#and i hadn't missed a day of work the entire time she'd been there so she had never had to cover for me. or for the other two who remained.

[kayharrisons]

No grave can hold my body down, I'll crawl home to her [Bjorn x fem!reader] [2 of?] [18+]

Chapter summary: you eagerly await your boyfriend's arrival back in 12.

A/N: HI GUYS been a minute since I posted for this one ahaha, we're switching to Reader's pov for this one!!! I'll be going back and forth between their POVs, it's very fun for me >:3 MERRY CHRISTMAS AND A HAPPY NEW YEAR TO YOU ALL!!!

Chapter Warnings: PTSD, mentioned character death, Capital being Weird to minors, general Hunger Games themes

The train isn't late, but it certainly feels like it, as you stand on the platform waiting for your boyfriend to return home, to return to you.

You'd had faith in him this whole time, known he'd come back to you.

The only time you'd had even a little bit of doubt was when Navarro had died.

You'd been damn near catatonic as you watched her die right before your eyes. As you watched Bjorn have to watch his sister die in front of him.

You'd been afraid he was going to join her, for a little bit.

Losing Tyler and Kay last year had made him angry, bitter at the world outside of you and Navarro.

Losing her may just break him entirely.

The platform is mostly empty, people had wanted to stop by, to cheer Bjorn as their first proper winner. But missing work would result in lashings, and so it was you and a handful of peacekeepers.

Bjorn had no family left to greet him. His mother having died in a mining collapse earlier this year, and his father...

He'd been caught stealing supplies from the sickbay, for Bjorn who had been dreadfully sick one year. He'd been hanged for it.

Bjorn had been nine.

You can still remember the sight of Mr Henriksen's body swaying to and fro from the Hanging Tree, before your mother had pulled you away, before he'd been cut down.

It's not a sight you forget.

You shiver at the memory, rubbing your arms as you anxiously bounce on the balls of your feet.

It isn't long before the train arrives, before it squeaks to a halt. The Peacekeepers flank the door, security for the Victor inside.

Bjorn steps off of the train shortly after.

His hair is closely cropped at the sides of his head, his mop of hair trimmed neatly to just above his brows. He's clad in a dark coat with matching pants, Capital's finest wool by the looks of it, warm, cosy. His shoes are polished to perfection, gleaming in the dimming light.

His eyes are hollow, though, when you meet them. Hollow and full of agony, of grief, of longing for-

You crash into one another in an instant, the pair of you collapsing to your knees as sobs overtake you both.

\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/

His home in Victor's Village is barren, to be honest.

Bjorn hadn't had a lot of possessions beyond his clothes and the furniture in his and Navarro's home.

Her things have been left in a guest bedroom, untouched. You imagine it'll be that way for quite some time.

For now, though, you lock the door, you stoke the fire, and you sit beside Bjorn as he stares into the flames.

"Where's she buried?" he asks, voice hoarse, the first words he's spoken to you all day.

You suck in a breath, ducking your head down briefly. You'd been a wreck the day they'd delivered Navarro's coffin back to District 12, incoherent with tears as you tried to picture where Bjorn would want his sister to be laid to rest.

"Top of the hill," you answer quietly, fidgeting with a button on your dress. "She'll always get the sun up there and... it's close to your mom, I thought she'd like that."

Bjorn nods, throat bobbing hard as swallows. "She would." he agrees, gruff, just as quiet as you.

Silence, for a few minutes, save for the crackling of the fire.

"Bjorn-" you begin, ever so gently. He abruptly stands, shrugging off his thick coat.

"Need a drink." he grunts, moving from the living room and to the kitchen, door swinging shut in his wake. Your brow furrows, worry curling at your belly, clawing up your throat.

You don't follow after him. You know when he needs his space, can tell when he needs to be left alone.

So you leave him be, for now.

You'll give him today, let him cope how he needs to. You'll remain here, by his side, even if it's in separate rooms, just in case he turns to you for comfort.

You know him better than anyone. You know it won't be happening today.

He'll shut himself up in one of the many bedrooms of this house, will drink himself to sleep, will sob and scream through his grief and though it pains you, you will leave him be.

Tomorrow, though. Tomorrow you will open the door for him, will be there waiting with open arms.

Tomorrow, you hope, will be kinder to him.

[the-crafting-gremlin]

I love my coworkers so much. (For many reasons, including that they're all genuinely pretty good people, open and accepting, and funny.)

One of them and her husband are going to a metal concert this weekend, and it turns out that our manager is going with his oldest daughter because they're also fans of this band. The one coworker commented that she wonders what people must think when they hear about the different concerts she's gone to this year since its kind of a weird variety--an old folky-country singer who's mostly only popular with older people (in their mid 50's and up; she and her sister were the youngest there by quite a bit, in their late 20's and early 30's respectively), Taylor Swift, and now a metal band.

Another coworker piped up, "That's why I like you; your music tastes are eclectic. You're poly-jam-orous!"

I about died laughing, y'all. Her pun game is on point, as usual.

[tan1shere]

Mind Games

Billie Eilish x Female reader !

A/n: got a few ideas for this story and I'm so insanely proud of it, I just hope everyone else enjoys it <3

Warnings: SMUT HOES mdni. Ice play, pure filth, strap usage, sub/bratty reader, soft dom billie + a mommy kink 😁 lmk if I missed anything !!

Summary: Billie had been working all day for the past few days, you had been a bit bored and she was being a bit dry with you, causing you to get moody, just wanting some of her attention. You definitely got your wish in the end.

Masterlist

All day. All fucking day she had been in that room. You understand she was working, you got that. But even Finneas told her she didn't need to. Billie was always a hard worker but this had been going on for three days straight you missed her. You were starting to get sexually frustrated, considering you hadn't even had a slight kiss in days, you just wanted to be with her. You'd occasionally go in there to check on her, but she was always so dry with you. Which lead you to your new found behavior. And only then did she pry her eyes away from that stupid computer screen.

It was currently 9 pm at night, nearly 10. Your small figure glided through the small Crack of the door, shutting it quietly behind you. "Baby, come to bed." She waved you off. "Inna minute." Her voice was sharp but at the same time so incredibly dull. This set something off in you. "Orrr you could do it now." She didn't even respond, continuing to click away at the keyboard. You let out an annoyed breath. "You're annoying." You then say. Still, nothing. "My fucking God." You muttered quietly under your breath, but being so close in the silent room, she most definitely heard it. She didn't stop what she was doing though. Letting out a small chuckle. "No need to be like that." Your eyes only roll at that dumb statement. "Theres every need." Again shes not giving you any time of day. "Don't be a pest." Your brows furrow deeply at her words. "Me?! Pft, I'm not the one being dry." She lets out a deep sigh, it coming out a tiny bit raspy.

That just went straight to your core, but you couldn't let it. You needed to keep pestering her the way you were, in order to get any kind of message across. "You want attention?" There, she finally looks at you for what felt like forever. Her eyes had slight bags under them, making her eyes more provoking, you wanted to give yourself up then and there, but you resist. Playing that game. "Yeah, maybe I do? Cuz you're held up in here, when you don't even need to be." Her eyes dart back to the computer screen ignoring everything you had to say, making your frustrations even more visible. "Bitch." You mumbled, going to walk away.

