boys lives, eight Christmases, eight years of memories he had missed. He had forgotten what it felt like to be surrounded by love like this.

Sitting there, surrounded by the people he loved most in the world, the boys who had kept him going for all those long eight years, he vowed not to miss anything else. He would be there for his boys, no matter what. He could not, would not allow himself to forget this feeling. It was up to him now to make up for all those years, building new memories to move forward on. 

He was already forgetting the pain and struggle, the loneliness, of the last eight years. He could feel it slipping away, wrapped in the warmth of his family's embrace.

Memory was funny like that.

[rescuefield-arch1]

just a girl ( me ) and a bunch of sad threads about a girl ( claire ) and the crumbling relationship with her brother 😩

[honey-tongued-devil]

[Arcane preference]reacting to their s/o calling them husband/wife for the first time

I’ve finished the first chapter of the long fic about Universe 7 (Anytime it rains). As soon as my second beta reader gives me the okay, I’ll post it. While I wait, I’ve written the first headcanon (out of three I’m definitely planning to write and post in the next few days) and picked up the drawing of Steb I’d left unfinished. I’m slow, as usual, but English isn’t my first language, and I’m juggling a lot of things at once. Enjoy!

socials: | INPRNT | | Tip Jar | | X | | BlueSky | | Ao3 | poster: | Jayce poster | | Silco poster | |Silco +self insert poster 1| | Steb poster | if you want to read the fluff longfic with vander and his happy family + Silco x reader you can find it here! ↠ Masterlist

Jayce:

-This man is planning to put a ring on your finger as soon as possible, okay? -Between the academy, public appearances, and both theoretical and practical studies, there isn’t a single moment when he’s really in the right mindset to bring up the topic -The worst part is that, deep down, he’s terrified of putting pressure on you -That’s why, the first time he hears you refer to him as “my husband” during a gala with noble families, he almost chokes -He has to gather all his strength not to grab the interlocutor by the shoulders and ask if they also heard you say that word -He’ll try to keep his composure, maybe responding to your remark with, “Yes, exactly. Her husband really did say/do/design that.”

Viktor:

-It’s not a thought he’s ever really entertained; it never crossed his mind -Part of it is that science is his priority, and part of it is that marriage doesn’t seem like something meant for people like him, -The first time you call him “your husband”, that thought suddenly becomes real in his head, and he can’t help but lean against a wall and wait for the other person to leave -“So, I’m your husband now, huh? Mmm… I don’t mind, a bit pretentious, though…” he jokes, making you roll your eyes -Now, more than ever, he has no idea what to do. He’ll give you a bronze ring from a machine he’s building -“Until I can get one worthy of you.”

Ekko:

-Yes -That’s it -The end -Okay, seriously. The idea of being certain that something will last forever is probably his greatest wish -The first time you call him your husband, he doesn’t see it coming -“Wait, you’re married?” -“I was talking about you, Ekko.” -The moment you say it, he points to his chest, you see his lip tremble slightly, and his eyes grow shinier -He won’t stop talking about it for a week, and at least once a day, he’ll ask if you still want to marry him, if you’re sure, if you love him -No rings before S2; the promise is made by drawing something for each other on your masks and clothes -After S2, he still can’t afford a ring, but now that life is more stable, he can start thinking about a more traditional gift, like a piece of jewelry

Vander:

-This man is ravenous for any family role you might offer him—fiancé, father, husband. Anything goes -The first time you call him “husband”, he plays it cool but will seize the first opportunity to return the favor by telling a customer you’re married -As soon as he can, he’ll squeeze your hand, even under the counter -The idea of being married and having a complete family is everything he’s ever wanted -He won’t stop calling you “my beautiful wife/husband” from that moment on.

-You said it first; you can’t take it back. Now you have to get married

Silco (old man):

-This man’s only sin is loving too much, but I’ll save that reflection for another post -Having no ties other than his illegitimate daughter doesn’t make him someone who’s particularly keen on formalities -The first time you call him “your husband” is in front of Sevika, and he slowly turns to look at you, while she slowly turns to look at him -“Did I... miss something?” Sevika asks, but he doesn’t reply, still perplexed, before glancing at her and saying, “I don’t know what you’re talking about.” -He’s relieved but doesn’t show it. He can’t afford to just yet -As soon as he confirms you were serious, your name will be flamboyantly forgotten—he’ll constantly refer to you as “my wife/husband”

Silco (young):

-The man who survives on love -The first time you call him your husband is in front of Vander, and while Vander bursts out laughing, Silco chokes on his drink -“Are you serious?” He’s so happy that his pale iris are completely swallowed by his dilated pupils -He grabs a pen and draws a ring around your finger -To his credit, he works in a mine, so it’s hard to do better than that, but it becomes the goal that keeps him going -Completely focused on family, the future, and anything that sees the two of you together and happy

Steb:

-The first time you call him your husband is at a dinner among enforcer families, and being mute doesn’t stop him from stealing the spotlight -He whips around, blinking slowly with only his third eyelid in a gesture of confusion -When he’s 100% sure he understood what you said, his eyes widen, the small membranes under his eyes flutter madly, and even the barely visible gills near his jaw gasp for a moment -Someone says, “I didn’t know you were married,” and he immediately nods enthusiastically, not giving you time to take it back -Within 48 hours, he’ll have the ring ready

Jinx:

-The first time you call her “your wife”, she freezes -“What did you just call me?” -She’s used to being a little sister, a big sister, a daughter—she’d never thought she could be a wife. Family ties aren’t chosen, but the idea that someone would want her in their life so much they’d marry her feels incredible -“You want to marry me? Really? Why?” -She bursts into tears, and it’ll take at least 24 hours of cuddling in bed to calm her down -After that, she’ll run to her father to announce that she’s now a married woman

Vi:

-She might not be Silco and/or Vander’s blood daughter, but she’s inherited their deep desire for family -From her family’s tragic fate to Vander’s, she’s always seen family as the ultimate aspiration -When you call her “your wife” for the first time, she doesn’t notice right away, but a full minute later, she whirls around to look at you, as if to ask for confirmation -“Say it again.” -“...You need to buy bread?” -“No, all of it.” -“My wife needs to go buy bread.” -“Again.”

-"My... wife?"

-"Again"

Caitlyn:

-Has she thought about it? Yes -Was she planning to act on it? Not exactly -Caitlyn struggles with emotions and feelings, which is why she hesitates and takes her time -But when you first call her “your wife”, her brain completely shuts off—she just stares at you, unable to hear a single word being said -If you or someone else asks her a question, she’ll snap out of it and respond, -“My wife/husband said everything.” Even if it makes no sense as an answer, making you laugh and leaving the other person baffled

Mel:

-Not a single flicker of surprise—the first time you call her “your wife”, she remains completely composed -“So, I’m your wife?” she asks as soon as you’re in private, approaching you like a feline. You can almost hear the purr in her voice -She’s amused but also intrigued by whatever game you’re playing -The idea of marriage is complicated for her—on one hand, it feels like it would limit her freedom to act, while on the other, unresolved family issues seem to devour her at the mere thought of starting a new cycle -She’ll tell you to go ahead, to get married, but she’ll also ask for time -In the meantime, though, she’ll start using the term “husband/wife” with you—she likes the way it rolls off her tongue

Sevika:

-Between the work she does, the environment she lives in, and all the interesting circumstances of her life, marriage has never been on her radar -Not to mention that in Zaun, it’s not exactly a common practice—people just move in together and build families when they can, without much fuss over formalities or bureaucracy -The first time it happens, she’s playing cards with the other goons, and you casually ask if “your wife is winning” -Her first reaction isn’t even hers—it’s the others’. Dustin, the blond goon with the lazy eye, almost starts crying, embarrassing her -Don’t worry, she’ll make you pay for it at home -She won’t ask to formalize anything, but in true Zaunite fashion, she’ll consider you married, plain and simple

[sargeant-bxrnes]

you’re how i pray.

summary: reluctantly, you found yourself reaching out to the church for guidance, to better your “wrongs.” only to meet father charlie and realize there was a whole world of sins you’ve yet to indulge in. [REQUESTED.]

pairings: charlie mayhew x fem!reader

warnings: conversations about religion and moral, blasphemy (?), charlie is a manipulative freak!. SMUT: this is DIRTYYYY, fingering (fem), oral (fem), unprotected sex, manhandling, dirty talk.

WC: 3.6K (sorry, i got into it)

my masterlist!                     requests are OPEN!

Your steps echoed against the cold stone floors of the church. The towering figure of your aunt walked ahead, moving with self-righteous purpose. You rolled your eyes, biting the inside of your cheek to stifle the irritation that boiled beneath your skin.

Of course, therapy had been a good start. You had actually been making progress, learning to manage your anger, to quiet the voice inside you that urged you to rebel against every rule, every boundary. But your family… they believed therapy wasn’t enough. They had another solution.

Father Charlie. You had heard of him. A young priest, charismatic and well-liked by the community.

Your aunt wasted no time, walking straight up to the office where Father Charlie stood. His presence was larger than life, draped in his priestly robes, and yet his eyes—those piercing brown eyes—held a spark that didn’t quite match the image of a humble servant of God.

“Father Charlie, thank you for meeting with us,” your aunt began, already launching into a tirade about you. Words like rebellious, problematic, and sinful spilled out as though they had been rehearsed. You stood there, arms crossed, glaring at the rows of candles flickering on the altar.

Father Charlie nodded sympathetically but his gaze never left you. He didn’t interrupt your aunt’s sermon, though, and once the woman was satisfied that she had delivered enough holy condemnation, she patted you on the shoulder.

“Father Charlie will talk to you, sweetie. He’ll help you.”

With that, your aunt left, leaving behind a cloud of forced piety. The silence settled in as Father Charlie waited until the doors shut behind her.

“Guessing by your expression, I’m sure this wasn’t your first option, coming to me.” he said, his voice unexpectedly soft.

You shrugged, leaning back against one of the wooden furnitures of his office. “Yeah. My family has unfortunately convinced themselves that I’m a lost cause, and that only God can save me. Or so.”

Father Charlie smiled, and something about it made you feel more cautious than comforted. “Why do you think people see you that way?”

The question took you by surprise. Not the usual condescending lecture, not yet, anyway. “Because I don’t see the point in all these rules they’re obsessed with. I do whatever I want, and that annoys people. We’re born into this world, and instead of living the lives we want, we’re told what to do from the moment we can speak. Doesn’t that sound a little… cruel to you?”

“Rules are there to keep the community together. Without them, society would fall apart.”

You narrowed your eyes. “Maybe. But what’s the point if those rules only help some people? The rich keep getting richer, while the rest of us… we’re always at the bottom. And that’s okay as long as we obey, right?”

“So, you think life is about doing whatever you want? No restrictions at all?”

“Not exactly,” you said. “I just think people should be free to make their own choices. To live without constant guilt and fear hanging over them. This whole idea that we’re supposed to follow blindly or be damned… it doesn’t sit right with me.”

The priest studied you for a moment, and you could feel the intensity of his gaze. “Do you believe in God?”

Your lips pressed together in a thin line. “I don’t know. Maybe there’s something out there, something bigger than us. But the people in this community? The hypocrisy. The way they use their faith to control others. It’s toxic.”

Father Charlie nodded slowly. “You’re not the first to feel that way. But you’re not as alone as you think, either.”

“What do you mean?”

His smile was back, but this time, it held something else. Something darker. “Let’s just say… not everyone in this church follows the rules as strictly as you might think.”

A shiver crept down your spine, but you couldn’t tell if it was fear or something else. His words, his tone—they didn’t match the image of the holy man you had been expecting. You sat down on the couch, to keep some distance.

“Let’s talk more,” he said, his voice dropping an octave. “I’m curious about your thoughts on freedom. On life… on sin.”

Your pulse quickened as he took a seat next to you, far too close for comfort, but you didn’t move. There was something magnetic about him. Dangerous, but magnetic.

“You know,” Charlie began, his fingers lightly tracing the soft edge of the couch beneath both, “a lot of people in your position feel trapped by expectations. You said it yourself: you don’t like the way rules seem to be designed to keep some people down.”

You nodded slowly, unsure where this was leading, but already feeling a shift in the atmosphere.

He tilted his head, his gaze holding yours, and there was a glimmer of amusement—something almost wicked—in his eyes. “You’re not wrong to want freedom. To want more. But what you have to understand is that most people… they’re too afraid to admit it.”

“Too afraid?”

“Yes. They bury their desires under obedience, hoping it will make them feel whole. But deep down, they crave… more. They want to push against those boundaries.” He leaned in closer, his tone growing silkier. “Don’t you?”

“I don’t know,” you said, though you did know. It just didn’t feel safe to admit it—not to yourself, and definitely not to him. “I mean, I get frustrated, but… it’s not like I’m going to rebel against everything.”

“What if you did? What if, just for a moment, you allowed yourself to explore that side of you? The one that questions. The one that craves freedom… and maybe, other things?” Charlie’s eyes sparkled with something that felt far more dangerous than faith.

Other things. The way he said it, as if it were an invitation, hung heavily between both. You could feel the tension building, the heat.

“I think…” you started, your voice shaky, “I think people would lose their minds if I did something like that.”

His lips curled into a slow, knowing grin. “Maybe that’s exactly what they need.”

He let the words sink in before continuing, his voice dipping into something darker, more seductive. “You don’t need to live your life based on what others expect of you. There’s power in choosing for yourself.“

This conversation wasn’t going the way you’d imagined. You had expected judgment, correction—but instead, he was… encouraging you.

“What do you want?” he asked, his voice almost a whisper now.

You looked away, feeling a flush creep up your neck. “I don’t know.”

“You’re lying,” Charlie said softly, his voice dipping even lower. “I think you know exactly what you want. You just haven’t allowed yourself to feel it fully.”

Your heart pounded against your ribs, and you couldn’t ignore the way his words wrapped around you like a dark temptation. There was a part of you that did want something—something wild, something free, something dangerous. But this? Here? With him?

“It’s okay to admit it,” Charlie said, leaning closer, his lips dangerously close to your ear now. “Sometimes… surrendering to what you really desire is more powerful than fighting it.”

Your breath caught, and for a second, you leaned into him, drawn by the magnetism of his words. It was intoxicating—the way he seemed to know exactly what to say. But you pulled back, confusion warring with the strange attraction that was blooming inside you.

“You’re a priest,” you said, as though reminding him—and yourself—would somehow break the spell.

Charlie chuckled, the sound low and smooth. “I am. But that doesn’t mean I don’t understand temptation. Sin is… fascinating, isn’t it? Especially the kind that makes you question everything you thought you knew about yourself.”

There was something so wrong about this conversation, and yet, you couldn’t deny the pull. The way he was making you feel—seen, understood, even desired—was something you hadn’t expected to find in this place.

He held your gaze, his confidence palpable. “You crave connection. An escape from the chains of expectation. You want to live life on your terms, even if that means stepping outside the lines drawn by those who think they know better. I admire that.”

“You really don’t know what you’re getting into,” you said, trying to regain some control.

“Perhaps,” he said, the corner of his mouth quirking up in that infuriatingly charming way. “But what if I’m willing to take that risk? To explore those uncharted waters with you?”

“Is that what you do with all the girls who come in here, Father?” you shot back, trying to mask the way your pulse quickened at the thought.

“Most don’t provoke me the way you do,” he said, his voice low and velvety. “They’re afraid to stray too far from the righteous path. But you… you have a light about you that beckons me closer. It’s intoxicating.”

Your cheeks warmed under his intense scrutiny, but you quickly shook your head, refusing to be swayed. “You shouldn’t say things like that. You’re a priest.”

“Ah, but that’s the thing, isn’t it?” he replied smoothly, his gaze unflinching. “What does that really mean? I wear the collar, sure, but I’m also a man—one who understands the darker desires that lie beneath the surface. You’re drawn to them, aren’t you?”

“Maybe I’m just curious,” you replied, attempting to sound nonchalant.

“Curiosity is a dangerous game,” he said, his voice a seductive whisper. “Especially when it leads you to someone like me. You could explore all the answers to your questions, and perhaps even find the absolution you didn’t know you were seeking—if you dare to take that step.”

“And what’s the price for that?” you challenged, not ready to give in but undeniably intrigued.

“Just your trust,” he said, his gaze piercing through your defenses. “Let me guide you. Allow me to show you that the rules can bend, that the lines can blur. And in return, you’ll discover a side of yourself you never knew existed. It’s a fair exchange, don’t you think?”

“Maybe,” you finally replied, your voice barely above a whisper, “but I’m not so easily led.”

He leaned in closer, their faces mere inches apart. “I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

He ran his thumb delicately along your lower lip. “Lose yourself in me. Let me be your forbidden pleasure, your dark indulgence. Together, we can create a sin so divine, it will set your soul free.”

You feel his thumb diving inside your mouth. He pressed his thumb deeper, exploring the warm, wet cavern of your mouth as if mapping your innermost terrain.

“Mmmm, so eager to please," he purred, his other hand sliding down your side to grip your hip, holding you steady. "Your mouth was made for sin." With a subtle twist, he coaxed your tongue to swirl around the intrusion, a sinful game of give-and-take that left you breathless and wanting more. "Such a willing little temptress,"

And before you can process, he’s kissing you. And things gets heated, fast. It doesn’t seem to matter that you both were sitting on the couch from his office, inside the church. He claimed your mouth in a bruising kiss, his tongue plunging in to dance with yours in a primal, urgent rhythm. The scent of your arousal mingled with the musky undertones of his cologne, fogging the air with a heady, addictive haze. His hands roamed your body, possessive and demanding, as he pulled you closer, his own arousal throbbing against the confines of his trousers.

“So sweet," he growled against your lips, breaking the kiss only to nip and suck his way down your neck, leaving a trail of heated, open-mouthed kisses. "Such a delicious little sin."

His fingers deftly unfastened the buttons of your blouse, revealing the lacy bra beneath and the creamy swells of your breasts. You gasped, feeling his lips on your skin. Desperate and wanton, hungry.

He kissed and licked a path downward, pausing to toy with the lacy edge of your bra before tugging the delicate fabric aside with his teeth. His hot mouth closed over the swell of your breast, his tongue swirling to coax forth a responsive moan. His lips slid lower, fixating on your nipple. He suckled, the rhythmic pull of his lips and the scrape of his teeth sending jolts of pleasure-pain shooting through your sensitive flesh.

“Mmmm, you taste so divine," he purred, his free hand sliding up your thigh to brush against the damp fabric of your panties. "Every inch of you is made for sin."

You could foresee his intentions even before he started to move. His lips went lower down your chest, over your stomach, to the waistband of your skirt. With practiced ease, he slid his hands down your curves, peeling away the last of your garments with a hunger that bordered on reverence.

Your skirt and panties joined the discarded heap of your blouse and bra on the floor, leaving you bare and vulnerable beneath his intense scrutiny. His eyes raked over you, drinking in every inch of exposed flesh as if committing it to memory. The sight of you, spread out before him, was a feast for his sinful appetites.

“Exquisite," he breathed, his voice thick with desire. "You're a vision of decadence. I'm going to indulge in every moment of our encounter, savoring every morsel of pleasure you offer me."

With that, he sank to his knees before you, his fingers brushing against your inner thighs as he gazed up at you with a wicked promise in his eyes. He leaned in, his breath a hot whisper against your most intimate flesh.

And he went at it, eager to devour. He started off with a long, languid lick with the flat of his tongue, licking from the edge of your slit all the way to the clit. It was utterly sinful, erotic.

He lapped at you, his long, dexterous tongue swirling and delving with a sinful expertise that made you gasp and squirm. The flat of his tongue glided along your slit, gathering your sweet essence before he darted the tip to tease the sensitive bump of your clit. He licked and suckled, alternating between long, languid strokes and fast, frantic jabs of his tongue, each one designed to drive you a little crazier with need.

“You taste so good,," he purred, his words muffled against your pulsing flesh. "I could eat this sweet cunt all day and never tire of it."

Two fingers slipped inside you, stretching and filling you as his tongue continued its relentless assault. He pumped them in and out, matching the rhythm of his tongue's movements as he brought you closer to the edge. His fingers curled, seeking that special spot that would send you plummeting into ecstasy. With each pass, his touch grew firmer, more insistent, as if trying to coax the very essence of your being from your depths. His lips and tongue never ceased their worship of your clit, suckling and flicking against the throbbing nub in a maddening dance of pleasure and desperation.

He could feel you teetering on the brink, your sweet cum flooding his fingers as your hips bucked and writhed in mindless need. His tongue worked frantically against your clit, a dizzying whirl of licks and suckles that left you breathless and begging for more. One last, long lick, and you were sent hurtling over the edge, your orgasm ripping through like a thunderclap.

“Yes," he hummed, his voice a reverent whisper. "Let it happen. Let me feel you cum for me." And as the waves of your climax crashed over you, he remained, drinking in every last drop of your release like a man dying of thirst.

And you thought that would be it, but no. He rearranged you, laying you down as he stripped off his cassock in a hurried tug. The garment joined the pile of your clothes, and he wasted no time unfastening his belt and shucking off his trousers. His massive cock sprang free, the thick, pulsing length already flushed and throbbing with need.

He loomed over you, his thick, throbbing cock jutting out before him like a red-hot brand, burning with the need for release. With a knee, he pushed your legs apart, spreading you in blatant invitation, before positioning himself between your thighs. One hand tipped your chin up, forcing you to meet his burning gaze as he lined himself up with your most intimate entrance.

“Last chance to turn back," he growled, the tip of his cock notched against your aching flesh. "Once I sink into you, there's no going back. You'll be mine, body and soul." He paused, his expression almost wistful. "But I know you won't refuse me. You want this, as much as I do."

With that, he surged forward, burying himself in your warmth with a groan of pure, unadulterated pleasure.

He filled you slowly, deliberately, each inch a decadent slide into heaven as he stretched you impossibly wide around his girth. The sensation was overwhelming, the burn of his intrusion mixing with the sweet, tingling pleasure that only he could evoke. When he finally bottomed out, he paused, savoring the feeling of being completely sheathed within you. He was huge, and you could feel every throbbing inch of him as he pulsed and twitched inside you.

“So perfect," he breathed, his voice low and husky with satisfaction. He took a deep breath, his forehead coming to rest against yours as he fought to regain his composure. "You were made for me. Every curve, every hollow, every inch of your sweet cunt is tailor-made to take my cock."

He began to move, slow and deep at first, withdrawing until only the thick head remained before plunging back in, his strokes growing firmer, more insistent as he lost himself in the mindless pleasure of the joining. — He took you like a man possessed, his pace growing faster, more erratic as he chased his release. The couch creaked in protest beneath both, the sound mingling with the ragged breathing and the obscene squelch of his cock sliding in and out of your soaked pussy. Your back arched, pushing your pert breasts toward his devouring mouth as he feasted on one while still pounding into you. He growled against your skin, the vibrations adding another layer of sensation to the maelstrom of pleasure wracking your body.

Your eyes rolled back, feeling him pounding deep into your cunt as he suckled your tit. Wary, you used a hand to cover your mouth, trying to muffle the sound.

His mouth left your breast with a wet pop, and he sealed his lips over yours in a fierce, dominating kiss. His tongue invaded, claiming yours in a sensual dance that left both breathless. All the while, he continued his relentless pace, his cock pistoning in and out of you with brutal efficiency. He could feel your walls fluttering around him, your sweet cream coating his shaft as you teetered on the brink of another orgasm. With a groan, he broke the kiss, his eyes blazing with a primal intensity as he prepared to unleash his own release.

“Cum for me," he commanded, his voice a raw, desperate snarl. "Take my cock, just like that. Fuck- come for me. Come on my cock.”

The mix of the sensations and the sheer desperation on his voice, how needy it suddenly sounded did it for you. As your orgasm crashed over you like a tidal wave, your inner walls clamped down around him like a vice, cum gushing out to coat his cock and balls. The sensation was enough to tip him over the edge, and with a hoarse bellow, he buried himself to the hilt and came, his thick seed pulsing deep inside you as his body shuddered and spasmed.

“Fuck!" he gasped, his hands gripping your hips like an anchor as he rode out the waves of his climax. "Yes... oh, god... yes..." He collapsed on top of you, his weight pressing you into the couch as he struggled to catch his breath.

As you recovered, you started to process. Thinking to yourself. Did you- did you just fuck a priest? Maybe you ARE as troublesome as people claim.

He slowly pulled out of you, his softening cock slipping free with a wet plop. He leaned down, capturing your lips in a tender, lingering kiss, his eyes never leaving yours. "Don't overthink it, my sweet," he murmured against your mouth. "Just enjoy the afterglow."

He leaned on his elbow, his free hand gently brushing the hair from your face as he took in your flushed, sated features.

"We've both crossed lines. Lines we can't simply erase. But perhaps that's for the best. Perhaps this is the key to setting you free." A sly smile played on his lips as he stood, his naked form glistening with sweat in the dim light. "Now, how about we continue this little sin of ours in the bed, hmm?"

And as that idea enticed you… you realized that perhaps you ARE a lost cause.

[lilacgaby]

˗ˏˋ🖍️crayons and connections

pairing: prohero!katsuki x nanny!reader

summary: after a harsh relationship he really didn't want another try at romance for a while. at least, not until he hired you. he thought he loved the way you cared for his kids, but you both knew it was something more.

tags: fem!reader, domestic au, use of pet names, no proofread, fluff, cursing, taking care of kids, a millisecond of angst i swear trust me, comfort

(a/n: i couldn't get this au out of my headdd)

wc: ~3k

katsuki was honestly sick of his wife.

she would nag him constantly, asking for his cards and attention without ever asking about him or how he was doing. everything was an argument now, most of their nights would eventually end up with him on the couch.

the only lights of his life were his newborn son and one year old daughter. he had adopted the 'staying for the kids' mindset, but her skipping out on their shared daughter's first birthday was his breaking point.

who knew 'i want a divorce' would be the happiest words he'd ever uttered such far? watching her cry and swear she'd be better feeding the hole of despair that had opened over their three year relationship, that had only really blossomed because she got pregnant.

he had made her sign a prenup, thankfully, so he got to keep the house. with a payment and some paperwork he was left with full custody of his kids in his house, to sleep in his bed for the first time in ages.

well, only because he hired you.

it was only natural that he needed a nanny, i mean he was gone for most of the day patrols. after taking some in for interviews, he eventually landed on you after some hours of questioning.

he was exhausted, some of these hags were terrifying, both in their practices and appearances. he relaxed a bit at the sight of you. you were really pretty.

"hi mr-- um bakugo was it?"

you and no idea who he was? it kind of hurt but would end up working out in his favor.

"yeah, just katsuki's fine."

"oh, okay! i'm [name], uh-- i have a couple years experience for babysitting and i worked as a nanny for some other families too--"

as you rambled about your past experience and why you were good for the job, katsuki's mind went elsewhere. you looked breathtaking just speaking there, he swore your hair was flowing in the wind and that the sun shone brighter around you.

not to mention you were really sweet, he had saw you making small talk to the hags earlier, which meant you really were a saint.

"so uh-- yeah that's all about me... uh, hello?"

"oh! yes? that was all really impressive [name]. so, would you be available from eight in the morning to about ten at night? those are my current patrol hours, and obviously you'd be compensated for this trial."

"yes, that's perfect for me! when can i start?"

"uh.. tomorrow?"

"okay!" you stuck out your hand, a small smile on your lips. "nice to meet you katsuki."

he shook your hand firmly and you bowed before leaving.

the next day you arrived earlier than anticipated, he was suited up in his heroes outfit, relishing in the moments where his kids were still asleep.

he heard a knock at the door and opened it. it was you, a tiny purse behind you. "hi katsuki! woah wait a minute.. are you like a hero?"

he shrugged his arms. "yeah, you know only like top three, nothing big."

he saw your eyes widen. "oh wow! sorry for not recognizing you, i don't really keep up with all that stuff-- but im sure you're really strong!"

he nodded, "hell yeah i am. anyways, come in."

you were greeted by a large family home. you were sure your apartment was the size of the kitchen alone. huge halls and grand staircases filled the space, lavish chandeliers all shaped as explosions hung from the ceiling. not to mention the crazy amount of trophies displayed.

the rocking chairs and baby blankets scattered about were seriously out of place, making you giggle a bit.

when he looked back at you, you immediately slapped your hand over your face. "something funny?"

"no, no it's just-- your house is so nice!"

"thank you? anyways, i'll take you up to their rooms now."

you followed behind him, even his kids had huge rooms. you were super kind of jealous.

he opened the door and waved you over to see a small, adorable baby boy sleeping in a cot. "this is kei, he's only eight months." he whispered. "he fusses a lot, but he loves music."

he closed the door slowly behind, and walked to the room straight across. a tiny toddler laid in a princess bed, the room drowning in all things pink. "this is kioko, she's a handful. she turned two a bit ago." he whispered, closing the door behind him to give you a basic rundown of the schedule.

"so, they normally wake up around eight. there's a lot of formula for kei in the kitchen, and kioko just likes cereal. kioko can and will play all day, but kei gets real sleepy."

you nodded along making mental notes of everything.

"they eat lunch around three, but a snack before then is fine. dinner is at seven and they go to sleep at eight."

"okay, i think i got it."

he nodded. "i think you do too. there's extra keys in the counter by the door. call my assistants if there are any emergencies, i wrote the number on the fridge."

you nodded again, "kay, i got it. you get going though, it's already eight twenty!"

"fuck. okay, i'll see you later."

"bye katsuki."

the door closed behind him and you were alone. you decided to start prepping a bottle. just as you finished, you heard the wails of a baby ring throughout the halls.

you walked up to the cot, speaking softly. "hi kei, i'm [name]." as you picked him up, he gurgled in confusion. "i'll be taking care of you from now on, let's go eat."

you kept him in your arms. he was looking up at you curiously, making you smile as he touched your face. as you walked to his sister's room, where sure enough she was awake too.

"hi kioko, im [name]. i'll be taking care of you, okay?" you said, reaching out a hand for her to shake it.

she grasped your hand. "okay. go eat?"

"yes, let's go eat. follow me, okay?" she followed after you sleepily, her blanket and stuffed animal in her arms as you led her to the kitchen.

you placed her brother in a high chair first, giving him his formula. "can i pick you up?" you asked her.

"up-up!" she said, raising her arms up in the air. you carried and placed her into one too. "so, what do you wanna eat?"