"Sit." She demands sternly, her voice now carrying a slow, taunting tone in the way she spoke. Her hand grips your arm, tightly. Tingles, you silently swallow feelings that sane tingle go through your entire body. You reluctantly do as told, slowly going to sit on her lap. Her hand moves to your hip bone, having it rest there. But she doesn't keep her focus on you for very long. Back to that damn screen again. That irritation still deep within you, taking only one single flick to ignite. She knew what you wanted, but she still wasn't giving it to you. Why? You huff out, letting your focus go onto the door to the room, not even looking at her. "Why so bratty? All because you aren't getting your own way." It's your turn to stay silent. "Cat got your tongue?" Nada. A breath of disapproval leaves her plump lips. Her eyes occasionally look at you and your posture. Your figure. You always wore a black silk night dress to bed, she loved it. The way it'd fall on your body so beautifully. She could never ever resist you when you wore them.

Maybe that was how to get her attention all along. That, and the brattiness. "Alright. Where's my good girl at?" Silence from your end, you wanted to keep this charade up still. "Hm?" She'd continue when you wouldn't respond. Her finger dug into your hip, making you move around a bit, when you finally look at her. Her eyes were the same as her voice, taunting. Sending a shiver down your spine. Those fucking eyes. "Answer me." Again, nothing. "That's the game you wanna play huh?" Her attention was definitely on you now. For the right reason? Who knows. You wondered if you had fucked up, getting a bit nervous at the way she was acting. So nonchalant, her actions so aloof. She wrapped an arm around you, standing with your legs wrapped around her waist.

She strides over to your bedroom, it being dim. The only source of light was coming from your ensuite, that blood red color from the led's cascading into the room you two were in currently. Contrasting how filthy this moment was truly about to be. Your body fell onto the soft black duvet, the bottom of your night dress riding up in the process. She lets her eyes wander for only a second. Making her way over to the closet. "Billi-" But that was instantly cut short when you saw the mix of her HMHAS belt and chains dangling in her right hand. Uh oh. Was the only thing racing through your brain. You were truly in for it.

She comes over to you, her eyes remaining the same, lust filled libido ones from earlier. God this woman. You watch her left hand as it comes in contact with your chin, lifting up your face to look at her. "Do I even need to utter instructions?" She spoke lowly. Do you test it? Continue to be bratty? She wasn't going to go easy on you either way, so you decided it's probably best to behave for now. You give it a moment, putting both of your hands behind your back. She smirks slightly at how well you obeyed. She moves closer to you, looming over your body to tie the belt around your wrists. "Very good." She whispers near your ear. Your breath hitches, closing your eyes. Feeling the coolness of the metal, making your mouth let out a soft gasp. Feeling those same exact shivers all over, once again.

She stood back, observing the scene infront of her. Usually she'd do that and fuck you right then and there. But oh boy were you in for a rude awakening tonight. She leaves the room, making your brows knit together in such confusion, only for her to soon come back with a small glass of ice. Your eyes widen, drifting from the ice, to her face. It had turned evil. Sexy. You didn't want to admit how turned on it made you when she got like this, but it sure did. She drops to her knees, slowly going for the strings of your underwear, sliding them off your soft legs. Letting them pool around your ankles. Her fingers grip one cube, bringing it to your chest. Your body jolts at the cool feeling.

It being soothing in a strange way, as your body had became super hot. Due to the fact she was tormenting you, her eyes, her voice. Her hands. Your brain couldn't function properly. A small noise escapes your lips as the ice slides across your cleavage. Your eyes shutting in the process. She removes it shortly after, getting you to lean back ever so slightly. Her hands spread your legs apart, making the silky fabric slide up your body. Resting on the top of your thighs. Showing how absolutely wet you were for her. She lets out a low hum. Bringing that same chunk of ice to your inner thighs. Sending your eyes shut and mouth agape again. The cool wetness coating your thighs, having you feeling crazy. Loving exactly how it felt. She thought over her next move, gazing your pussy in anticipation. "Watch me turn your mind into my home." She rasps, still maintaining that lustful manner.

Your head lifts, to look at her as she says that. But you're immediately sent back into the state you were in before, as the ice comes in contact with you folds. A moan finally escapes you, she rests her head on her hand, watching everything unfold. You felt such ecstasy as she eventually slide it to your hole, her mouth opens. Mimicking your tiny gasp. She lets a slight chuckle out. "Cute." Your eyes yet again shut, tugging slightly on the restraints. "Bil-"

"Are you my good girl?"

You swallow. "Y-yes." She meets your eyes as they reopen, tilting her head in a way that made a tiny whimper emerge from your slightly swollen lips. Swollen from all the biting you were doing. "Then zip it." You start to frantically nod, earning a cheeky smirk from her end. "Good." She whispers, bringing the ice out again it melting heaps, but before it has completely she moves it up. Kissing your clit perfectly. The icy feeling making you whine out. Keeping silent with your words knowing what she had just said. You couldn't fight this. She thought. Once it's gone she grabs another one, the chill hits your thighs again. "Cold?" You just give a simple nod. "Hmmm. Good." Feeling the feeling you felt before as the ice cube enters your hole. Your back arches wanting more of this feeling. And more. A tiny tired smile is spread across your face, feeling blissed out.

"Think you're winning? With all your grinning?" No answer, only a shake of your head. "but baby. I got the last laugh." You choke on a moan as her fingers suddenly enter you, pushing the ice further in you. Feeling it melt slowly. Her pace was slow and torturing, watching your face contort in pure pleasure. "There she is." Billie draws out. Loving how she has you. Her fingers eventually pick up the pace, sending you into a fit of moans at the rough manner. You were getting there, so incredibly close. She felt it exactly. So ofcourse she pulls them out. "Billiee." You whine, falling back against the bed. She tuts as you speak. "Uh uh, remember what I said." More whines fill her ears, she fucking loved it. Soaking up every delicate sound you made. "Billi please I've been g-" A hand is met with your mouth. "Don't even think about finishing that sentence." Your eyes roll.

Letting out an annoyed groan, her eyebrow raises. To which you only let out a longer one. She removes her hand from your mouth, watching you continue to make that noise. "Touch me." You seem to demand. This makes billie laugh. A laugh you only heard whenever she found something really funny. But this was more vile... Evil... Vicious. You whimper at the jeering tone she was eliciting. "I'm sorry." You pout, regretting all your past decisions that led to this moment. "But I'm loving watching you think you're controlling me instead." The pout becomes more prominent on your lips. She gets close to your face. "Who made you like this?" Her fingers go between your sticky folds. Gathering the sweet necter on her digits. Eventually bringing it to your face. "Go on baby, tell me." Her voice sounded like how velvet felt.

"Y-you." You mumbled. "Sorry what was that mama?" Her fingers go to her mouth, sucking that previous liquid that was coating them. You gulp. "You billie.." Her eyes move to yours, her fingers still in her mouth. Another hum was heard. "Good girl." You breathe out as she says that, feeling your head fall back into the sheets once more. That same finger comes in contact with your face, gently moving over the skin of your cheek. Before she moves it to your lips, you instantly open them, sucking softly. Being on your best behavior now, desperately wanting that release that she neglected earlier on. "Very, very good. Aren't you?" There was a pause. "Only when you want to be, isn't that right?" You keep silent, the most silent you've been that night.