"cookie!" she pointed to an expensive cereal brand you'd never even seen before. "oh, okay."

you placed a bit in a tiny bowl, adding some milk. they ate relatively peacefully, were they really as crazy as katsuki said?

yes, yes they were. kioko was a ball of energy, walking any and everywhere. she wanted to play every single game known to mankind. it didn't help that hide and seek was hard in such a huge house.

kei clung to you. as you searched for her he never wanted to leave your side, he'd start sniffling when you even left his sight.

lunch and dinner were a blur, you made the food katsuki had told you to on the sticky notes he'd left around. you had a bit too, and man did these kids eat good.

kioko finally crashed, tugging on the back of your pants. "sleepy time." you were washing dishes, so you wiped your hand clean to ruffle her hair. "okay, go wait for me in your room."

you finished up, picked up kei from where he was sat by his activity cube, and walked over to kioko's room.

you read her a book, 'the giving tree.' she fell asleep halfway through, utterly tuckered out from the day. kei fell asleep against your chest, you went and laid him down in his cot.

you looked around the house, seeing the mess. you sighed. "let's do this."

the house was sparkling once you were done, a pot of coffee on the stove as you waited for katsuki to get back. you seriously didn't know how you were going to go back your one-bed apartment now that you've seen how the rich live.

the door sounded, it was katsuki. "hi katsuki! how was uh-- patrol?"

he was covered in soot and dirt from head to toe. you internally sobbed at your hours of mopping going to waste. "oh uh, it was good. caught some guys and shit."

"ah, that's cool!"

he looked around. "did my brats cause you any trouble?" he eyed how clean everything was, from the dishes to the floor.

"they're full of energy, but so cute it makes up for it."

he wore a soft smile. "yeah, they really are."

"you know, they both look exactly like you. it's cute."

he flushed slightly, "yeah?"

"mhm, oh! i had leftovers from earlier? if you wanted some."

"yeah, i'll eat them." she smiled and started to grab her things. "so, does this mean i pass?"

he smiled too. "yes,

yes you did."

days melted into months of your routine with kei and kioko. some days katsuki would come home early, letting you play games all together. you'd cook with him sometimes too, laughing at how precise he was about it.

everything got a bit real the second kei spoke his first word to you.

"mama."

you and kioko got so excited, recording a clip to send it to katsuki immediately.

the entire day you were so happy, treating the kids to a secret extra snack, and letting them beat their favorite baby popcorn.

a knock on the door was heard, you were feeding kei so you walked over to the door with him in hand. you thought it was odd, why would katsuki knock?

except it wasn't him, it was some woman. "uh.. who are you?"

"oh, so he thinks he can replace me so quickly? newsflash, bitch, i'm his ex wife."

"can you not curse in front of the kids?"

"i'll do whatever the fuck i want. you know why? because i'm actually connected to those kids. you're just playing mother, he'll dump you eventually."

she slammed the door behind her. "star her mama?" kioko asked behind you.

"yeah, stranger."

you had gotten a bit weird after that, acting weird about affection and things surrounding it. you didn't know why, but she really did make you question your role in their lives.

you weren't a mother, you were a nanny.

katsuki finally got fed up with your new, odd attitude. he questioned you with a look in his eye.

"why you been acting so weird?" he asked, his mouth full with food.

"huh? i don't know what you mean?"

he pointed his chopsticks at you. "you've been acting all weird 'round 'em. you don't like that they call you mom or something?"

"no! it's just.. don't you think it's weird?"

"no. i'm happy that they like you so much."

"you don't think i'm trying to replace their mom?"

"they never really had one in the first place. she was never around, so if she said some shit to you know she wasn't half the person you are."

"oh.."

"so she did come."

"yeah. she did."

"[name]. you are ten times the person she ever was. you're perfect without trying. actually, you do try. and that's why..

that's why we all love you."

you both turned red, which made you laugh. "thank you katsuki."

you reached out and held his hand.

"seriously, thank you."

he put a restraining order on his ex the next day, also going to get flowers for you as it was his day off.

you'd started to sleep over after that, the affection between the two of you growing gradually.

he gifted you a room in the house, fully furnished with about ten thousand dollars left in one of the drawers so 'you could decorate for yourself.'

that room went mostly unused though, as most nights you'd end up cuddled with katsuki in his bed.

the fridge was filled to the brim with photos by kioko, who'd love to draw all four of you as one big family.

katsuki even asked her for a small one, one that he now keeps in the back of his phone case for good luck.

he asked you out officially with kioko's help, her unwanted help that is.

she snuck out after bedtime where he was speaking to you on the couch, you in his arms as he was mustering up his courage--

"pleaseeee have a play date with daddy, pleasee?" she said, using her puppy eyes.

"we all love you a lot, but he loves you this much!" she spread out her arms to make a point, making you laugh.

"okay! okay, i already said yes kioko. go to sleep, okay?"

"yay!" she ran up to her room and you heard the door close.

"so.. about our playdate?"

he took you out to a fancy dinner of your choice, telling you to order whatever you'd like. his mom was babysitting so you two could relax.

he'd learned a lot about you from his kids, your favorite color, the music you liked, the way you like your eggs, but it was different to hear it from you.

he thought you were so gorgeous and kind, so sweet to him and the lights of his life. who was he kidding? over the last year you'd become a pillar of his life.

he enjoyed going home knowing you were there with his kids, you were there to hear about his stresses and support him.

he was happy to support you, to let you stay in his house. to let him pay for things for you, to let him make you smile.

one 'playdate' turned into multiple, you went out every other week.

he knew he had to do something, a grand gesture to show you just how much he loved you, how he wanted to continue building this perfect family of his forever.

he knew how much you treasured the opinions of his kids, he loved that about you.

so, he got them in on it. kioko and kei each held a gift for you, one of your favorite flowers and the other of your favorite perfumes.

you were at a seriously gorgeous park, streams the only noise you could hear for miles. you saw your two favorite kids sitting on the picnic blanket.

"kioko, kei?"

"mommy!" they ran up to you, kei handing you the bouquet of roses, and kioko handing you a vial of perfume.

"aw, thank you you two. where's your dad?"

"hes waiting for you! come come!"

"come!"

they guide you to a secluded area, with a natural arch of overgrown vines, where katsuki is waiting for you.

"katsuki?"

"[name]."

"what's all of this for?"

"you." he took your hands into his, looking deeply into you.

"you're important to me. you've.. you've become the thing i was missing. the thing i searched for in other people.

and, you've become that to the people i care about the most too.

so,"

he got down on one knee infront of you.

"will you marry me?"

the word yes escaped you before you even realized it. you tackled him into a hug, which prompted kei and kioko to join in.

everything was just so sweet from then on.

kioko was the flower girl at your wedding, kei was the ring holder.

your first kiss shared under the altar was magical, the memory of it forever engrained in your memories, and in your lips.

your honeymoon was bittersweet, as you missed your two headaches. but you and katsuki also enjoyed the private time alone with eachother, embracing and finding comfort in eachother's presence.

when you got home though, your picturesque family was about to have a new addition,

you were pregnant.

whilst everyone was debating whether or not you'd have a boy or girl, to everyone's surprise once you and katsuki cut the slice of cake open..

it had both colors.

you we're having twins.

as you looked over at katsuki, a shocked expression on his face, all you could do was laugh.

laugh because you couldn't have ever imagined a life this perfect for you.

but it was a wax-drawn line of fate that led you to katsuki,

and you'd always be thankful for it.

tag: @kovu-bunnbunn

[knoxic]

Cycle of Greed

Azriel x Reader | p1 - p2 - p3 - p4 - p5 - p6

summary: Azriel suspects Elain is his mate, reader is ignored, Rhysand and Cass are protective of reader

wc: 2,3k

warnings: Azriel... self hatred, insecurities

a/n: reader's nickname is Ace but there's no physical descriptions

It started subtly, coming home and not noticing her boyfriend's absence, too tired to notice, waking up to a cold and empty bed, brushing past it thinking Az must have been busy, even though he never mentioned anything. The first time you noticed he wasn't, it hit you like a slap to the face.

A family dinner was scheduled tonight, even though you had dinner with your family all the time, tonight was the only night of the month no one was allowed to miss. Rhysand made sure all of you would be free.

You had woken up early today, before the sun had risen, Azriel not being in bed with you didn't seem weird at all, Az often left the bed before the sun was up, he had trouble sleeping and once he woke it was hard to go back to sleep. After spending some time reading in bed you decided to make breakfast, after washing up you went downstairs, expecting to see containers of food left in the sink but there was none, so either Azriel hadn't eaten when he got home or he didn't come home at all. But again, she brushed it off, he probably had a good reason for it.

After eating breakfast, you went to change into your training clothes, just because it was an off day didn't mean you should skip training. Normally, you used a punching bag to literally beat your stress away but today you weren't even stressed, there wasn't even someone to keep you entertained, so training ended up being just boring.

Again, you came back to an empty home, no signs of your boyfriend. After a few minutes of staring at the walls you decided that perhaps a few hours in Velaris would be exciting, maybe you would visit Feyre's gallery. Walking through the streets is definitely a nice thing, the people passing by know who you are and what you do but still gave you friendly smiles. Watching the children play freely and unbothered made you wonder if, someday, your own children would be doing the same, little Illyrians terrorizing the streets of Velaris.

"Hey! Wasn't expecting you here today." Feyre's voice snapped you out of your daydream.

"Well, I'd rather spend hours looking at your paintings than the blank walls at home." You laughed.

"If that's the case then come with me, I just finished a new one." She slipped her arm through yours and pulled you further into the gallery. Fortunately for your boredom, Feyre had kept you busy the whole day, showing you her new artworks and even making you paint with her.

Hours later you were finally coming home, your feet screamed at you to sit down but you refused to winnow, not wanting to miss out on any new place that might have opened. You were so tired that your mind wasn't anywhere near Azriel, fully focused on resting as soon as you reached home. You only realized you had fallen asleep when the front door banged closed, your boyfriend's scent filling your nose.

"Az?" You sat up rubbing your tense neck, the couch, as comfortable as it was, was not meant for sleeping.

"Yeah, didn't know you were here." He seemed confused and... angry?

"Are you okay?" You slowly made your way towards him but he stepped back, turning towards the stairs.

"Fine, I'll go wash up for dinner, don't follow me." And with that he ran up. You took his anger as the result of his work, figuring that something had probably stressed him out.

Your eyes that were still foggy from sleep had finally cleared, allowing you to notice how dark the living room was, it was already night and you had probably slept for a couple hours. When you went up to bathe, you heard a loud bang from your bedroom. Azriel often isolated himself as to not take his anger out on anyone close to him, so you continued walking towards the guest bedroom, washing up in the adjoined bathroom. Only when you were finished did you make your way to your bedroom, the door was fully closed so you opened it carefully, the bathroom door was left open so Azriel was probably downstairs. You dressed up unhurried, taking the time to choose your clothes, fixing your hair and choosing shoes. When you went down, Azriel was nowhere to be seen, you called out to him but received no response, perhaps Rhys had called him?

'Rhys, is Azriel with you?' You asked, praying he would hear you.

'Yes, he said he thought you wouldn't come." Rhys answered, his voice oddly quiet, without its usual confidence. 'Are you two okay?'

'I– Yes? Well, I think so? Did he say anything?' Not once had it crossed your mind that your relationship was the cause of Azriel's stress, were you stressing him? If so, why didn't he say anything?

'Never mind. Are you coming?' Suddenly you weren't sure if you should, maybe Az had gone alone because he didn't want you there. 'Please come...'

Rhys pleaded, scaring you even more. Rhysand never pleaded.

'I don't know,' you were still standing in the middle of the living room, you could just winnow, but would your boyfriend want that? 'Maybe I should stay home tonight–'

'No. It's family dinner, fuck Azriel's dramatic ass, I don't know what's wrong with him but it's not your fault. You're coming, even if I have to go pick you up myself.'

𓂃

"My office, now." Rhysand's growl seemed to vibrate through his bones.

"Rhys–"

"No! Azriel." He walked out of the room, leaving Azriel to stare at his back, Elain kept gazing at him wide eyed. 'Come with me or I'll come to your girl, your choice.' His mind talons not bothering to make a gentle appearance.

Azriel left without looking back, still feeling Elain's gentle gaze following him. His heartbeat ringed in his ear, time seemed to pass by slowly as he walked the corridors to Rhys' office, darkness consuming the corners of every wall. The doors were left open showing his brother's back facing him, as soon as he entered they banged closed, before he said anything, Cassian winnowed beside him.

"What's wrong?" Cassian looked at them both, his hurried voice echoing through the silent room.

"Azriel was kissing Elain." Rhys turned to look at them both, giving Cassian a nod towards Az, his arms crossed against his chest while he leaned against the desk.

"I didn't–"

"You were going to!" Rhysand spat, making Azriel shut his mouth, he couldn't deny it.

"Wait–" Cassian stepped forward, watching as Az lowered his head, gasping when he realized it was true, "No fucking way! Did Ace break up with you?" Azriel's only response was a deep sigh.

"No, she didn't." Rhys answered for him.

"Brother..." Cassian's hand met Az' shoulder, "Why?" He was pissed but needed to know why Azriel was acting like that.

"I think–"

"Huh, you're not even sure." Rhys scoffed, shaking his head.

"I think Elain is my mate."

"What? Az, that's really serious..." Cass spoke softly, almost unsure. "Are you sure?"

"I– No, but it just makes sense!"

"How, Azriel?" Rhysand yelled, stepping closer to him. "How does it make sense? You've known Ace for centuries, been dating her for 80 years, you live with her! I swear I thought you were going to propose to her soon!" His hand met Azriel's sholder, shaking him. Rhys sighed, dropping his head and shoving Az away before turning back to sit on his chair.

"Az," Cassian started, "Does Ace know?"

"No, I don't know how to tell her." Az muttered the last part.

"You'll have to find a way. I don't know why you think Elain is your mate and not her but she deserves to know. Having a mate doesn't necessarily mean you two should be romantically involved, nor should you be anything at all, but it is clear that you're attracted to Elain and that's just... unacceptable."

"Why?" Azriel said exasperated, "Three brothers for three sisters, it just makes sense!" He yelled,banging his hands on Rhysand's desk.

"Are you insane?" Rhys yelled back, standing up from his chair. "You are in a relationship, Azriel! It doesn't matter if it makes sense, be responsible, she's not just a fling you had, you can't push her aside just because your cock gets hard around a pretty female. Ace is your girlfriend, has been for almost a century, the possibility of another female being your mate should not interfere in your relationship with her, it didn't have to. Elain could end up being just a great friend, or even better, Ace could be your mate..."

"If she was my mate, don't you think it would've snapped by now?" Azriel's question didn't really sound like a question.

"Is that all you heard from everything Rhys said?" Cassian looked incredulous.

"Azriel..." Rhysand's patient was slipping away. "I do not know what to say to make you understand–"

"There's nothing to understand, Elain is my mate and I want to be with her."

"Then fucking break up with Ace first!" Darkness crawling their way around them.

"What the fuck, brother?" Cassian yelled, for the first time that morning. "Didn't you learn anything from Mor leading you on all those centuries? You want to be with Elain? Fine, but break up with your girlfriend first. Just know that there's a lot in line here..." Silence enveloped the three of them, tension sitting heavy on their shoulders.

"Leave, go talk to Ace and fix this shit," Rhysand rubbed his temples, "Don't do to her what has been done to you."

𓂃

Azriel spent a few hours flying above Velaris, trying to forget about what had happened, he didn't know what he did wrong or why Rhysand was so upset. He decided to come back and talk with Elain first, then he'd talk with you, but Rhysand's talons scratched his mind walls as soon as he saw her, telling him to stay away from her until he broke up with you. When he got home he was so upset that you were the only thing keeping him from his possible mate, that when he saw you, he would definitely take his anger out on you. You were so relaxed and he was completely the opposite of that, your eyes puffy from sleep while his were bloodshot from the lack of it.

He couldn't stop the sudden hatred that consumed him at hearing your voice, he wasn't sure if it was directed at you or him, he spend the whole day resenting you while you were here worried about him. He couldn't stand the sound of your comforting voice, not while comparing it to Elain's, your eyes searching for his with so much love and he wondered when was the last time he really stared into them.

So he ignored you, he wasn't sure what he had answered you, his whole body aching with stress that he just wanted some form of release. Release that never came, he thought that by the time he finished bathing he'd feel better, but he didn't. Nothing seemed to work, the warm water did nothing to help soothe his muscles, and no matter how much he scratched, he still felt dirty.

Stepping out of the bathroom only angered him further, your scent still lingered even after hours of leaving the bed. Azriel didn't know what he'd do if you talked to him again, didn't know what he'd tell you, if he lied you would know, and if he didn't... you would be hurt.

𓂃

As soon as your eyes focused on the house, you wanted to winnow back home, but Rhys didn't give you a chance to do so. The front door being yanked open made you tear your eyes from the window, where you could see silhouette with wings, the smile your High Lord greeted you with was comforting. He was loyal to his brothers, if you had done something to upset Azriel, he wouldn't be smiling at you like that.

"You came!" He waved his hand, calling you inside.

"Someone threatened me." He laughed at your attempted joke, no humor filling your voice. As you walked closer to him, he pulled you into a hug, it didn't really seem like it was for you, his chin rested on your shoulder like you weren't almost half his size, it was comforting nonetheless. An exaggerated gasp pulled you away from each other's embrace.

"That's like the worse form of betrayal!" Cassian cried out, his hand that was resting on his chest reached out to push Rhysand away. "We could've had a family hug but you were selfish." His strong arms engulfing you into an embrace, lifting you off the ground, he let out a dramatic groan as if it had taken him so much effort to do so.

"Stop it, you're going to squeeze her." Rhys laughed, tapping his brothers shoulder.

"Jealous." Cassian whispered in your ear, making you giggle.

By the time Cassian set you back down, you had forgotten you were worried, if that was Rhysand's intention when he came to greet you at the door, it had worked. You were pulled inside by the hand, Cass gushing about all the things there were for dinner, his groovy voice muffling out a female giggle. The table was set only a few minutes after Cassian had sat her down, his conversation topics never ending. The first time she saw Azriel, he was coming out of the kitchen, right after Elain.

"She needed help with the dessert." Nesta muttered, her voice filled with something she couldn't exactly place. She couldn't dwell on it further, Azriel was looking at her now, his feet glued to the ground. It was clear he really wasn't expecting her to come.

[dirtyvulture]

The Maid

Socialite!Wanda Maximoff x Beefy!Rich!Reader*

Maid!Natasha Romanoff x Beefy!Rich!Reader*

18+ only, read at your own risk

Word count: 4663

Summary: You are married to a wealthy socialite, but your newly hired housemaid doesn’t approve of the marriage.

AN: I was reading a book series and got this idea. Enjoy!

*Reader has a penis, no pronouns used.

“I still don’t think it’s a good idea,” you say, poking at the sad bowl of cereal before you.

“Why not?” Your wife frowns at you from across the kitchen.

“Because we’re doing fine! We don’t need any extra help,” you emphasize.

“You’re not the one stuck at home all day cleaning the house and cooking all the meals,” she snaps. Your eyes shift to the bowl of cereal you’d had to make yourself because she was too busy at her pilates class to cook you anything more substantial. 

“This house is huge compared to our old one,” your wife continues. “And if you’re not going to help me around here, I’m going to hire someone who will.” Annoyance burns in your chest because you run your own company full-time, and your wife inherited all her wealth from her parents and hadn’t worked a real job in her entire life. “Besides, Steve’s the one who recommended her and he said she’s been really helpful to his family.”

“You seem to spend a lot of time talking to Steve,” you note, although you feel guilty for calling out your neighbor across the street. You’d spoken to him a few times and he seemed like a decent guy, but you weren’t stupid enough to not notice how often your wife would find her way over to his lawn multiple times a week.

“You’re at work all day and don’t answer your phone half the time,” she says. “You don’t expect me to stay in this gigantic house all by myself doing chores, do you? I’m not a house servant, Y/N.”

“No, of course you’re not,” you apologize. You glance at the Omega watch that had been an engagement gift from your wife. “Hey, I have to get going to work now.” Dutifully, you bring your bowl over to the sink and stop to kiss your wife on the way there. “I’ll see you later, honey.”

“Remember, the pool guy is coming at noon so you need to be back before then,” she says. “I don’t want to be left by myself with him.”

“Okay, I’ll try.” You’re not sure why she’s so nervous around the pool technician; he was about 30 years older than the both of you and had been very sweet and professional when he came to give you a quote for the maintenance.  

“No, don’t try. Do it,” she insists.

You try to hold in your sigh. “Yes, dear.”

***********************************************************************

Natasha curses to herself as she drags her vacuum cleaner and basket of cleaning supplies up the sidewalk to your home. Your wife–Mrs. L/N, as she had asked Natasha to call her, while you had no problem being on a first name basis with her–had told Natasha she didn’t want her parking in front of your house, requiring her to park around the corner. Which wouldn’t have been a significant issue except it meant Natasha had to lug everything to your house every time she stopped by.

“Do you need any help, Nat?” Steve Rogers, the friendly neighbor whom she also worked for, waved at her from across the street.

“No, no, I’m fine!” she squeaks, not wanting to bother him. But Steve, ever the gentleman, runs over anyway and she has no choice but to turn over her supplies to him. 

“You know, you can always just park in front of my house,” he offers, bundling the items in his muscular arms.

“That’s okay,” Natasha says. “Mrs. L/N made it very clear that as much as she needs my help, she doesn’t want people to know I’m here.”

Steve doesn’t argue with her and walks her to your front door. “Well, if you ever need anything–”

“Natasha! You’re late!” The front door swings open and Natasha finds herself face-to-face with your wife. “Oh, hello, Steven.” She flips her hair over her shoulder and bats her eyelashes at him. “Didn’t expect to see you here.” 

“I was just helping Natasha with her things,” Steve explains.

“Oh, don’t worry about her. She can handle herself. Right, Natasha?” She turns a judgmental eye on Natasha.

“I appreciate the help, Steve,” is all Natasha says.

“You’re welcome. See you both later!” He quickly jogs back to his home. 

Mrs. L/N ushers Natasha into the house. “I left a grocery list on the kitchen counter for you. If you can’t find something, please call me before you pick any substitutions,” she instructs briskly. “I have to go out to the HOA meeting, but Y/N should be home by noon before the pool man comes. Do not let him into the yard if Y/N or me are not home yet, understand?”

“Yes, ma’am.” Natasha nods her head, fighting the urge not to roll her eyes at this lady.

“Good.” She leaves towards the garage and Natasha can hear the purr of her Mercedes starting up.

It was Natasha’s second week working for your family, and she hated nearly every second of it–mostly because of your spoiled, bratty wife. But the few times Natasha had met you, she thought you were as kind and charming as could be (and very nice to look at). She wondered how the two of you had gotten together in the first place and what you saw in your wife. She was one of the bossiest clients Natasha had ever had, and Natasha had seen her be not much nicer to you. Plus, she was definitely hitting on Steve, but Natasha knows he wouldn’t cheat on his wife with yours.

She dumps her supplies in the foyer, then goes into the kitchen to find the grocery list. It only takes a single glance to know that your wife is totally fucking with her–what the hell is a rambutan? Natasha sighs loudly, wishing there were someone around to hear her distress. As much as she wants to quit working for your family, she needs the money. And she was still so new to the business, she couldn’t afford to make any bad impressions. 

With another sigh, she balls the grocery list into her fist and heads back out.

***********************************************************************

Natasha returns from her grocery trip just in time to see you pull into the garage in your bright green luxury sports car she doesn’t even recognize the manufacturer’s logo of. You get out and wave to her and she smiles back, almost forgetting the awful phone call she had to make to your wife when she searched the entire store and still couldn’t locate the rambutans (she ended up having to make a separate trip to Whole Foods for them). 

“Hi, Natasha!” you say, running down the driveway to help her with the grocery bags.

“Oh, don’t worry about these,” Natasha says, trying to swat your hands away. “It’s my job to take them into the house–”

“No, let me help,” you insist, scooping up four bags in one hand in one go. “Oh! Rambutans. These are my favorite. Thank you for finding them.” 

Instantly, Natasha wants to take back all the curses she had put on the spiky red fruit. “It was nothing,” she lies, making a mental note to buy out the store’s entire stock for you the next time she goes.

With your help, it takes half the amount of time to get all the groceries in the house. You also insist on helping her put everything away, showing her the proper drawers in the fridge for the fruit and vegetables versus the meat, and where the cereals went in the pantry. Natasha is beyond grateful for you; she knows your wife would have happily stood there and watched her struggle, then loudly criticized her for not knowing better.

“Thank you, Y/N,” she says, her hand inadvertently brushing yours when you pass her the last bag of apples. She withdraws from you almost too quickly, her skin hot where you touched her, but you don’t seem to notice, distracted by the ringing of the doorbell. 

“That must be Stan.” You dash off to meet the pool man. 

Natasha fills the dishwasher as much as she can and starts in, then goes to finish washing the oddly-shaped pots and pans that didn’t fit in the sink. The kitchen window looks out to your yard that is probably bigger than the footprint of her entire apartment complex. The pool has two different levels, but both are filled with a suspicious green water. You’re standing poolside talking to Stan, an older gentleman whom Natasha personally knew to be very kind from her few interactions with him when he conducted work on the neighborhood pool’s. 

She’s so busy looking at you, fantasizing about a life where this big house could be hers, with a doting partner who would take care of her and raise a family with her, she doesn’t hear the front door opening until she hears the unholy screech from your wife.

“Natasha, what are you doing?” she yells, hurrying over and snatching the soapy sponge right out of Natasha’s gloved hand.

“Um–the dishes? They didn’t all fit in the dishwasher–”

“You turned on the dishwasher?” Her eyes grow wide and her mouth drops like Natasha’s just confessed to a murder. “Didn’t I tell you we don’t run the dishwasher before seven p.m.?” Natasha is certain she’s never heard this instruction before in her life and watches as she rushes over to turn off the dishwasher mid-cycle and throw it open. “Also, you didn’t pack this correctly, you definitely could’ve fit those pots in here.”

“I’m sorry, I’ll rearrange it now,” Natasha says, trying not to get flustered. Surely your wife wouldn’t fire her over such a minor transgression, would she?

“Is Stan here yet?” she asks, but before Natasha can answer, she is interrupted by a shout and a splash. Both of them crane their necks to look out the window, where they can see Stan floating facedown in the pool. You’re kicking your shoes off and throwing your phone onto the lawn before you run up to the pool’s edge and dive in with a form that would rival an Olympic swimmer’s. Your wife screams and darts towards the back door, Natasha following right behind her.

“Y/N! What are you doing?”

“He fell in!” you answer, coughing out water as you loop your arms under the elderly man and kick back towards the stairs. “He just zoned out when he was talking to me and suddenly tipped over into the pool. I think he’s having a seizure.”

“I’ll call 911!” Natasha offers, not wanting to be as useless as your wife. She struggles to get her phone out of her pocket and punches in the number with shaky fingers.

Your wife hovers by the pool stairs, making no move to assist you as you struggle to drag the old man out, clearly weighed down by the water drenching both of your clothes. Stan is holding himself in a position so stiff it reminds Natasha of a mannequin. 

“Ugh, don’t get me wet, Y/N!” your wife complains as the brackish water sprays everywhere.

“I’m trying not to!” you snap, gently laying Stan on the grass.  

“Nine-one-one, what is your emergency?” a dispatcher picks up.

“Hello? Yes, I’m at 2800 Sherwood Drive. There’s a man here who fell into the pool and we just got him out, but he’s having some kind of medical episode,” Natasha says, putting her phone on speaker. The dispatcher asks if he’s breathing and you confirm. 

“Can roll him to his side and stabilize his head?”

Without hesitation, you peel off your shirt and roll it into a soggy ball, gently tucking it under the man’s head like a makeshift pillow. Natasha tries not to stare at your nicely sculpted torso, highlighted further by the water droplets on your skin, but her face burns in shame when she sees your wife glaring at her ogling.

“Okay, his head is stabilized!” you call out.

“Perfect, emergency services are two minutes away.”

“Thank you.”

It’s a big scene at the house by the time the ambulance pulls up. Your wife eventually covers you up with a towel, but you’re insistent on waiting outside for Stan to be carefully loaded into the ambulance before you finally allow your wife to usher you back into the house, still dripping water everywhere.

“Thank you for the help today, Natasha,” you say, reaching out to give her shoulder a gentle pat as you walk by her towards the house. Natasha doesn’t even know how to respond but nods furiously and mumbles that “she didn’t help much.”

“You can go now, Natasha,” your wife says curtly, and Natasha doesn’t question her and practically flees the premise.

***********************************************************************

It’s been a few weeks since the pool incident and Natasha is barely able to hold onto her sanity with the never-ending list of ridiculous tasks from your wife. When she holds a fundraiser meeting for a charity Natasha is sure she made up on her own, she calls on Natasha as her personal servant, forcing her to serve a collection of the snobbiest women in the neighborhood. Maybe I should take up meditation, Natasha thinks to herself as she prepares a third pitcher of iced tea because the first two “did not have the right balance of sugar to tea,” according to your wife, despite that Natasha had put in exactly one-third cup of sugar as requested.

Natasha doesn’t see you much around the house anymore, and she wonders if your wife purposely scheduled her around your work hours, or told you to stay away from her. She wants to ask you if there were any updates about Stan’s condition (there was no way she was going to get that information from your wife). She missed hearing your voice and seeing your smile…wait.

She shakes her head–she shouldn’t be thinking about you like that. You’re her employer and you’re married (to a bitch). It would be entirely inappropriate and dangerous to pursue you, so she would just have to make do with ogling you from afar. Besides, a lot of her clients did not show her respect, likely due to the nature of her job, so just because you were courteous and respectful towards her, didn’t mean you felt a specific way about her.

“You know, Y/N used to be fat.” Natasha startles when your wife walks up behind her. She almost drops the picture frame she’d been dusting of the two of you on a beach, holding hands as you walked towards the sunset in the background.

“Excuse me?” Natasha asks. 

“Fat and poor,” Mrs. L/N adds, much to Natasha’s horror. 

“That’s an awful thing to say about your partner,” Natasha says.

She shrugs. “I don’t want anything to be sugarcoated for you. All of this–” She gestures around to the grandiose-ness of the house, and points to a more recent photo of you, where you’re carrying your wife in your arms, the bulge of your biceps and wideness of your shoulders stretching out your shirt. “–was not a thing when we first started dating. I was there when Y/N had nothing and was no one.”

“Okay.” Natasha wonders why she’s acting like she did you a favor, when you are clearly the catch in the relationship. But then it suddenly dawns on her the reason she’s saying this is because she knows Natasha might have a small crush on you.

“Y/N would never leave me, because I was there from the beginning,” Mrs. L/N says loftily.

“Of course,” Natasha says, fearing she has made a terrible mistake. “Y/N must be very lucky to have you.”