"Don't go quiet on my now angel." You swallow thickly. Her face was inches away from your own. "Isnt. That, right." "Y-yes mommy." A satisfied grin emerges on her features, loving how you called her that. "Such a good girl, huh? ... maybe I should let you cum." Your eyes lit up. She just laughs at your patheticness. Getting up to go get the strap, attaching it to her body. She unties your restraints, letting your arms free. But not for long. She was swift in moving them above your head with one of her hands, staring deep into your soul. "Mind games until you loose control." She breathed against your lips. Your lids flutter shut, squeezing your thighs together. Failing as her legs felt you doing that, using her knees to spread them again. "Once I'm in, there ain't no letting go." She continued, slowly bringing her hand over your face.

Leading down towards your neck, she tightened just a little, watching as your eyes widen. "So pretty.." She trails off, watching the way her hand fit perfectly around your throat. "Mmm." You shut your eyes, feeling the tip prodding at your entrance. A tiny moan surfaces, her hand still holding your wrists letting her other one run from your neck, to your breasts. Very, slowly. When without any warning she takes one big thrust, immediately bottoming out. Having your eyes roll back and your mouth ajar at the insane feeling. "So tight." Your breathing becomes ragged, her pace quickens as more moans come out of you, louder. Just how she liked. If anything you were driving her insane. Not the other way round.

And exactly like before that euphoric feeling crept up making your vision blur. "Please billie please-" You begged. She adored it, she had to let it sink in. The way your whiney voice cracked. "Go on then pretty girl. Cum for me, you deserve it for being sooo good, huh?" You frantically nod as her pace quickens. Her smirk returns as you take every bit of what she's giving you. The feeling comes round, feeling it come crashing down. Gushing out all over the fake dick. She hums truly satisfied at how fucked out you were right now, your breathing slowly coming back. When all of a sudden, she removes her hand from your wrists but only to turn you over. "B-but-" "you didn't think I was done with you, did you?"

A whimper gets let out, feeling the cock still in your sensitive hole, you felt shakey after that last orgasm, trembling as she slightly moves in you.

"Too much.." you breathe sluggishly, closing your eyes as your face smushes into the sheets.

"Mm, isn't it just." .. "might I remind you that you wanted this earlier, correct? Baby."

[reiderwriter]

She's a Silver Lining

Chapter Nine of I Can't Help Myself

Summary: Spencer comes to terms with your abduction.

Warnings: ANGST, Suicidal ideation, kidnapping, mentions of fetal abduction and murder of pregnant women, descriptions of abuse, descriptions of prenatal care, typical case details. Spencer is depressed.

A/N: I'm sorry this chapter is a day late, I literally saw God this weekend (I saw Taemin perform live), and really, all that's been on my mind is how God is Good (Taemin is hot), and so I haven't been able to write anything as depressing as this chapter. I hope you enjoy (?) it anyway~♡

Masterlist || tags are currently broken, I'm sorry ♡

Eight days. It had been eight days since Spencer had last seen you. Eight days since he'd screwed up his one job so massively that he'd lost you. 

He'd lost people before. He'd lost people on cases. Victims, unsubs, bystanders, and family members who didn't stand a chance at recovering from their own loss. He'd lost Maeve, which was a little too similar to his current circumstances to think about too hard. He'd been losing his mother since he was born, and he'd really lost her again a few months ago. He'd lost Gideon. He'd lost Elle, too, before that. He'd lost Emily, and though she'd come back too, it wasn't the same. He'd lost Morgan, and then Hotch. He'd lost Alex Blake.

He'd lost nearly everyone in his life. Some of them had come back, most of them hadn't. 

He'd thought himself immune to the pain of losing someone at last. 

He'd certainly lost enough of himself in prison. 

It may have only been 84 days, but whatever was left in him of hope before was gone. He'd emerged completely empty. 

He supposed that's why he'd accepted the role at the university. There was nothing left for him to give to the BAU, but he couldn't be the one to leave. 

As it was, he'd already been unsettled enough by leaving you behind when he'd finished up his time there. 

It felt weird to him, saying goodbye. Not that he'd actually said goodbye. He'd kissed your forehead as he slipped out of your bed, sure, but you'd been neither conscious, nor fond of him in anyway. It was a parting gesture just for him  and he hadn't been quite sure why he'd done it. 

It was just a gesture and one he'd repeated multiple times after getting you back. You didn't know, of course. How could you? 

He'd either woken up before you and kissed your forehead, or climbed into bed beside you late at night and greeted you then. 

You'd lain side by side, drifting to sleep slowly, when he realized it had become a daily habit. 

He hadn't any idea of what he'd do when you left. 

And now you had. And it was his fault. 

In the eight days since you'd been kidnapped, Spencer had come to terms with a few facts.

He knew 64,956 women were currently declared missing in the United States. He knew that 77% of adults reported missing were found in 24 hours. You weren't. He knew 4% were found in 48 hours. You weren't. Only 3% were usually missing still after a week. 

You were somehow in that small minority, even though there was an entire team of FBI agents working around the clock to find you. 

He'd had faith in his coworkers before. Before, he'd begged for their help, and they'd succeeded in 24 hours, even if the outcome wasn't preferable. 

This time, he didn't beg. He had no faith. He just hoped to be present with a gun, loaded with two bullets, if this time went the way of the last. 

On the eighth day after your abduction, Spencer finally returned home.

The damage from your abduction was still apparent. 

Not that your captor had left many clues. In fact, they'd left none. Not even a fingerprint or a good angle on the CCTV. But he hadn't taken returning to an empty apartment well.

He slashed through the crime scene tape quickly, letting in hang in the doorway as he entered. The bookshelves he'd attacked were limping, leaning on each other for support after he'd ripped books off so violently he'd set them askew. 

He'd kicked and ripped and punched the wall so hard he'd needed stitches that he'd absolutely refused to get. 

He'd cried and sobbed into his bloodied and bruised hands until Emily had arrived, and then he'd cried some more, leaning on his friend, his sister, for her support. 

Returning now, there wasn't a single tear left.

In the hospital, they'd addressed his flesh wounds, but the emotional ones would never hear. 

You were gone. And now there was only a 3% chance he'd ever see you again. 

Emily hadn't allowed him to stick around to make their jobs harder. She's placed him on house arrest - funnily enough, her house, where you should've been if he wasn't such a selfish ass - and assigned a watch. 

She’d said it was for protection, but what she'd meant was it was to protect him from himself.

The rest of the team had avoided the topic entirely. They didn't know how to deal with whatever stage of grief he was going through. Many of them had comforted him the first time. They didn't know how to do it a second. They didn't know if they could. 

After eight days, Spencer had left Emily’s apartment. He'd dodged the Agent she'd stationed alongside him, got into a taxi, and gone home. 

Surveying the damage, he was surprised how deep the hurt had already cut to not feel much anymore. 

He looked at the books splayed on the floor. It was a title that you'd been reading that week. One he remembered you using at the office, one that had been on both of your courses reading lists. He picked each of them up and put them back on the shelf. He righted each shelf and organised them neatly, how he thought you'd like them. 

He picked pillows up and rearranged them. He vacuumed the debris from the floor, the thin layer of dust that had gathered since he'd left, the splinters pf bookcase that had crumbled off, the shards of wall that were speckled with his blood. 

He wept the entire time, though silent, until there were no tears left to cry. 

Then he'd come across a tiny package underneath his coffee table, a single corner of plastic peaking out, begging for attention. 