“You have no idea,” your wife smirks. “So let me be a reminder to keep things professional in my house. I’d hate for you to lose your job here. As far as I know, this is the only neighborhood that employs you, and your reputation is everything, isn’t it? One bad review could spoil the whole bunch, and you’d be off having to peddle your services elsewhere.” Icy fear pits at the bottom of Natasha’s stomach. “That is, if the police don’t pick you up first.”

“What are you talking about?” Natasha whispers, even though she knows exactly what Mrs. L/N is talking about. She had been foolish to assume her past would never follow her, but how could your wife have found out? Clint had assured her that with a new name and a new location, she’d be untraceable. 

“Because they’d have to arrest you from stealing Y/N away from me,” Mrs. L/N laughs shrilly. Natasha chuckles nervously, although she was certain adultery was not a punishable offense in the state. “But I’m just joking. That would never happen, right?”

“Never,” Natasha promises, hoping her cover will stay hidden for now. 

“Good.”

***********************************************************************

“How was your day at work, honey?”

“Busy,” you grunt, moodily poking at the chicken pot pie Natasha had made before she went home. The food tastes good–it’s better than anything your wife has ever cooked, you think privately, but you don’t have much of an appetite. The end of the financial quarter was rapidly approaching and it had become extremely apparent to you that the profits of your company were not outweighing the expenses for the third quarter in a row. You were digging yourself a bigger and bigger grave, dipping into your personal investments to pay your way out of debt. It was the most stressful period of your life, with no relief in sight, and your wife wouldn’t understand the pressure.

“Sorry to hear that,” she says, although her words don’t come across as very genuine. “My day wasn’t so great either. I got into an argument earlier with Mrs. Harkness at the HOA meeting.” Your wife clicks her tongue. “Some of these women will go to war over their lawn decorations, I swear.”

A jab bubbles on the tip of your tongue; was she really trying to compare an HOA meeting to your very real, very stressful job running a business? But you stay quiet, shoveling another spoonful of pot pie into your mouth.

“Where’s Natasha?” you ask. Usually she stayed around for dinner (not that your wife would let her sit at the same table as you), but you hadn’t seen her in the house for a while.

“I ran out of time today, so I sent her out to grab some things for tomorrow,” she answers. When Natasha had first been hired, you had been under the impression that she was exclusively a housekeeper, helping with all the household chores your wife couldn’t complete. But you had heard about her running grocery trips and waiting on your wife and her friends during meetings, turning Natasha into more of a personal assistant than anything. You hoped she was okay with that; you knew how demanding your wife could be sometimes.

“Oh, okay.” You finish your helping of pot pie in silence, then go to place your plate in the dishwasher, before going into the bedroom to retire for the night. As you’re washing your face in the sink, you hear your wife pad up behind her.

“Sorry you’ve been really stressed lately,” she says, rubbing her hand up and down your arm. 

“It’s not your fault,” you respond, drying your face on a towel, going back into the bedroom to find your pajamas so you can take a shower.

“Y/N.” Your wife stops you as you’re searching through the dresser for your pajamas. When you look at her, she’s eyeing you with her bottom lip between her teeth. She struts towards you, slowly sinking to her knees and looking up at you. “Maybe I can do something to make you feel better?” 

With you being so busy with work and her busy with the new move, the two of you hardly had time for each other. Plus, your wife tended to be on the particular side and never seemed to be in the mood if you initiated. It was a little frustrating sometimes, but you found ways to cope and besides, it did make the times she was ready for you all the more enjoyable.

She pulls down your pants, palming at your boxers and causing you to groan. You unbutton your shirt as you feel your body start to heat up and let it slide off your shoulders. 

“Fuck, don’t tease me,” you grunt when she leans forward and nibbles on the exposed flesh of your thigh. 

“You need to savor the moment,” she says, although you can tell she’s just as impatient when she hooks her fingers into the waistband of your boxers and draws them down to the floor. Your heavy cock bobs out, slapping against your abs before your wife grabs onto it and brings it to her mouth. 

“Fuck, baby,” you moan, tipping your head back when you feel her lips wrap around your cock. You wrap your hand in her hair, pumping your hips forward to sink your length into the heat of her throat. She grips onto your thighs to steady herself, the faintest of choking noise escaping her. You grunt in satisfaction, thrusting a little harder until the tip of your cock bumps the back of her throat. She whines louder, but doesn’t pull away, and your knees are practically shaking at the sight of her deepthroating all of you.  

“You’re doing so well,” you praise and her cheeks flush red. “Are you gonna let me finish in your mouth?” you ask, and she nods in response, the movement causing a burst of pre-cum to leak out of your cock. You stroke a stray hair out of her face so you can look into her eyes when you finish. “That’s my good girl.”

***********************************************************************

Natasha lets herself into your home, juggling three heavy bags that she’s pretty sure are cutting off the circulation to her fingers. She passes by the kitchen, confused to see it empty; when she had left the two of you were just settling down to eat. She puts the bags by the foot of the table, recalling the time Mrs. L/N had screamed at her for putting “dirty outside bags” on the place where you ate. She wouldn’t make that same mistake again.

Checking her phone, Natasha sees that your wife had sent her a text less than five minutes ago.

Natasha sighs. It had already been a long day, but she wasn’t given an ounce of leeway. She knows better than to walk away from an unfinished task (especially around your wife), so she trudges up the stairs and turns into the guest room. Hopefully her presence can go unnoticed, and your wife will magically find the folded clothes long after Natasha is gone. 

There are a total of three shirts and a pair of jeans left to fold. Natasha knows it would be too much to ask your wife to do on her own. She grits her teeth and folds the clothes, taking the better part of a minute, then looks around and realizes she doesn’t remember where she put the laundry basket. 

Maybe she had already brought it to the master bedroom, but she knew she couldn’t just leave it on the guest bed, or your wife would probably fire her. Natasha gathers up the clothes and walks down the hall to the master bedroom, but freezes in her tracks when she hears noises coming out of the bedroom.

Moaning noises, specifically.

Natasha can’t stop herself as she moves closer to the door, positioning herself to peer through the crack in between the door and the wall. She sees your wife on her knees, her head bobbing against your waist as you stand there, half-naked, moaning and thrusting your hips forward.

Natasha feels like she can’t breathe, totally shocked and embarrassed to have caught the two of you in a moment. She has a strange sense that your wife had set her up like this on purpose, but the thought quickly dissipates as she finds herself moving closer to the door.

“That’s my good girl.”

Natasha’s stomach flips when she hears you say this, even though it isn’t directed to her. But maybe one day it could be. 

She’s practically pressed up against the door, the fear of being caught burning away in her eagerness to keep watching you. The way the muscles in your stomach and thighs flex as your hips roll in a sinful rhythm. Natasha is almost ashamed at how fast she feels the arousal building in her own stomach.

You grunt louder and slow down as you seem to near release. Natasha can’t help but wonder what you must taste like and if she could even fit you down her throat. Your wife seems to be struggling with your size, but Natasha would do everything in her power to make you happy and not let any drop go to waste.

Without warning, your wife removes you from her mouth. Both you and Natasha gasp–you probably in frustration, and Natasha because she’s shocked at how big you are. Your cock is shiny with saliva and pre-cum and is so hard it looks like it’s about to burst.

“I didn’t finish,” you whine as your wife stands up, wiping her mouth with the back of her hand. She puts her hand on your chest and pushes you back until you stumble onto the bed.

“I know. But I don’t want you to finish in my mouth, I want you to finish inside me.”

“Oh.” Your wife takes off her pants and climbs onto you.

Natasha knows how wrong it is for her to stand there and continue watching. She should’ve left a long time ago. But somehow, she knows your wife set her up to see this, and instead of running away in shame, Natasha is totally absorbed and her obsession with you only skyrockets. 

The headboard creaks against the wall as your wife rides you, both of you moaning in unison. Natasha’s eyes are stuck on you, trying to memorize your body’s reactions and wondering if she’d ever be the cause of them one day. You tilt your head back into the pillows, your back arching off the mattress, your hands wrapped around your wife’s waist as you thrust up into her. 

“I’m ready. I’m gonna cum,” you announce breathlessly.

Natasha hopes you’ll say those words to her one day. But she turns away as you finish, scolding herself for her unprofessional and frankly creepy behavior. She drops the folded clothes to the floor, knowing your wife will eventually find them and know of their origin. Maybe she’ll get fired for this; if anything, it’d be for the better. She doesn’t trust herself to be around you anymore–not that she’d ever be so bold as to make a move and disrespect your marriage, but she’d never be able to look at you the same way again.

She quickly pads down the stairs and leaves the house, the emptiness in her heart and core almost reaching a painful point.

***********************************************************************

You jerk your hips up a final time as you cum, dropping back onto the bed exhausted and spent. 

“Hmm, that was fun,” your wife pants against your neck, and you wrap your arm around her tightly, pulling her closer to your body. 

“We can shower together?” you suggest, digging your fingers teasingly into her naked hips. 

“Sure. Give me a minute.” She lays her head on your chest.

Despite your differences, you were truly happy to have this woman by your side through it all. She had been your longest supporter and that had meant everything to you when no one else believed in you.

You kiss her forehead softly. “I love you, Wanda.”

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

AN: Actually screaming and crying. Nat please come save us 😭

To be continued?

@holiday-house-of-m I finally kept my promise to you after 84 years.

Please like, reblog, and comment! Follow for more content. 🥰

[pellucid-constellations]

In which, Azriel tries, and you would be happier for it.

warning: angst

Azriel stared up at the ceiling as it stared down at him, the omnipresence of its height a weight that dragged him deeper and deeper into the floor. The cracks and divots in the stone bit into his wings, but nothing could remove him from this place. 

Nothing could alleviate the pressure that consumed him. 

He could have laid on the bed, shrouding himself in the comfort of the blankets you chose and burying his face in the pillows that might still smell like you, but that was something for another time. Today, Azriel chose the floor. Today, Azriel could not choose anything else. 

His inhales hurt. 

He didn’t know where his shadows were. They seemed to run from him recently, maybe out of disappointment. 

Maybe out of something else—Azriel didn’t care about much recently. 

Specs of dust hit the sunlight that filtered through the cottage windows, tinted green to reflect the stained glass you had picked out. Azriel loved stained glass. Azriel loved you. He watched as the air moved around him and he remained still. 

Sunlight did not smell the same. 

What a ridiculous notion—sunlight having a scent. 

“Az, honey?” 

Azriel blinked much harder than he meant to. He inhaled and it hurt. 

“Are you in here? I’ve been looking everywhere.” 

Azriel bit into his lip until the tang of blood ruptured along his tastebuds. He felt the cold of the floor against the pads of his fingers as he pressed himself up to a seat, his wings not following suit. Footsteps were soft in the hall until they shuffled into the bedroom. 

“Oh, Az,” you cooed. Azriel held his breath as you kneeled beside him. Your skin was wrong as it brushed along on his cheek. “Are you not okay today?”

Azriel couldn’t look at you, keeping his gaze firmly rooted on the carpet beneath the bed. His voice was gruff as he replied. “I’m fine.” 

The hand on his face trailed down to his shoulder. You wouldn’t touch him like that. “You aren’t fine. We knew this would take… a long time.” 

Heat invaded his waterline. Azriel was so tired of crying. 

“I’ll be fine. I just need—” His words ended in a choke. 

From his peripheral, he could see you shaking your head. “You shouldn’t keep coming here. It’s not good for you.” 

“Where else would I go?” He asked, all watery and broken, still refusing to meet your eye. “This is my home.” 

“You should be with your family.” 

“You are my family.” 

“Azriel…” 

His name sounded wrong—it trailed off and fell from your lips so wrong. This was coming to an end and Azriel knew it. He gritted his teeth and felt the wetness track down his cheeks. 

“I can’t do this without you. I can’t keep doing this,” Azriel admitted. He finally looked up, the blurry image of you filling his vision. The stained glass and his tears made you look so beautiful, and Azriel thought he might even smell the subtle hints of your perfume. 

Only, he didn’t, and Azriel knew it wouldn’t ever again. That’s why he had held his breath—the reason he had stared so hard at the ground when you were right beside him. 

“Azriel, is it happening again?” you asked. Only, it wasn’t you. It had never been you. “Should I get Rhys?” 

Azriel’s jaw trembled as his vision cleared.

“I can call for him,” Mor stressed, leaning her head down to try and catch Azriel’s retreating gaze. “He’d help. He’d make it easier, like before.”

But Azriel didn’t want it to feel easier. If it were easier, that would mean you were really, truly gone. When it hurt, it reminded him of you. Your love had felt this big. 

It couldn’t feel easy. It shouldn’t. 

Azriel huffed out a breath that pricked at the hole in his chest. He searched for the thread within him and found it exactly where you’d left it—limp and lifeless, but a reminder that you were real and you were his. 

“She wouldn’t have wanted this for you,” Mor tried again, using the only excuse that seemed to get him out of this house. “She would want you to be happy.” 

And Azriel wasn’t sure if that was achievable—being happy when you were dead. But he would try, for you. 

Azriel hauled himself up with the guidance of Mor’s hand, and he tried. 

[evie-sturns]

dinner - Chris Sturniolo

summary: you and your boyfriend chris have just had your one year anniversary, to celebrate chris's family invites you and your parents round for dinner! but when chris gets worked up by your touch he has to take you to the bathroom...

contains: smut, bathroom!sex, semi-public, fluff, teasing, stomach bulge.

--------------------------°°••....••°°--------------———

in honor of chris and i's one year anniversary, his family is deciding to throw a huge dinner party. i'm not too sure if his extended family will be there but my parents and siblings are coming.

"chris?" i call out, spraying my face several times with setting spray after finally finishing my lengthy getting-ready process. i hear his excited footsteps sprinting up the stairs before the bedroom door swings open.

"you look so pretty," chris smiles, walking over to me and wrapping his arms around me.

"oh- chris! careful, i don't want to get makeup on your shirt!" i laugh while chris smooshes my face onto his white shirt from his deadly tight hug.

"right so were gonna go pick up matt and nick- i think everyone else is meeting at mary lou's." i say, pulling away from the hug and grabbing chris's hand.

chris nods before dragging me downstairs, my high heels click against the wooden floors as i adjust the straps of my white sundress.

i turn my phone on do not disturb while unlocking the front door, "how long are we going to be there?" chris asks, stepping out into the afternoon sun.

"only a couple hours, you might get a little bored." i tell chris before jumping into the drivers seat of our car.

"no- i'll be fine," chris defends himself with a sigh.

i look over at him "you okay?" i ask, rubbing his shoulder as i drive down the driveway.

"just.. really fucking nervous" chris laughs.

"chris no. you know my family loves you so much, all your brothers will be there its a happy thing!" i try to lift his enthusiasm with a confident tone.

-

i pull into the driveway of chris's parents house, ever since we picked up matt and nick, chris has cheered up. hes been laughing dramatically while making stupid jokes.

"you guys ready?" i ask with a grin, switching off the car.

"yes ma'am." nick jokes, swinging open the car door and jumping out, matt follows close behind. chris get's out of the car and instantly starts walking up to the front door, i run up behind him.

the front door opens slowly, mary lou's face peeks out and instantly lights up "hello!!" she sings, wrapping her arms around me.

"your children are here too" matt scoffs, she wraps her other arm around matt nick and chris, squeezing us all together. the sweet smell of her floral perfume flooding my nostrils.

"come in! come in." she hurrys us inside, the kitchen has my older brother and younger sister in it, roaming through the pantry. the dining room has tens of adults around all chatting happily around the table.

"look whos here!" jimmy calls out from the dining table, everyones heads snap up to me and chris. dramatic hollers come from the people round the table, chris and i burst into laughter.

“come! come sit” my mother smiles widely, tapping the two seats left for chris and i. i look over at chris and flash him a quick smile before sitting down

chris sits down right next to me, our shoulders brushing briefly.

"its been so long! hows molly?" i ask, molly is my dog. shes getting old but shes my childhood dog.

"oh shes doing great, you know still limping but we took her to the vet a couple weeks ago." my mom replies with a small sigh,

"anyways- and chris! i've missed you darling congratulations on 1 year! hows that youtube going?" she continues, looking up at chris with a wide grin.

"thank you! it's going great thank you, my career now- yeah!" chris speaks, his hands resting comfortably on his lap.

"ahh- youtube i remember when you were just starting a couple years ago!" my dad laughs, before chris and i dated we were friends since high school. my dad always loved chris, he says that chris is a 'sweet boy'.

all heads on the table turn towards mary lou and my cousin james, bringing over several dishes to the table.

"this looks awesome thank you." matt smiles up at mary lou.

i look over at chris, who is now shifting in his seat. he locks eyes with me and instantly breaks eye contact, looking down at his lap.

i serve up some food on my plate,

suddenly i feel chris's hand on my thigh as he talks to one of my cousins, his long fingers trace small circles on my inner thigh under the table.

i stab my fork into the cabbage on my plate, glaring over at chris as he happily chats with various members of my family while his fingers slowly shift up my thigh.

he drags his fingers just under the hem of my dress, i can feel myself growing more sexually frustrated, my panties dampening by the second. his pinky lightly grazes my panties.

"chris." i whisper, he turns to me with an innocent face and a small head tilt.

as soon as he wraps up the conversation with my cousin he leans over, his lips just below my ear before he whispers subtly

"you're gonna excuse yourself to the bathroom and i'm going to meet you there in a minute okay?"

i nod, squeezing my thighs together.

"i'm just going to pop to the bathroom" i smile warmly at my parents like my boyfriend wasn't just teasing me under the table.

i scoot my chair back and stand up, swiftly walking upstairs and taking the first door into the large bathroom.

the walls in chris's parents house are paper thin, last time i was hear i could hear conversations from each bedroom clearly, so now i hear chris making up a lame excuse to meet me up here.

"hey- i don't know if y/n's feeling very well she was nauseous on the way here" he lies through his teeth "i'm going to go check up on her." chris says, i hear his chair shift before footsteps running up here.

he swings open the door with a stupid smile. "yes?" i say with a roll of my eyes.

he walks over to me, grabbing my ass and lifting me up onto the marble countertop. my back presses against the mirror as chris steps between my legs.

I spread my legs apart, causing my dress to ride up my thighs revealing a portion of my panties.

"fucking soaked." chris scoffs, my face flushes as he tugs down my panties to my ankles before putting them in his pocket. he fidgets with the belt of his jeans, letting it drop down followed by his jean.

"if you. make a sound. i will stop completely." chris speaks sternly, i nod, sinking my top teeth into my bottom lip.

"good girl." chris says, rubbing my cheek before lining himself up with me.

he pushes his tip inside of me, observing my face. he slowly gives me more, i shake my head as i press my lips together.

chris is big, its a known fact and it's almost impossible to stay silent when he pounds into me.

"you can take it, i know you can" chris mutters, bottoming out. i arch my back, breathing heavily.

he starts to thrust into me, his hands gripping the plush of my hips. the thrusts grow faster and harder, we both know we don't have all the time in the world so hes desperate to make me cum, and to cum himself.

the angle we're in allows him to repeatedly hit my g-spot.

"fuck!" i moan out, before i can even finish the word chris's hand is plastered over my mouth.

he presses two fingers into my mouth to shut me up.

i whine against his fingers, squeezing my eyes shut as i shift all over the countertop. shortly after my legs start to shake, i feel myself growing so close to my orgasm.

his hand that was on my hip moves to my lower stomach, pressing lightly. i look down, theres a clear stomach bulge.

"you feel me right there sweetheart?" chris breathes, i throw my head back with a frantic nod. he continues to press on my stomach.

i wrap my legs around his back before clenching harshly around him. i squeeze my eyes shut as i fight back all noises that are begging to leave my mouth.

my orgasm crashes over me, chris chuckles lightly before pulling out. he releases into his hand as he throws his head back.

we stay still for a couple seconds, i look down at his hand that he just released in

"gross!" i tease,

"hey it was this or on your dress so i took the practical option." chris replies, i stick up a finger and repeat what he said in a nerdy tone.

i flop down off the countertop, tugging down my dress and reaching into his pocket, digging around for my panties.

i pull them out of his pocket and slide them up my legs, chris washes his hands and redresses himself.

"that was.. hot." i breathe out, unlocking the door to the bathroom.

chris follows close behind me down the stairs, all heads turn to us.

shit. were we too loud?

"oh no! y/n were you sick?" mary lou says with a small pout. i hesitate for a second

"your hair is all messed up and you're absolutely flushed! your red!" my mother adds on,

i look over at chris who has his hands in his pockets awkwardly.

"yeah- i'm sorry guys i threw up in there" i lie with a fake sigh

truthfully, i wasn't sick. i just couldn't tell my whole family that my boyfriend was just balls deep inside of me right upstairs.

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

@luanetaluenta @sturnsssbow @mattfangirl @luvr4miya @luvtay111 @lolasturniolo @freshloveforthefit @ruedowney @lovingchrissposts @333michelle @h3arts4harry @sonicmacks @jamiesturniolo @chrisstopherfilmed @itzdarling @sturniolo-simp4life @daddyslilchickenfingers2 @recklessmatt @ev3rgreenxtrees @lovergirl4387 @certifiednatelover @solarsturniolo @mattsenthusiast @yomamaslays4lyfe @peachmels @alinaa131 @pepsiluvr0209 @creamoncreamoncream2 @szobofc @mattscoquette @blahbell668 @sturniolo04 @ecilphttlunar @pkfferoo @bitchydragonparadise @thematthewlover @sturni0l0 @ratatioulle

[prettyflyforawhitelie]

Hi I love your work so far, do you think you could do headcannons for all the different characters of the main Hazbin Hotel cast when their lover comes to them injured? Like how they would treat you and then how they would deal with the person who harmed you. I would love to see this ahhhh 😫

Ahh of course! I love this, thanks for the request! I hope you like it!

Trope: Hazbin Hotel x Injured!reader

Characters: Alastor, Charlie, Vaggie, Angeldust, Husk, Sir Pentious, Lucifer

Warnings: Physical violence, mention of death, injured reader, blood.

author's note: hey guys! this is my first time doing one of these, and I'm still getting better, so forgive me if its a bit shabby. If you have any requests, feel free to send them in! I'm in a creative buzz rn lol. Enjoy!

🦌📻Alastor📻🦌:

The day that your attacker decides to hurt you is the day that they decide to die. Messing with the Radio Demon’s plaything is about the last thing you want to do. 

Alastor often sent his shadows to follow you into town when he couldnt be with you, so the second you were attacked, Alastor could sense that something was wrong. 

By the time his shadows had carried you back to the hotel, your attacker had already escaped, but luckily, his shadows saw everything.

When he rushed down to see you, he seemed rather indifferent at first. He carried you up to his room, immediately conjuring several healing ointments to heal you quickly.

He laid you in his bed, in which you almost immediately fell asleep.

He hears the whispers of his shadows, and gains all of the information he needs out of them. 

With a single snap of his finger, the issue was taken care of. Rumor has it that the screams of your attackers' seemingly “random” death could be heard about 3 rings down. 

While waiting for you to wake, Alastor conjures two steaming bowls of his mother’s jambalaya. Placing one on the side table next to you, he sits down next to your sleeping body and lightly grazes your head, singing soothing songs until you wake up.  

😈🗝️Charlie🗝️😈:

Would of course be so very angry at whoever did this, but her first priority would be healing you up and making sure that you’re absolutely 100% okay and comfortable. 

Would set you up in her bed and assure that you have anything at all that would make you feel more comfortable. Tea? Yup. Ice pack? Already got it. Cuddles? Of course!

Would definitely let you cuddle with Razzle and Dazzle for as long as you needed.

She would try her best to talk to you and figure out what happened - to figure out who did this to you.

As you told her, she seemed surprisingly… calm? She simply thanked you for telling her and left the room. 

Though Charlie doesn't seem like a particularly violent person… She can get protective over the people she loves. So, let's just say she got that issue taken care of real quick. How stupid to mess with the Morningstar family. 

🪽⚔️Vaggie⚔️🪽:

Anybody in her vicinity needs to watch out when she hears that her love is hurt. 

Like, seriously, heads will roll. But not before she checks on you to evaluate how badly she needs to fuck up the person who did this to you. 

When she sees you, bruised and bloody, she can't help but hold you so tight and cry, scolding you for getting yourself into a bad situation without her there to protect you.

Vaggie knows what it feels like to be beaten and dumped on the side of the street like garbage. She could never forgive herself if she allowed that to happen to anybody else, let alone the genuine love of her life. 

When she asks for the person who did this, you can only give her a vague description. That’s alright though, she will use her former exterminator skills to scan all of Hell and find the person who dared to do this to you. She will not leave this alone until she serves you justice. 

🕷️💖Angeldust💖🕷️:

Coming home from the studio to find you in his room, crying and bruised, he immediately drops whatever he’s doing and comforts you in the biggest hug ever. 

Angel has plenty of experience with being abused and left to fend for himself, so he doesn't immediately resort to asking questions. No, that’s not what you need right now. You just need to know that you’re loved, beautiful, and that this does nothing to affect your worth or value as a person.

He carries you from the floor to his bed, covering you in blankets and laying next to you with Fat Nuggets. 

“It’s okay baby. You can cry, it's okay.” he whispers as you sob into his chest.

He allows you to initiate the conversation of what happened, not wanting to push you past your limits. 

Once he finds out what happened, he knows what he has to do. He waits until you fall asleep, and heads down to the club where your attacker happens to frequent. For once, being a famous pornstar will actually serve in his favor. He tempts your attacker to follow him, and immediately beats him to an absolute pulp. 

He allows the person to live, saying “I am only letting you live so you can know how it feels. You ever try this shit again, and I will find you. Except that time, you wont leave here looking so… whole.”

♥️♦️Husk♦️♥️:

Husk is used to all the residents of the hotel bitching and moaning to him about all of their issues. With Charlie coming to him and oftentimes crying about the many failures of the hotel, tears were no foreign sight to him.

But coming from the kitchen to the bar and seeing you there, looking an absolute mess, was different. 

“What the-What the fuck happened?” he yells. When you flinch, he knows that something happened.

When you explain to him what happened, he immediately needs a description of the attacker. He takes possibly the largest shot you've ever seen and storms out of the hotel.

He wishes that he could do more to protect you. Back when he was an overlord, he had power beyond anybody's imagination. He could've snapped a finger and your attacker would simply disintegrate (but not before he tortured him a bit first). But now that Alastor owned his soul, his powers were limited. 

You know what wasn't limited on husk, though? His pure physical strength.  

He immediately finds the guy walking on the street adjacent to the hotel (dumb, right?) and absolutely obliterates him. 

As the attacker is begging for his life, he just keeps hitting, blind with rage and love for you.

When he wants back into the hotel bloody and exasperated, he sits in the stool next to you and wraps you with one of his wings. 

“It’s all okay now. I’m here” he says as you lean on his shoulder, so ready to go to bed. 

🐍⚙️Sir Pentious⚙️🐍:

Sir Pentious always loved coming to your room to show you his many zany inventions. Normally you welcome him in with open arms, a sweet smile on your face, but today was different.

When he knocked on your door, he was met with absolute silence, which isn't normal for you. When he listened a bit closer, though, he could hear your small sniffles. He trusted his gut and slowly opened the door, fully ready to be denied entry.

Instead, you looked at him shyly, turning away and crying. He could've sworn that he saw a… black eye?

He took this opportunity to come and sit next to you on your floor, placing his arm around you and letting you lean your head on his shoulder. 

When he noticed that you were calming down a bit, he asked you what was wrong.

You explained that while you were engaged in a turf war, some ruffian beat you up, and badly. The girl you had momentarily teamed up with had left you behind, and you were left to trek back to the hotel on your own, barely able to walk. 

You could see something change in his eyes. 

He curled his tail around you, his cool skin calming your nerves. He assured you that he was here now, and nothing like this would ever happen to you again. He then swiftly called his egg bois to entertain and comfort you while he prepared his airship. The idiot that did this to you was going to pay, and not just in turf.

😈🐣Lucifer🐣😈:

Bursting into Lucifer’s room, the only thing you could mutter is “Help” as you fell into his arms. 

He frantically carried you to a chair and tried to assess your injuries. Man, someone fucked you up, and badly. Too bad he would kill them before they could brag about their success. 

He rushed to find ANYTHING that could help you. Bandages, ice, your favorite food, a rubber duck, ANYTHING. 

When he finds you absolutely passed out asleep in the chair, he gently moves you to his bed and tries his best not to stir you. 

As he sits watching you, thinking of your beautiful smile (and how he’ll brutally kill the person who did this to you), he observes your features with great detail. 

When you wake up, you smile. Lucifer must have gone, but sitting on your table is a bowl of soup and… is that a rubber duck that looks like you?

[moonstruckme]

jilly x reader where the reader gets hypothermia

cw: symptoms of mild hypothermia, (implied?) freezing water, non-sexual nudity

poly!Jily x fem!reader ♡ 1.2k words

James half carries you back to the cabin. This is partly because you’re shivering too hard to walk as quickly as you’d like, and partly because your legs simply won’t move the way you tell them to. Your wet lashes feel heavy with the ice crystals you imagine forming on them. 

He passes you off to Lily while he unlocks the front door. She rubs one hand uselessly over your arm through your soaked coat, using the other to unstick a frigid piece of hair from your face. 

They both help you inside. Set you down on the couch, and James makes a sound close to a laugh when you protest about getting wet on his mother’s cushions. 

“Start a fire, please?” Lily is all business, panic making her stern. Or maybe not stern so much as resolved. Her features are set, green eyes alternating between worried and determined, but her hands are characteristically gentle as they unzip your coat and pull you out of it one arm at a time. 

“Love?” 

You realize she’s been talking to you. “Hm?” 

Delicate brows pinch in either concern or relief. “How do you feel, sweetheart?” 

“Oh. Um.” Your chittering makes your words come out jolting and stilted. “Cold.” 

“Tired?” she asks. You put your arms up when she motions for you to, letting her lift your jumper over your head. The thought that you’re the only one getting undressed between your partners doesn’t occur to you; you only know that Lily seems urgent, and you trust her. 

“Ye—yeah.” 

“I think we have an electric blanket around here somewhere,” says James. He’s poking at a log in the fireplace, trying to provoke a bigger flame. “Get her closer to here, love.” 

“I’m still trying to get her out of her wet clothes. Can you help me?” 

James helps you to stand so Lily can tug your trousers off. They stick to your legs but crinkle oddly, stiff with ice. James kisses your temple and murmurs something you can’t quite make out. You feel guilty for ruining what was meant to be a fun afternoon of ice skating on the pond near James’ family cabin. You’ve never heard Lily shout like she did when the ice broke beneath you. 

They wrap you up in an electric blanket and put your hair up in a towel to get it off your neck, and you let James massage warmth into your fingers while Lily makes something warm for you to drink. 

“Jamie,” she calls from the kitchen, “do you all keep a thermometer here?” 