He'd picked it up and wept again as he found depths of sadness to reach further down than what he'd assumed to be rock bottom. 

Aa he lay in a pool of his own despair, a new, haunting fact crashed from his brain to his heart. Since 1987, there had been 21 foetal abductions in the USA. 19 of them had ended in homicide, with the mother dying. 

You made 22. 

In the two months since you'd been abducted, you'd learned three things. 

The first was that you absolutely loved Spencer Reid. You'd spent enough time sitting introspectively about everything in your life to realize you had to stop being so stubborn and admit just that. You'd been about there before all of this, but now you knew for sure. 

You should be cursing the man that inspired your horror show of a life, after all. But instead, you thought about him and held back tears. 

She gave you updates these days, testing your reactions to his name, waiting to see you crack, to see you cry, and sob and break down completely. 

Today, Spencer had been to see his mother, she said. He'd broken down in her arms and caused her to have an episode. She'd hit him so hard, his face had already been bruised by the time she saw him. 

The second thing you knew was that your baby was going to be born healthy. You had no plans of having a home birth, but now, at seven months pregnant, and large enough that you almost thought about doing your conception math again, you knew you were on track for giving birth in the room you'd been in for the last 58 days. 

You hadn't counted. 

She’d been good enough to tell you the date, the day, and her plans every morning when she visited you. She checked your vitals, your blood pressure, the position of the baby, your temperature, your heart rate, and recorded everything in her chart. She asked you how the pregnancy was going, almost as if she was the nurse she'd been training to be. 

Her bedside manner was so good some days. You forgot entirely that you were tied down to the bed, ankle clamped down. 

She let you walk for an hour a day, but recommended bedrest after that for health reasons. You didn't complain or talk back because she didn't like that. 

She let you read, and she was even curious about your reading, asking you questions and taking notes as if this were just part of her regular college schedule, an office hour that had taken over her life. 

You shuddered sometimes as she stared up at you with those big eyes, so wide, and young, and naive, and full of hatred, and evil, and you wanted to claw them out and scream for help, and stab her with the pencil she wrote notes with, and stab, and stab, and stab, and-

The third thing you knew was that you'd never hold your baby in your arms because you'd be dead moments after they breathed their first breath.

You knew, because she had told you as much everyday since you'd woken up. 

In two months, Spencer had become more manic and self-destructive than he'd ever been in his entire life. 

His world centred around you, and finding you, even as his 3% slipped to 1%, slipped to 0.1%, and he knew deep inside that he'd never see you again. 

He hadn't returned to the BAU but had instead turned his home into an investigation room, emptying the walls so he could pin up information, evidence, pictures of you, everything he could find. It wasn't that he'd regained hope, but he'd grown so desperate that he suddenly gripped hard onto the only slither of it that he had left and refused to drop it. He was a dog that didn't know the game of fetch only conti he'd if he dropped the ball. His life would not go on without you.

So he searched. He knew how far along you were. He knew how far along a woman had to be for a c section, professionally performed or not. 

He barricaded himself into his house and paced for days as his friends pounded down his door. He let none in. He didn't go out. He wasn't sure what he ate, or drank, or if he slept, but he knew he paced, and he thought, and he came up with theories. 

After two months, Emily was tired of knocking. 

“Spencer Reid, I am coming in,” she shouted from behind the door. 

He usually ignored her. She couldn't pass the bookshelves he'd moved in front of the door anyway, even if his superintendent had given her a key. 

This time though, he heard a banging, a creak and a crash as the bookshelves went down and Emily, who had left him and returned, made her way inside his apartment. 

“You barricaded the door?” she said, looking at him. 

He took a shaky breath and tried to answer as she surveyed his apartment, the mess of papers, books, string on the wall. He saw her stare down at the pile of sheets on the floor where he'd been sleeping, the bag of your things he had dragged to be closer to him. 

He saw her look at the baby shoes, and baby grows he'd laid out neatly on the floor, and he saw the pitying look she turned on him. 

“She's pregnant,” he finally said out loud, though you must've been 7 months along by then. “I'm going to be a father.”

“Spencer,” Emily said, grasping his hand, voice cracking from the strain of emotion that coated her tongue, making her voice thick. “You would've been an amazing father.” 

“No. No-” he said, breaking away and moving back to his wall. “No past tense, I won't let you… I won't let you give up on them.” 

“It's been two months.” 

“So she's only seven months pregnant. I have two more months to find her, Emily. Two more. At least allow me that.” 

The tears in his eyes streamed freely now as she nodded. 

“We will…. you know we'll help you. We'll do everything we can, so come to the office.” 

He didn't want to give up his space. His reminders of you, the baby grows, the information he'd gathered.

Equally, he didn't like Emily being in this space. She thought you were already dead, and he couldn't even look her in the eye. 

Reluctantly, he nodded, lifting himself up on legs weakened by insurmountable grief, and he followed her to Quantico. 

By the end of your third trimester, you wondered how you could ever have gotten so big. When you gave birth, the child inside of you would only be the size of a small pumpkin. You felt like you'd swallowed five regular size pumpkins whole, and you felt you were still expanding. 

The point worried her. She'd broken two glasses in tantrums this last week alone, measuring you every day. 

The closer you got to birth, the more agitated she grew. 

“This demon inside of you is going to kill you. I won't even have to do it myself,” she'd whispered to herself, or to you, as she took your vitals that morning. 

“Please don't say that.” 

“Why not? You're a whore, and you're going to give birth to a devil. You have seduced my soul mate, because you are a jezebel and the Lord is punishing you.” 

You'd needed all the strength you could get for these conversations. Even one tear, and she'd erupt and put a knife at your neck. With only a few weeks left, there was no saying whether she'd speed her plan along. 

“I did not seduce your soul mate,” you said as calmly as you could muster, taking deep breaths, hoping that she would mirror them and calm down. 

“Do we have to watch the fucking video again?” she spat at you, stomping around to the side of your bed and pulling out her phone. She queued up the video quickly and you averted your eyes. 

She turned them back quickly, holding your head in place as she forced you to watch your own office space. She showed you the videos of you and Spencer talking, teasing each other. She showed you the video of you insisting you were not attractive to him. She showed you the video of Spencer fucking you on the sofa, though she screamed and cut her fingernails into her skin the entire way through. 

She even showed you the video of her attempting to seduce Spencer during their office hour. It was the first video in her collection, the first time she'd set up the camera. She used your entrance as proof that you were breaking her apart from her soul mate. From Spencer. 

You were a whore who had thrown herself at him in anyway you could, and you had trapped him with a baby. 

She was going to free him from all responsibility so he could be with her. 

“My baby will be your devil,” she said as the video ended, and you forced your heart to settle. 

“It is not your baby.”

“Spencer won't know that. He doesn't know it's your baby either, and who are the authorities going to believe when I show up with his child. One paternity test later, and I'll have him, and we can be a happy family together, and we can live happily. I'll take in your devil  and raise it as my own, and we'll forget about the whore who almost ruined it all.”

The psychosis was so clearly written on her face, you were surprised no one had caught onto her state yet. She was devolving. She'd been calm, and contemplative the first week. She'd laid out her plans still, her insane plans, and seemed somewhat coherent. 

Then she'd began rambling about the devil and soul mates, and you'd pitied her, even in your fear. 