“Um, I’m not sure,” replies James. “If we did, it’d be in one of the drawers in the bathroom.” 

You hear your girlfriend whizz off in that direction. 

“How are you, angel?” James presses a couple of firm, warm kisses to your face, squeezing your hands. “Do you still feel tired?” 

“A little,” you admit. Your shivering has lessened, though. “Is it okay that we left our skates by the pond?” 

“What?” He gives a little laugh. “Yeah, it’s fine. That’s not really the top concern right now, you know?” 

You frown. It’s supposed to snow again tonight. “I don’t want them to get buried…” 

“I’ll go get them later,” James reassures you. He kisses your nose. “Don’t worry about that, lovebug. Just try to get warm, okay?” 

“I sort of feel like you guys are doing all the work for me.” 

James’ laughs as Lily comes to sit beside you. 

“Here, can you keep this in your mouth for me, please?” You nod, but when she slips the thermometer under your tongue she evidently makes a last-minute call to hold it herself instead. Lily’s thumb drags heavily over your cheek. You notice her bottom lip looks colored and bitten. 

“I think I’m okay…” you try to tell her, but stop when she shushes you gently. 

“That’s good, lovely, but don’t talk with this in your mouth.” She gives you a terse smile. 

James transfers both of your hands to one of his, using the other to squeeze her elbow consolingly. Both of your partners watch you intently as you wait. 

When Lily deems it's been long enough and looks at the thermometer, her posture slumps with relief. 

“Oh, it’s—that’s not so bad.” 

James grins, reading over her shoulder. “It must be coming up,” he says confidently. 

You offer your girlfriend a smile. “I told you, I think I’m fine.” 

Lily makes a soft, strangled sound, eyebrows pinching in the moment before she throws her arms around you. You see some of your own surprise reflected in James’ expression as you catch her, bringing her into the heated dome of your electric blanket with you.

“I didn’t know…I was really scared,” she confesses tearily, squeezing you around your neck. 

You rub her back in an attempt to reassure her. Behind her, James is doing the same. He gets his arms around the both of you, holding your shoulders through the blanket. 

“It’s alright,” he says. “We must be doing something right, yeah? Or she wouldn’t be getting better so quickly.” 

Lily exhales a shaky breath. “I am never, ever going ice skating again.” 

“Yes, you are,” you tell her fondly. 

“No. And you shouldn’t either! In fact, I hope our skates do get buried, and neither of you can ever find them.” 

You make a sound of protest, but James speaks over you, “Alright, lovely. We can let nature roll the dice tonight, if that’s what you want.” 

“But James—” 

“Angel, you weren’t witness to your own blue lips,” he tells you, rubbing your shoulder pacifyingly. “I think we’re permitted a bit of overreaction right now. I say bury the skates.” 

You give a little laugh. “You’re both taking this too far. We don’t have to use them, but there’s no reason to leave perfectly good skates out there in the snow.” 

“Mm, let’s say we return to that debate when you’re no longer shivering.” 

You all sit there for a while, holding each other while the fire crackles and warmth seeps into your fingertips. Lily’s hands are actually quite cold around your neck, but you refuse to tell her lest she spring away from you. When the kettle starts to whistle, she sniffs and pulls away anyways, wiping under her eyes. 

“I’ve got it,” says James, standing with a kiss to each of your heads. “What are we having?” 

“Hot chocolate.” She takes a breath, collecting herself. “She needs something with sugar. Thanks, Jamie.” 

You smile at her. “You’re so brilliant. How do you know that?” 

Lily’s lips tilt slightly in response. “I read it somewhere.” 

“So brilliant,” you repeat, kissing her softly on the lips. They’re noticeably warmer than yours, but you feel much more yourself than you had when you first got back to the cabin. “Thanks for helping me.” 

She makes a scoffing sort of noise. It doesn’t sound terribly derisive when it’s bent by fondness like this. Lily touches the backs of her fingers to your cheek, caressing. “You don’t have to thank us. Either of us,” she says. The tears have cleared from her eyes, leaving a raw caring in their wake. “We love you. A lot.” 

Your heart feels more than sufficiently warmed as you close the gap between you again. “I love you a lot, too.”

[unknownplane]

The Court Jester Part 1

Yandere Batfam x GN Reader

Pt. 2, Pt. 3, Pt. 4

"How did this happen?" the man who claimed to be my father asked.

"It started when I was young. My mother was close friends with Bruce Wayne. So when she died, he decided to take me in. Looking back on it now, I can tell it was just so he could have a piece of her even though she was gone. He, like many other men were infatuated with the idea of her and what could happen if they had her. That is how I came along. Someone couldn't keep their hands to themselves. Nobody, but my father knows that they are my father. We have tried finding him before, but there has been no luck.

I was 4 when I was brought to the manor. Bruce, overwhelmed with anguish, couldn't even look at me as I had my mother's features. Alfred showed me around. I even got to meet my new brother Richard, better known as Dick. An accurate nickname because as soon as he met me, he decided he did not want to be around me. That was fine. I was still dealing with the loss of my mother. As time went on, I felt as if I was forgotten. Bruce was busy throwing himself into "work" and he only needed Dicks help. It didn't take me long to figure out who he was. With all the bruises and tension around the house when things got bad in Gotham anyone living in that house could tell he was Batman. He had claimed he didn't want me to get hurt that's why he never asked for help but I knew it was because I looked like mom. I had her (h/c) (h/t) hair and her (e/c) eyes.

A couple of years later, a new boy came into the mix. His name was Jason Todd. He was okay. He didn't really know when to stop, though. I heard a lot of fights between him and Bruce. He talked to me sometimes when we had time. I was in school getting good grades and he was a Robin so we didn't have much time for each other. But then he died, and I had no one again. Even when he did come back, he came back changed he no longer cared for me. He was harsh. Ruined.

Then there was Tim Drake. He was really nice at the beginning, but he got busy and sleep deprived, so I stopped reaching out. I didn't want to take up his time as he had an actual job.

Then Stephanie Brown came, and I realized that there was a pattern. These people were too busy for me. I should stay out of their way and not be a burden as I have proven to be before.

It was like that until Damian came. He was unlike all the other Robins. He was mean and brutal. It was around this time that I started to reach out to the family. I had realized I had severe depression and self esteem issue from being the only one in this family that did not excel at anything. When I reached out, he was the one who but me back in my place. He was the one who told me to stay in the background where I belonged. And I might have if I was still the child that came here unwillingly at 3 years old, but I am no longer that child. I am an adult who has a degree in psychology and has a stable job. So I left.

When I first moved out, the first person I told was my online friend. I had been in contact with him since I was 5. He was like a father to me. He was very happy for me and told me, "You are finally free from that dreadful house!" and I couldn't agree more. I stayed in contact with him over the years, and our bond strengthened.

Then, one day, not even a month after I left the manor, he asked to meet up. I agreed. We met up at an abandoned wearhouse. He had told me he was a wanted man, so I did not mind. When I saw him, my face lit up as did his. We talked about a lot of things that night. One of which was if I wanted to help him in his endeavor. Chaos. And I gladly agreed as I would do anything for him as he was my father.

He soon started training me. Making sure I could deal with pain and know how to fight. The first week was agony, but then we both realized something. No matter how badly I was injured, it never had reproductions as the injuries would heal almost supernaturally. So soon, we started experimenting. Of course, I still felt pain, but anything for my dad. We found that no matter what happened to me, I couldn't die.

Then, I became strong enough to take part in one of his acts. Which leads us to now. Dies that answer your question?" I say, looking into the desperate eyes of The Batman with an elongated smile. Glee shined in my eyes as I finally had his attention.

"But SHHHH dad doesn't want to know your secret identity! Says it would ruin all the fun!" I proclaim. My teeth are fully showing as I giggle.

"What did I do wrong?" Bruce whispers to himself. As if he didn't already know. This was all his fault, and now the last piece he had of (M/N) was out of reach.

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

Hello!! This is my first time writing on Tumbler and just wanted to say Hi. Please let me know if you want this to continue. If it does, updates would probably be slow as I am in college and am using this as an artistic outlet. Thank you so much for reading!!

[muniimyg]

⋆𐙚₊˚⊹ bbydaddy!jk (16) ⋆𐙚₊˚⊹

series m.list // taglist request closed

note: please prioritize your mental health and peace if the following content is too heavy for you. this portion of the plot has a lot of angst, and arguing. overall contains sensitive topics. thank you all for waiting so well for the break-up reveal!

tw: mentions of anxiety/stress/insomnia/ and postpartum depression,, early pregnancy loss (5 weeks), and self-neglect.

🏷️ permanent taglist:

@joonsjuice @pamzn @defzcl @maryy1300 @whoa-jo @taetaecatboy @jksusawife @un06 @firesighgirl @rrosiitas @butterymin @parkinglot-nights @musicjournalsjdb @kissyfacekoo @jkslvsnella @vampcharxter @bloopkook @somehowukook @bbystarcandykoo

//

"so... jungkook moved back in, he bought you a new car, and this entire time you've been broken up—you've been sleeping with him?"

it feels stupid to confess everything to your therapist.

you’ve been avoiding this for 9 months now. 

today it has to be settled. 

it has to be over. 

this feeling in the pit of your stomach that makes you want to throw up over and over again until you have nothing left inside of you. your lips tighten at the way your therapist blinks at you. you've never really been able to read her, but maybe that's what you like so much about her.

sometimes, it's nice not to know and just to take what people say as they are.

"he's not actually moved back in... he just has more closet space."

your therapist notes something down on her pad. then, she looks at you and simply comments, "i see... is that all you think it is? more closet space?"

"y-yes? n-no... no. okay, it's not like we're not back together though..." you begin to explain yourself.

"but you've been sleeping with him the entire time you guys have been broken up?"

you make a face.

your therapist tilts her head and lets out a light sigh. 

"i'm not judging. you two are adults. you both have needs. you both need each other. you both love each other. i'm just clarifying that—"

"okay, yes," you yield. "i have been sleeping with my babydaddy but haven’t gotten back together with him... i mean—we kind of are? to be fair, the break-up wasn’t a real break-up... it just grew into one. i take the blame for the dumping because i was the one who pulled away. so inevitably, i can't help but feel like a villain in all of it... am i? am i the villain? zion had this whole thing about what family is like, a home with another kid from his daycare, and it... it made me feel so guilty. jungkook and i talked about it and worked on it... i know he doesn't blame me, but every time i bring myself closer to... what do i even call this? ... forgiving him? forgiving myself? i d-don't know... all i know is that... every time i want to move on and just be happy—with him. with zion... with my life—i can't find it in me. i pull away, and it hurts everyone around us. sometimes, i wonder if they know it hurts me too."

"what does that mean?" she asks, her tone soft and curious. "good job getting that off your chest. you're doing great, ___."

mumbling a 'thank you,' you sigh and shrug your shoulders. honestly, you can’t think. your mind goes blank. she then sits up, fixing her posture. leaning forward, she makes her observation.

"___, you broke up with jungkook 9 months ago because of the circumstances. sure, he was supportive and understanding, but sometimes, when everything gets too much, the only person who can fix you is yourself. ___, it was a lot. it was heavy. one thing I've noticed about you is that you think and speak as if everything has to be this big thing. you know your emotions are bigger than the problem, yet you suppress them. it's okay to feel them because when you don't, you start to lose yourself. sometimes, it sounds to me like you want to burn the room down for people to empathize with you... for people to see you. for you to see yourself even."

"i don't want to burn anything down—"

"it's an analogy," she explains. "the truth is, for you, being burned out isn’t a thing until you can’t get out of bed. burnout is as simple as not wanting coffee anymore. sometimes, it's losing yourself to stress and anxiety... and people see that. jungkook, your friends, and your parents saw it. you don’t have to prove it. ___, you can’t keep pushing yourself until you can’t run anymore. you have to slow down. you have to let yourself be tired and learn how to rest."

you nod, agreeing with her take. then, you make another confession.

"i understand that," you take a deep breath. "but it’s like… before i knew it, i was upset and unfit for our relationship. i screwed up too early. that's why i broke up with him... but now... i don’t know. the guilt and blame keep pointing in different directions. i don’t know what i'm doing, and i can't do that. i can't not know when it comes to the father of my child and the love of my life."

your therapist purses her lips and offers you a small smile.

"then, ___... is it possible that things are better now? that it's more than his clothes in your home? that the room isn’t burning anymore? is it that maybe... finally, you’re realizing that being tired and burnt out is a part of life? ___, you’ve done nothing but get everything right since your childhood... to let your feelings—good or bad—be true and big isn’t a flaw. it’s you being human."

her words hit you, but not enough to stop your insecurities. with shaky eyes, you ask her, "w-what if i do it again?"

"do what again? burnout?"

"what if i fuck up everything about my life again? my career? motherhood? jungkook and i’s relationship? it hurt so bad... to wake up next to my family and not feel anything. it was so fucking hard... i couldn’t even pretend that i was okay. a-and when i asked for some air... he wasn’t even mad at me. he packed his bags and lost his breath from crying so much. at the door, he asked me if i was sure... and even though i wasn’t; i said yes...." you explain, your voice growing quieter with each word.

suddenly, everything feels so heavy. 

if there was ever a time to understand and relate to the feeling of the world being on your shoulders... this would be that moment. taking a breath, you compose yourself.

"i can’t do that again," you vow. "i can’t change my mind."

"you can’t change your mind again or you can’t hurt like that again?"

you pause.

"9 months ago, my mind kept going back and forth whether or not jungkook cared about me," you confess. "but i recently realized he does. he has. he always will... i just don’t know if i can trust him the same as before... i think i’m a horrible person for thinking that. weird, right? especially with how fucking horrible i am to him now."

"that’s not true." your therapist disagrees. "___, it was traumatic. you went through a lot—"

"—and i will never understand how he held himself together. when he was accused of plagiarism at his company, i took those accusations and sued until jungkook’s name was spotless. it was hard on both of us. he didn’t want me to go that far because they were his coworkers—his ‘friends’—but why... why was he so pathetic then? those people were out to ruin him. they quit the company and went to jyp. they proposed work that belonged to jungkook... it was a conflict of interest! when jungkook launched his work with hybe, jyp accused him of plagiarism. hybe cut ties with him and his company gave him so much shit for losing hybe. and i, his girlfriend and mother of his child, risked my career to focus on his case instead of my clients. i chose him. i did everything to fight for him. then, he told me he wanted to settle and stay at the company... i couldn’t believe it... he had his reputation on the line—his career! mine was too and all for what? because he didn’t want to embarrass his friends? because he didn’t want to cause the company more trouble? then, what about me? what about us?"

your therapist looks at you with sincere eyes. she nods, taking your words in. 

"___, does he know you’re still upset with his decision?"

"yes," you sigh, recalling how betrayed you felt. "w-we don’t talk about it. how do we? it felt like i wasted 2 months of my life and we lost our—we lost."

your therapist reaches over and offers you the tissue box. you didn’t even realize you were crying... but the silence between you two and the ache from the words that you just said begins to sting your chest.

after a few moments, your therapist softly tells you, "___, i don’t think you left him because you didn’t love him... i think you left because, despite everything, you did. that hurt because it meant loving him and putting him before yourself... on top of that, you were at a state where you should have been put first."

you gulp.

she purses her lips and makes her hit.

"___, do you resent yourself for the loss?"

you clench your fist as your therapist rubs salt into your open wounds. "the self-neglect? the stress? the post-partum depression? the insomia—"

"i resent myself for the loss," you admit. "... and i resent jungkook for losing me."

when you arrive home, jungkook is in the kitchen cooking. 

you didn’t expect him to be home. he was supposed to be picking zion up at this time and you were looking forward to some alone time. clearly, you have a lot to think about. as you take off your shoes, jungkook turns his attention to you.