Now you were just glad she counted your office tryst as your conception date, and you'd never corrected her. 

She still believed there was a month left until your death. You knew it was days. 

You just prayed your baby could buy you some time.

“Professor?” she said as she carried away the tray of items she'd checked your vitals with

“Yes.” 

“You are not in love with Spencer Reid,” she said, as if trying to convince you. 

“No,” you said, trying to convince yourself  though it was hopeless. “I am not in love with Spencer Reid.”

The first lead in the case came on your due date. Patient confidentiality was, happily, overlooked by a few doctors when he pressed the issue, needing to know until when he was counting down. 

He'd done the rough math himself, but he needed a professional opinion. 

The lead came in the form of an email. The university was cleaning out your office to make way for a new professor, despite his insistence that you'd return, and they needed him to collect things. 

And though he knew you'd be giving birth that day, and he had run out of time, something compelled him to go and do this menial task on today of all days. 

Luke had joined him, and then so had JJ and Emily, and Penelope and Tara. Rossi had even arrived to watch you pile books into boxes that were supposed to have lived on these shelves for a long career. Everyone in the room was so busy watching him, waiting for him to crack, that it had to be him to find it. 

At first, he thought it was a hole in the couch. It was so dark and black, its curved corners giving the illusion of introversion. Then he'd touched it and felt the rough bump. 

“Penelope, here, now,” he breathed out, gasping for air as he finally pulled the tiny spy camera free and thrust it into his friends hands. 

He had a lead. He had you now. 

The first hour of labour was inconvenient only because you weren't alone. She'd been tending to you all morning, fussing over your food, trying to maintain the right amount of prenatal vitamins as she usually did, but she'd ran out of two bottles, and the pharmacy wasn't open. 

You sat still and uncomfortable, trying to not even flinch as your water broke, too afraid of death to be thinking about the life you were bringing into this world. 

The second hour ticked by much the same until she left. 

The third came, and you ceased your screams of pain, even as your hands bore holes into your sheets. She returned, and you knew there wasn't much longer until she knew. 

By hour four, she had your legs spread and was watching you deliver your baby, and you knew the same blade that would sever your umbilical cord would also end your life. 

By hour five, you were so delirious with pain that you thought you saw Spencer. You heard his voice cooing to you as you pushed. You felt his hands wipe away your sweat, smooth the hair from your eyes. You heard his voice announce your daughters birth, and you felt his lips against your skin as you finally gave up fighting and drifted into oblivion. 

[ckret2]

Chapter 52 of human Bill Cipher being the Mystery Shack's prisoner: the Pines get their hands on a book that, they hope, might explain Bill's entire history.

And Ford, Dipper, and Mabel debate the ethics of executing a wanna-be tyrant who recently saved their lives.

"Hey, hey you with the inner eye! How'd your show go, inner eye?"

"Did you read anybody's mind?"

"Did you get next week's lottery numbers?"

"Yeah! Did you predict when anyone's gonna die?"

Brag one time about identifying somebody's cancer and nobody lets it go for years. As the triangle stuffed his bookbag in his locker, he tried to ignore the square and rectangle laughing at him down the hall. Every time he missed a few days of school so his parents could haul him to a speaking engagement several states away, he got this when he got back. They knew he couldn't read minds and they knew he couldn't tell the future. They didn't care; they just wanted to make him mad. If he tried to correct them, they'd just laugh at him for caring about what they said.

"How come your inner eye's on the outside, inner eye?"

"Yeah, shouldn't it be in your stomach?"

"Can you see the ghosts from in there?"

He slammed his locker and turned toward the square leading the harassment. "You know what, I did have a vision at the show," he shouted. "I saw who your real dad is! Hey, did you mom ever get that mutt fixed?"

He didn't need to tell the future to know he'd better run for it. He bolted for class.

He'd missed the last three days of school so he could wow the crowds by telling them what was in their pockets, while his parents talked about cleansing negative energy from their spirits or some junk like that; and he'd come back just in time for a history test he hadn't studied for.

He wasn't worried. He was sitting behind the smartest line in class. On test days, the teacher set up cardboard barriers between everybody's desks to prevent them from reading each other's tests, and he took it on faith that this worked on the other students; but for his own part, the barriers were so thin that sometimes he walked into them without noticing they were there. He just looked straight past them as if they didn't exist. He had a clear view of the smart line's test.

As he bolted for his classroom, he could see through the walls that the line was already in there, talking to the teacher. He slowed down his mad dash before reaching the doorway and came in at a stroll, just in time to hear her quietly say to the teacher, "Just for this test, can I switch seats? I don't want to sit by..." She trailed off when she caught the triangle coming in; she and the teacher both stared.

He stared back, irritation flaring up, and snapped defensively, "What?" What did she care if he copied her test? It didn't cost her anything and it didn't make her do any extra work. Wasn't it considerate to help a fellow classmate out? Why should she be selfish about her test?

The square and rectangle tumbled into the room, advanced on the triangle, saw the teacher watching, and shoved past him to get to their own seats. They glared at him as they passed, but didn't say anything. Yeah, that's right, look who got the final word in.

To the line, the teacher quietly said, "Don't worry about it, just get ready for the test." She raised her voice. "All right, settle down, everyone at your desks. Put your notes away. This is a long test, so we're starting immediately." Several students grumbled in dismay.

The triangle couldn't be more delighted. The teacher didn't believe in psychic abilities—to his benefit, since so far it had let him get away with copying other students with impunity—but she also didn't like him. He'd been sure that she'd agree to let the smart line switch seats to get away with him. But apparently she'd rather dismiss the class pet than admit that maybe it was possible for him to psychically cheat. He smugly headed for his desk, ready for the easiest test of the class.

The teacher put a hand on his arm before he could pass her. "Not you," she said. "Get your stuff from your desk, you'll be taking the test at the front of the class. At my desk."

"What!" He whirled to stare at her indignantly. "Why?!" (The rest of the class fell silent. He could feel a dozen eyes on his base.)

"Because, your last few test scores have been... unusual. I want to keep my eye on you—"

"Unusual how! My grades have been great! You should be thrilled I'm keeping up with my absences!"

"Your test grades haven't been consistent with your classroom performance," she said tersely.

The other students started to titter. His sides flushed in humiliation.

His classroom performance was abysmal. He never finished his homework (he rarely started his homework), he never had an answer when he was called on in class and usually substituted with something sarcastic that'd at least make the other kids laugh, he never did the readings, and he wasn't even sure which town he'd lost his history textbook in. Studying was boring! He had better things to do! He was a busy guy! (And why bother, when he wasn't any good at it anyway.)

"What, you think I'm too stupid to make A's?!" He planted his fists on his corners. "If I'm cheating, how!" She had the privacy walls between students on test days, she'd searched his desk twice, and during the last test she'd passed behind him like a dozen times as he filled out the answers. Sarcastically, he asked, "Am I psychically reading the other students' minds? Maybe looking at their tests through the walls with my laser vision?"

The class giggled again, but at least this time it was with him. Everyone in the school knew about his family's traveling show and the performances he put on. And everyone in class knew that the teacher thought his family's shows were scams and that he was a fraud, and she'd made that clear from the first week. The other kids believed in his abilities. He'd been in class with most of them since they started school, and his default reaction to being called a liar about his abilities had always been to do something to prove them wrong—and he'd kept doing that even after he realized that telling kids what they were hiding in their bags only creeped them out. 

But it didn't matter if all the kids believed. As long as the teacher didn't, he could get away with anything—and everyone else in class knew he was making a fool of her.

She narrowed her eye. "That's enough. Just get your pen and come to the front."

"This is stupid! You can't prove I've done anything wrong!"

"I'm not going to fight with you."

"You just hate my family, you don't have any proof I—"

"Get. Your. Pen. Or you'll be taking your test in the office."

He shot her a dark look; but stormed to his desk, snatched up his pen, and returned to the front. Times like this, he really did wish he had laser vision. He could, just, grow a laser gun out of his eye, shoot her in half...

As he passed the teacher, he muttered under his breath, "I'm telling my mom," but apparently not quietly enough, because the square who'd been bothering him all morning announced, "Hey, he's gonna tell his mommy!" and half the class laughed.

"Behave," the teacher snapped; then said tiredly to the triangle, "You can tell anybody you want, just—take your test."

Sure, she said that now. She didn't know what his mom was like when she thought her golden child was being mistreated. He'd go home whining and moaning about how unfair his teacher was, and tomorrow morning his mom would be in the front office ripping into the principal over the terrible teacher slandering and humiliating her perfect little triangle. And she was shrill. The whole hallway would hear it. Wielding his mom was a double-edged sword (or maybe double-edged whip would be a more apt metaphor): the other kids would make fun of him for weeks; but he'd definitely get what he wanted. Either his teacher would shape up, or he'd get a new teacher.

Assuming he did convince his mom he was being mistreated. His confidence waned as he waited at the teacher's desk for her to finish passing tests out to the rest of the students. What if calling in his mom backfired? What if his teacher graded his test tonight? What if his mom got there in the morning and the teacher could show her that he'd gotten almost perfect grades on his other tests, but flunked the one where he'd been forced to sit at the teacher's desk? The teacher didn't believe he could see through walls, but his mom sure did—and he wasn't sure whether she'd care that he'd cheated, but she'd sure care if they could prove that he'd cheated and make her look bad. But now that he'd said he'd tell his mom, he'd look like an even bigger loser if he didn't...

The teacher set his test on her desk last. He filled out his name and stared miserably at the first question. Who was the first triangular president. How was he supposed to know? There'd been like, seven. It was a multiple choice question; he looked at the options to see if any names sounded old-timey, concluded they all sounded old-timey, and sighed in frustration. Now what? He'd heard a kid say once that if you didn't know what to guess, you should always guess C. Would he get enough right answers to pass...?

He let his all-seeing gaze drift past the test to snoop through the teacher's desk—sheets of stickers he'd never earn, eye drops, coupons to a movie theater, spicy novel... and then stopped in wonder. She'd left the answer key to the test inside her desk. Every answer, right there. This would be the easiest test he'd ever taken!

As the teacher watched in increasing frustration, he cheerfully highlighted answer after answer, pausing between each question to read a couple paragraphs from the novel in her desk to make it look like he was actually thinking.

The line at the top of the class and a couple other kids had turned in their tests by the time the triangle had finished his performance. With a flourish, he turned and presented his test to the teacher still standing behind him. "Well?" He gave her his most innocent look. "So how'd I do?" He'd almost asked her, so how'd I do it?

She glowered at him, seething; but simply took his paper and snapped, "Go back to your desk."

"Whatever you say!" Cheerfully, he sauntered back to his desk. As he passed Miss Perfect Grades, he said quietly—but not so quietly the other nearby kids couldn't hear—"You got question 7 wrong, idiot." She groaned.

Nobody would get the best of him. He was making it through this class with flying colors. Maybe the teacher was right, maybe he was stupid—but he certainly wasn't a loser.

####

As soon as he'd dressed, Dipper ran downstairs to get the phone book in Soos's office and call the library. This was it. He was rested, his schedule was free, and he was ready to read. Today, he was buckling down and reading Flatworld. He was gonna crack Bill's secret history wide open—and on top of that he'd get a leg up on a year of math, and he'd learn something big about Bill before Mabel.

Which he felt guilty for being excited about; but he figured it wasn't wrong to want to be the better twin at paranormal investigation, right? That was his whole thing. Anyway, Mabel might be grateful for it—she'd seemed annoyed at the prospect of reading a hundred year old book on math; maybe he could summarize the important parts for her, it was just like when he'd help her study for big tests...

The librarian on the phone said, "Flatworld by Edward Bishop Bishop? Sorry, our only copy is checked out."

There went Dipper's plans for the day. "When's it due back?"

"In twenty days. Do you want to put it on hold?"

"Yeah, thanks."

Dipper hung up. The Gravity Falls Library let you check out a book for twenty-one days; so somebody had grabbed Flatworld yesterday. Who else would want it?

####

Absolutely aghast, Mabel cried, "They banned colors?!"

Bill and Abuelita, sitting at the kitchen table having breakfast, stared at her. Mabel was standing in the doorway, still in her pajamas, hair unbrushed, bags under her eyes, distraught. Bill said, "What?"

"On Flatworld!" Mabel dragged her hands down her face in distress. "They made colors ILLEGAL?! It's ILLEGAL to have COLORS?! That's as bad as—as—I can't actually think of anything as bad as banning colors!"

Bill gave her a surprised look. "Oh, you're reading Flatworld!"

"Bill, you've been through so much!" Mabel grabbed his shoulders. "What a traumatic childhood!"

"Mabel."

"No wonder you turned evil, I'd be evil if I grew up without coloring books—"

"Mabel. Kid."

"What!"

"Colors weren't illegal," Bill said.

Mabel paused. "They weren't?"

"They weren't. I was even born gold. I drew my house, remember? You saw the rose bushes?"

"Oh." Mabel thought about that. She planted her hands on her hips. "Then I take it back, you've got no excuse for being evil!"

"I'm devastated."

"What is Flatworld?" Abuelita asked politely.

"Book inspired by my home world," Bill muttered. "Loosely."

Abuelita nodded, puzzled. "¿Pero tú no eras del infierno?"

Bill laughed. "¡Puede ser!"

Mabel asked, "So if colors weren't banned, why did the book say they were?"

"Ahh, Eddie was a writer." Bill shrugged and turned back to his breakfast. "He took some creative liberties to make the story more exciting. He wasn't writing a history textbook."

"Which parts are true?"

Bill gave her a sly sideways glance. "Which parts pardon me from being evil?"

Mabel blew a raspberry.

In the entryway, Dipper said, "Mabel? You checked out Flatworld?"

She jogged over to him. "Yes! Augh, Dipper, you've gotta read it after me! There's some crazy bonkers stuff in here!"

"Yeah," Dipper said, mildly deflated, "sure. When did you pick it up?"

"Yesterday! I biked to the library after Bill fell asleep. I had to find out what it said. Did you realize we don't know anything about where Bill came from? I don't even know if he had dirt."

Bill had avoided looking at Mabel as she talked to Dipper, focused on eating, mouth set in a flat line; but without glancing over, he said dismissively, "Sure, of course we had dirt. It was cheap to import."

Mabel turned back to Dipper, her eyes bugging out. "He had to import dirt. I didn't know that!" 

"Okay, I get the picture."

"Here!" She dragged Dipper into the living room.

Bill looked at Abuelita. "Ask how cheap it was to import dirt."