“hi honey,” he smiles brightly. 

truth be told, he had a long day. he was running late this morning and had rushed out the door. as he drove to work, he got annoyed with himself. 

he forgot to kiss you before he left. 

so you can imagine just how excited he is to see you now… especially with all he has planned for tonight. 

“we had a meeting today and it ended early. it went really well so i have some news! also, i picked zion up right after my meeting. took him out for a little father-and-son afternoon... then, i dropped him off at your parents—”

“why would you do that?” you snap, putting your things away.

jungkook chuckles. “uh, maybe because i wanna ask you something tonight…”

your body stiffens.

“but we’ll get to that later! do you want to eat first? i’m cooking your favorite—”

“please stop,” you shut your eyes and take a breath. “jungkook, i had a long day. i’m glad yours was good and you got to bond with zion. i appreciate the effort—i just don’t… i don’t like that you dropped zion off at my parents after picking him up early from daycare. why didn’t you just take him home? and thank you for cooking... but i had a late lunch today, so i’m not hungry.”

“is it so bad i want to spend time with you alone?” jungkook asks, his smile fading. 

jungkook isn’t stupid. 

he knows you’re not in the mood, but he can’t help but push your boundaries a little. besides, communication is always good, right? at least, that’s what he’s been told. 

“it’s okay if you don’t want to eat... as long as you ate today. what did you eat?” he attempts. 

you move past jungkook as he asks you the question. taking out your phone, you check for any missed messages. jungkook’s eyebrows furrow as you ignore him. he catches your waist and guides you against the kitchen counter. grabbing your phone from your hands, he puts it aside.

“woah,” he pouts. “what’s up? why are you acting like this?”

you look at jungkook and hate yourself. his eyes are so kind and full of love. 

you know it. 

you feel it. 

it hurts so bad.

“what’s with the mood?” he asks, more gently this time. 

jungkook moves his hands from your waist to wrap around you. he nuzzles himself into the crook of your neck and hugs you tightly. “if you’re mad at me about something, that’s okay... but be angry here. don’t ignore me. being angry together is better than not being together at all.”

his plea makes your eyes tear up.

this isn’t easy for you either, but to be honest... it’s now or never. tonight, your heart feels especially heavy. you can’t blame it. some people say time heals all wounds—perhaps, this is it. 

this is the time limit.

“can i tell you my news?” he asks, partly trying to stall the conversation and partly because it was good news. 

“sure.”

“i got a job offer,” jungkook says. “i’d have to do an informal interview but it’s basically mine if i want it. they’re setting up a branch in new york. they want me to go there for 3-6 months and help start everything up. guide and mentor the visual director there—”

“that’s amazing—”

“i don’t want it,” jungkook chuckles. “they told me to sleep on it and make my decision in a month. until then, they offered me a raise! isn’t that great?”

your smile drops. 

all of the feelings you’ve been trying to regulate since you stepped out of your therapist's office today feel like they’ve gone out the window. was he serious? he declined such a big step in his career—for a raise? 

“jungkook,” you croak. “do you know why we broke up?”

he pulls away. 

what a fucking switch up. he doesn’t understand. 

for a moment, he doesn’t know what to do with his hands. does he reach out to hold yours or keep them by his side? he’s caught off guard. he doesn’t know how to answer you and frankly, he fucking hates this question.

“uh, why are you asking me—”

“what was the other thing?” you ask, already suspecting it. “are you going to ask me to marry you tonight?” you blurt. 

he shoves his hand in his pocket. 

“jungkook, are you asking me to marry you tonight? yes or no?”

he blinks at you. 

his heart is prepared more than ever; “yes.”

“don’t.”

jungkook’s heart drops.

“don’t because you’re saying no or don’t because you want a better proposal?” he attempts to lighten the mood with a smile. he takes his hands out of his pocket and reaches for yours. you don’t let him take it. instead, you shake your head.

“don’t because you don’t even know why we’re broken up.”

instantly, the tension between you two increases. it’s through the roof, actually. it feels like one wrong word, one wrong move, one wrong recalled memory—everything crumbles.

everything fails.

everything faces the end.

“___, i can’t answer your question because i’m not prepared to. honestly, i wasn’t prepared for the break-up. it just happened. it grew into one. ___, you never said, ‘jungkook, it’s over. we’re broken up.’ ... no. you said, ‘jungkook... i can’t breathe anymore. i need air. i need space from us,’ — that’s what you said. but to hell with that, right? we’ve been sleeping together and it’s not like we hate each other. you love me. i know you do... so i really don’t understand why you won’t marry me despite knowing the simple truth—”

you move away from him.

god, it’s so hard to be next to him sometimes. 

heading to the cabinets, you take out a glass and pour yourself some water. drinking it, you hear jungkook sigh and groan in frustration.

“are we really going to fight tonight?” he asks, annoyed.

you shrug and put your water down. “shouldn’t we? it’s kind of overdue.”

jungkook scratches the back of his head. his lips tighten and his mind is already dizzy as he asks;

“___, why did you break up with me?”

a beat.

“i wanted more from you.”

he looks at you confused. “the fuck does that mean? sex?”

you shake your head.

“jungkook, i was moving up with my career. you were constantly annoyed that i was overworking myself and that i only cared about zion. you were always mad at me when i brought up work—especially about yours. you didn’t want more. you refused the promotions and all the different leadership roles. you refused more hours—you refused to grow… just like now.”

jungkook huffs. “is this about money again? we’ve never had issues providing for zion and this lifestyle.”

“again?” you chuckle. “honey, it wasn’t about the money. at least to me, it wasn’t. i love you and would have married you regardless of my career path and yours—”

“then why won’t you marry me? you always say you will but you say shit like this. you know it fucks me up, right? this isn’t fair. you can’t keep changing your mind.”

“it’s not that i don’t know what you are to me and what i want,” you take a deep breath. it feels painful to be right. “it’s that marrying you isn’t going to make any of this easier. at least, not right now.”

his eyes are filled with hope. 

hope that maybe the reason is childish and not what he knows it really is. he hopes it’s because he left one too many socks inches away from the laundry hamper in your bedroom. he hopes it’s because you got tired of him always queuing his karaoke songs in the car before yours. he hopes it’s because (not really) you actually took an interest in nam joon or something.

most of all, he hopes it’s not what he knows it is.

“jungkook, we were disagreeing on everything. you thought i was greedy for wanting more for myself—for our family—”

“so it’s about whether or not i accept the job offer? i still have a month to think about it. i can’t just leave you and zion. you get that, right? i don’t just leave.” jungkook scoffs in disbelief. “and you act like i didn’t just get promoted. i accepted it, didn’t i? i did so to impress you because i love you. i did it to win you back because i love you.”

“but why didn’t you do it for yourself?” you fuse. “why can’t you want more for yourself?”

“___, i love you—”

you hiss, taking a step away from him. “stop saying you love me when you—”

“when i what?” jungkook steadies his tone. “when i made a decision that you didn’t like? ___, i made a practical choice back then. what other option did i have?”

“you chose wrong,” you cry. “is that what you’ve been waiting for me to say? jungkook, you chose wrong because you were afraid! it wasn’t practical. it was safe. you took the settlement, forgave those friends, and looked stupid while doing it. meanwhile, i risked everything. i fucking fought for you! for what? jungkook, it ruined us.”

jungkook shifts, taking a step closer to you. he runs his hands through his hair and groans.

“___, they have a family too. they fucked up and they apologized. i didn’t go through with the lawsuit because regardless if they deserved it—their families didn’t. their children didn’t. for fucks sake, one of them has a daughter zion’s age—”

a sob escapes your lips. 

jungkook’s shoulders slump as he lowers his head. you lower yours too, feeling your tears roll down your cheeks.

“jungkook, i love you,” you weakly admit. “i swear to god, i have never loved anyone more in my life than i have ever loved you. you’re the kindest man i’ve ever met. you empathize with others and put them before your needs. you chased me around like a fucking dog for the last 9 months, completely disregarding any self-respect. truth be told, you gave me a purpose to live. you made me zion’s mom and the love of your life. in so many ways, i don’t deserve you… but i also don’t deserve this. it feels like even when i can't trust you—i still do. it ruins me, jungkook.”

angry, jungkook disagrees.

“what are you fucking talking about—no. don’t say shit like that.”

“you kept me together for so long that i don’t know how to fall apart if you’re not around. jungkook, i had to fall apart. i was so tired then. i was so unhappy and everything you did to hold me together only angered me. it lit this fire inside of me and i felt like i couldn’t touch anything or anyone… why couldn’t you just be sad with me?”

“you fell apart before i could even process what happened—” he recalls, tears threatening his eyes. “___, i was devastated beyond belief. i was sad too. i was afraid too. you don’t think i wanted to cry in bed all day with you? i had to get up. i had to take care of zion and i’m sorry if i held onto you tighter than i should have—but i had to. there was no other way i could’ve lived if i didn’t hold on to you like that. you’re my air. i love you, ___ and in case you didn’t know; it hurt me too. losing our—h-holy fuck. i love you. ___, i love you. please, i love you so much—”

you sob.

you don’t even try to hold yourself together. a heavy cry escapes your lips and jungkook instantly lifts his head and comes to you. he wraps you in his arms as you cry into them.

“i love you,” you whimper. “i don’t blame you for it—really, i don’t. b-but why did you stay? i worked so hard and you chose to stay. i stressed myself out and couldn’t sleep. i felt so betrayed and i wasn’t eating—”

“i know, i know,” he murmurs, holding back his sobs. “i hate myself for it. it was my fault—”

“don’t—”

you pull away and hit his chest. 

your eyes sting from all the crying and your throat feels dry. yet, every fiber inside of you feels like it’s on fire. it feels like you’re burning down the room and all jungkook wants to do is slow dance in it.

“jungkook, when you settled, it took something from us. something beautiful—our second—our time.” you slow your breathing to gather the courage to say it. 

to say everything. 

to say it all and maybe, save it all.

“honey, i d-destroyed and hurt more than you did... and i know you don’t blame me; but am i ever going to stop blaming m-myself?” you sob. “i’m pushed into t-this... corner where it’s all my fault—and it is, you know? if i hadn’t stressed myself over your case and just f-focused on making partner at the firm—if i had just i-ignored the f-feeling of the knife you twisted—it was supposed to be this time around.”

jungkook’s heart breaks.

“9 months...” you say, voice trembling.

“don’t say it like that,” jungkook begs. “my love, i didn’t forget.”

that’s just it.

he hasn’t forgotten either.

yet, his body doesn’t ache like yours does. as much as your heart wants to forgive and find beauty in this tragedy—your body hasn’t healed. all those months ago, when you focused on jungkook’s case and stressed yourself to the bone—you made a mistake. you neglected your health to prioritize everything but yourself.

your breath hitches as you recall everything. a part of you feels relieved to have said it all aloud, but inside, it feels like something has burnt up—like a part of you has died.

you reach for him, cupping his cheeks in your hands. jungkook’s tears spill over, and you gently wipe them away with your thumb.

his body collapses into yours. his sobs wrack his chest as he buries his face in your arms.

jungkook cries for the break-up.

for the hurt that’s grown between you two.

he blames himself even though deep down he knows it’s not his fault.

the ache in his chest feels unbearable. you tighten your hold on him, bracing yourself for what comes next, but before you can speak, your body gives in.

everything does dizzy and you hold your breath.

suddenly, your knees hit the floor, and you collapse in front of jungkook, the weight of it all too much to bear.

“i’m s-sorry,” you choke out. "i can't—fuck. i'm so heartbroken, jungkook. i can't—"

jungkook drops down beside you, pulling you into him. as you cling to each other, you feel his heart racing, his breath catching in his sobs, mirroring your own. he holds you tighter, as if he could take all your pain into himself. if he could, you know he would.

and somehow, in the midst of this overwhelming pain, you feel the strangest thing.

this has to be the most painful moment in your entire relationship, but it’s also the most healing.

after nine months of distance, you finally grieve together.

the grief overwhelms you two.

after what feels like an eternity, you manage to compose yourself, pulling away from his embrace. meanwhile, jungkook is still crying heavily. you reach up, cupping his face in your hands again, wiping the tears from his swollen eyes. he leans into your touch, his lips pressing softly against the palm of your hand, his breathing slowly calming down. but then, he moves closer, and you know what’s coming next.

jungkook tries to kiss you.

you push him away gently, your heart breaking all over again.

“... i think you should go home,” you whisper, your voice tired and cracked.

"___, please—"

"we fought enough tonight. i don't have anything left in me, jungkook... just go."

for a moment, silence hangs in the air, thick with everything left unsaid. there's still more. he swears it. he knows it because his heart races with so many more confessions. so many more things he has to tell you.

like the fact that when you cleared his name, he never felt so loved in his life.

like the fact that when you stressed yourself over him and got upset with his decision—he wanted to take everything back.

like the fact that when he let you cry in bed all day over the loss, he cried as he held and fed zion in the living room.

but now is not the time.

now, the hurt aches and he has to let it. he has to let you fall apart. he has to feel this too because if he doesn't—then he misses it all. he misses everything and he can't do that.

he needs to know.

he needs to learn.

he needs to love.

jungkook swallows hard, his voice barely a whisper. “okay… whatever you want.”

you both stand, your movements slow and heavy. you watch as he gathers his belongings, guilt and disappointment twisting in your stomach. at the door, he pauses, eyes closed as he takes a deep breath.

“what about me?”

his voice breaks the stillness. you feel your heart sink.

“what about you?” you ask softly, though you already know the answer.

“___, i don’t want to go,” he pleads, desperation creeping into his voice. “i… i can’t do this. not again.”

“what do you mean?” you force a weak smile. “this is our first break-up.”

“for real?”

you let out a sad laugh, though it holds no real humor.

“for now.”

jungkook takes a second to compose himself.

“i’m gonna pick up zion and have him sleep over at mine... and it’s okay if you’re still full… just eat a late dinner,” he murmurs softly, eyes cast downward. then, turning toward the door, he looks back one last time, his voice soft but filled with emotion.

“for the record, i thought i was home… but if air, space, and time is what you need, so be it. just know, i hope i’m it in the end. i hope i’m what you need.”

they say the 3-year itch is when the sand timer runs out. it takes two people to flip it over and restart the clock. at your 3-year itch with jungkook, suddenly your careers were where you two scratched.

then, the plagiarism accusations came along. as horrible as it was, you thought this was the perfect opportunity to show jungkook how much you love him. how much were you willing to do for him, and how much could your career benefit you two? at the peak of all this, you didn’t know it.

you were carrying more than just work.

at 5 weeks, 1 week after jungkook settled—time was up.

jungkook sits in his car, crying and staring at the ring that should be on your finger. he can’t help but feel all the sides of it. he shoves it back inside the box and opens the glove compartment. throwing it in, he continues to reflect. 

was he insensitive? was he so wrong about not wanting to take the job? the proposal was ill-timed, but was he crazy? weren’t you two doing better? … were you hurting all by yourself this entire time? of course, he hurt too. he was just grieving differently… does that make this his fault? he doesn’t know. he doesn’t care. in the end, losing something is still losing something. 

truth be told, it’s no one’s fault. 

yet, jungkook hits his steering wheel and continues to sob. he wants to blame something. he needs to. as he searches, his heart screams out;

time.