"No."

"It was dirt cheap. Ha!"

Abuelita shook her head.

Mabel picked up the book from the end table by the sofa bed. Out of range of the kitchen, she whispered, "All that talk about the Axolotl and prophecies just kept bugging me until I read the book. I stayed up half the night! I thought maybe it'd help us remember more of the poem."

"Did it work?"

"Not yet. But I think I feel something percolating in my brain! It's coming, I know it." She pushed the book into Dipper's hands. "We've gotta talk as soon as you read it."

It was a much smaller book than Dipper had anticipated; a cover about the size of a paperback novel, but it was only as thick as one of those easy chapter books for new readers that Dipper had started devouring in second grade. Even if the text was dense, it shouldn't take more than a couple of hours to read.

"By the way, who put me back in my bed?" Mabel asked.

"Oh. Bill d—" The hairs on the back of Dipper's arms stood on end as he realized something he'd been too tired to notice last night. "Bill did."

"Aww, that's sweet of him," Mabel said.

"But Mabel," Dipper hissed. "I don't know how he got through the bedroom door."

####

Ford shut his journal and turned his desk chair to face the children. This was serious enough to warrant his full attention. "You're sure you didn't prop the door open last night?"

"Positive," Dipper said. "We talked about it. We decided it would be safer if Bill was stuck in one spot and had to ask to leave."

"The doorknob's been busted since the tooth fairy broke in," Mabel said. "Maybe Bill just pushed it open?"

Ford said, "Under the terms of the curse, he shouldn't even be able to do that much. It's supposed to magically prevent him from remembering or imagining any way to get through a door." Still, he made a mental note to ask Soos to repair the door as soon as possible. They ought to at least remove the possibility that Bill might have found a loophole.

"Could the curse be wearing off?" Dipper asked. "Maybe you just need to do it again?"

"This isn't a curse that should wear off. It was originally designed to keep hidden treasures guarded for a thousand years—and as far as I know, the only way to remove it is for the person who placed it to lift it," Ford said. "If Bill's getting through doors, either he knows a way to break the spell that he never told me, or he's found a way around the spell. Both mean bad news. For all we know, he might already be able to get through any door and is just pretending he can't."

Dipper thought back to the pitiful performance he'd seen in the bathroom. "I... don't think he's faking." Unless that wasjust a big act? Bill flung himself down staircases and stuck forks in his arms for fun; what was stopping him from writing on the walls in his own blood?

"Well, he can get through at least one door." Ford got to his feet and began pacing up and down the length of his study. "On top of that, by now he's revealed he can see through walls, see the future, see in the dark, and see who knows what else in other dimensions... He's trying to befriend Wendy, he's already befriended—" he cast a guilty look at Mabel, "... one of us, and I suspect he's getting into Stan's head... He has a standing weekly appointment to network with the mayor, the sheriff, and the deputy... He could be up to almost anything by now. I'm afraid he's right on the verge of slipping through our fingers. If only we could get that blasted fuel! We need to destroy him before he finds a way to escape for good—"

"Wait," Mabel said. That alone was enough to make Ford flinch. "Didn't he just save you guys' lives yesterday?"

Dipper winced, but Ford didn't seem surprised that Mabel knew; he just averted his gaze and sighed. "I know. And I'm..." he wrestled with his words until he reluctantly conceded, "grateful that he did. But even so—"

"Grunkle Ford! How can you still hate him after that?!"

Ford pressed his lips together to avoid saying pretty easily. "It's not about hatred, Mabel. It's an issue of the greater good."

"The gr—pbbbt!" Mabel blew a raspberry and flung her arms in the air. "Come on!"

Dipper said, "Grunkle Ford's right. Even if Bill isn't just trying to manipulate us somehow... if he had a chance, he'd still take over the world."

"Exactly," Ford said. "Two lives isn't a sufficient down payment to let him purchase the rest of our reality. We must put the safety of the universe first, and... put our consciences second."

Mabel looked between them in disbelief. "It's not a down payment, it's—it's progress. It means he's changing for the better! Guys, you don't know what the world he came from is like!" She pointed at the book Dipper was carrying. "Of course he's evil after how he grew up! Maybe he just needs some people to be nice to him and he'll learn to be nice back!"

"He grew up more than a trillion years ago," Ford said. "That's over seventy times longer than our entire universe has existed. He's had plenty of chances to outgrow his upbringing. I'm sure somebody's been kind to him in that time." He'd been kind to Bill.

"Then why is he being nicer now? First he was nice to me, now he's been nice to you two—if he keeps getting nicer to more and more people..."

Ford shook his head. "He could be nice to the whole world and it wouldn't mean he's any different."

"How do you know?!"

"How often does he talk to you about his plans for Weirdmageddon?"

Mabel fell silent, thinking uncomfortably about all the times he'd freely told her what boring animals he planned to upgrade once he'd conquered the world, or which fun places he wanted to destroy with his alien friends, or which laws of physics and spacetime he planned to change. She thought about all the times he'd expressed his gratitude by swearing to shed blood or rearrange stars on her behalf.

"He doesn't see befriending his future victims as a conflict of interests. So why wouldn't he start Weirdmageddon again?" Ford asked. "He doesn't feel remorse over a single thing he's done."

Mabel thought about Bill offering to put back the stolen ring at the mall.

Dipper thought about Mabel's Fault.

But did that really prove he felt remorse?

"But—doesn't he ever get a chance?" Mabel's voice was thick. "How do you know if he'll be selfish next time if you don't let him try? He can do better, I know it! He just needs a chance to prove it!" She looked pleadingly at Ford, then at Dipper. "What if he could be good this time? What if he could help?"

Dipper had to avert his gaze. "If we were talking about shoplifting or vandalism, yeah, but... if we give him a chance and he lets us down, it's the end of the world. We can't risk that."

Ford knew Bill would be just as selfish this time, because Ford knew Bill. Because Ford had heard, throughout the multiverse, on world after exploited world, just how selfish Bill had been for billions and billions of years. Because as far as Bill was concerned, he didn't have any reason to change outside of the fear of death—and fear never made anybody better. But Ford said, "His second chance is whatever he can do between now and whenever we find or make a fuel that will let us destroy him. But once we can..."

Mabel's face scrunched up as she fought not to cry. She squeezed her eyes shut, crossed her arms, and lowered her head.

"Mabel..." Dipper reached for her shoulder.

She shook him off and shook her head; but she said, voice muffled by the collar of her sweater, "I know. You're right. He's too dangerous." She sniffled.

"I'm sorry," Ford said.

"It—it's fine." She wiped her eyes and turned away. "I'm gonna get breakfast."

"Mabel, wait," Ford said. "You... know not to mention any of this conversation to Bill, right? Even if you want to help him, it might just make him pretend to be better long enough to fool us—or escape entirely, if he's found a way how yet..."

She turned to give him a teary-eyed frown; but she said, "I won't. I promise." She got into the elevator to head upstairs.

Ford sighed and sank back down into his chair. Should he have done more to keep her from Bill? Used his summer guardian privileges to ban her from talking to him, and dealt with the relationship fallout? What he and Stan really should have done was just send the kids home. He'd thought this would all be over weeks before now.

He didn't think Mabel would betray them for Bill. He hoped not.

But this was going to break her heart.

"Grunkle Ford?" Dipper said. "About the fuel we need to power the Quantum Destabilizer..."

Ford sighed. "The impossible-to-synthesize paradox fuel?"

"Actually... I think I have an idea."

####

In order to generate NowUSeeitNowUDontium, Fiddleford had said, they needed a paradox: someone to simultaneously both observe but not think about and think about but not observe the miniature particle accelerator as the experiment was run. Fiddleford had tried to cheat by using a pair of twins, hoping they'd be similar enough that they could still generate Dontium, albeit at a much slower rate; but to no avail. Which left them at a road block. How could one person both observe and not observe and think about and not think about the experiment at the same time?

Dipper thought he might have found away.

Bill had made a comment last night that stuck with Dipper, about how his body stared at nothing while he was outside it. (He'd called him "stupid looking." That was the real reason it had stuck with Dipper.) Would that meet the criteria of the paradox? A body that was looking at the experiment, but not thinking; and then if his soul was thinking about it but not looking...

Ford thought it was worth a shot. He could call Fiddleford and propose it. "As long as you're sure you want to try?" he asked Dipper. "You only just figured out you've been slipping out of your body—and too long a separation without anything occupying your body might kill you. And who knows if there's more risks we don't know about yet?" Ford put a hand on Dipper's shoulder. "We can still look for other possibilities first. You don't need to be a hero."

Dipper scowled. All he could think of was Bill capturing Ford, laughing at him as he turned him into a statue, burning up his journals in front of Dipper's eyes: Don't be a hero, kid. This is what happens to heroes in my world!

"I'm going to do it," Dipper said. "And we should do it now. Before I lose my nerve."

Ford frowned. "I'm serious, Dipper. If you're afraid—"

"I didn't mean that," Dipper said. "I mean—about Bill. He did just..."

"Ah," Ford said. "Yes. There's that."

It had been easier to treat the issue like it was black and white when Mabel was in the room—when she saw it all in black and they needed to balance out her perspective with white. But when she was gone, and the muddled shades of gray crept in like fog?

Dipper could still see Bill gloating as he kidnapped his great uncle and burned the journals; but at the same time, he could also see Bill angrily muttering under his breath as he delicately reeled in Dipper's body by a thread, and then rushing to the cliff's edge to drag Ford to safety. Safety of the universe aside—it felt wrong to plot to kill the guy who'd just saved them.

After an uncomfortable silence, Ford said, "But it doesn't change anything else he's done."

"Yeah," Dipper said, "it doesn't change anything." All the same, his stomach twisted with guilt. He wondered if Ford's did too.

Ford sighed heavily. "I'll call Fiddleford."

####

Fiddleford was wary about trying a new strategy, although for different reasons: he didn't want to change their method to create Dontium before he'd spent several days calculating how the new variables would affect the experiment. But desperate times... He agreed they needed to do whatever they could before Bill found a way to escape.

Dipper went upstairs to grab his backpack. He didn't even unpack all his camping equipment; he just shoved in his journal and Flatworld, and headed back downstairs.

Meanwhile, Ford tracked down Soos in between tour groups to ask him to fix the kids' door.

To Ford's surprise, Soos looked uncomfortable at the request. "Dude, are you sure that's... y'know... necessary?"

"Even if Bill weren't a threat, it would need to be fixed sooner or later, wouldn't it? I can help when we get home if it will take too much of your time." Or maybe Stan could help, he didn't seem too busy; last Ford had seen, he was hunting through the house for a missing remote control.

"It's not that." Soos fiddled with his hands uncertainly. "It's just, I know Mabel and Bill have been getting along really well lately, and I think that's probably a good sign for Bill; and I thought, if Bill can use their door, maybe Mabel would like it if Bill can visit her a little easier?"

Ford stared at Soos, bewildered. He'd expected this out of Mabel, but Soos? "And I think Dipper would like it if he couldn't."

"True," Soos conceded.

"Not to mention ensuring he can't sneak in during the night, or snoop when they aren't home..."

"Okay, okay. You're right." Soos sighed. "I'll fix it after work."

"Thank you."

A tourist family came in, and Soos went to greet them; Ford watched him a moment. Where had that come from? Soos rarely interacted with Bill; if anything, Bill seemed to steer away from Soos, and certainly never had anything kind to say to him when they did interact.

Maybe the pet geodite had won him over. Ford shook his head and returned to the living room.

Dipper was waiting on the couch, adjusting the straps of his overstuffed backpack. Ford glanced in on Mabel having breakfast by herself in the kitchen, picking at a waffle, lost in thought; but they left without saying anything to her.

####

(Took two weeks to get the next few chapters cleaned up, but finally here it is! Hope y'all enjoyed—and we'll be hearing a lot more about what's in that book next week.)

[bananayuyu]

all tied up {part 1}

Pairing: Yunho x f reader

Genre: angst, eventual smut

Word count: 10.5k

Summary: You never thought you'd have such an awful rivalry with a coworker. How is he so mean, so petty, so under your skin...?

Warnings: smut, MDNI, mentions of reader wanting to die and past traumas, dub con/non con, reader is physically bound against her will, mean yunho, nipple play, fingering, unprotected penetration, after care of sorts (all the smut happens in part 2)

A/n: Well I had the goal of making this maybe 2k words initially, and now it's 22.4k so I decided to split it into two parts (please read the warnings and don't read this if you aren't in the right headspace <3)

Read part 2 here

Read it on ao3

"Morning."

Your coworker's tone is cold as ice, as if he swallowed the winter air on his way to the building and was now spitting it at you. 

"Hi," you grunt, not bothering to look up from your desk. 

It was a biting, harsh morning, and the headache you were nursing wasn't doing any favors to your mood. Only minutes into your work day you already felt bleary, your legs still shivering from the short walk between the subway station and the twenty-story building your office rested in. In the mornings you woke it from its slumber; the lights in the lobby blinking on, even the heater rumbling awake as you walked through the door, as if it took a break from its job all night, too. It certainly felt that frosty in here, especially at 7am sharp, when you stumbled in before everyone else. You preferred this early shift and were thankful to be walking out the door so early each day, early enough that even in the dead of winter the sun hadn't yet set. The early mornings never bothered you; the solitude was tender and warm with you, even if the air was cruel on these freezing winter mornings. 

The intrusion of your steely coworker was unwelcome, to say the least.

"Why are you here so early?" you ask, a sharp edge to your tone. You're bitter that you won't have your usual hour to yourself, especially given the meeting you are set to have with your boss in just a few hours. You'd needed this time to mentally prepare, and here he was ruining your plans, yet again.

"I figured I'd come in early to get work done before our little meeting with the boss," he replies, a slow sigh leaving his lips and betraying just how tense he is. Well, at least it wasn't just you. You had been dreading this morning since last Friday, when the two of you had your worst argument yet, prompting your boss to demand a meeting with you both. You had no idea what would happen; you'd never had your boss demand a scheduled meeting with you in the six years you'd worked here. Things were different now, now that you worked as a grant writer and not at the front desk, but still it was concerning. He always just met with people spontaneously, and the scheduled bi-weekly meetings for the entire administrative staff were the time where conflicts and confusion were dealt with. He'd never called just two people into his office like this; then again, no one at your company had ever butted heads like you two, so badly that it left the whole office simmering with frustration, everyone dreading the sour expression that permanently settled on your features by the end of each day. You were so different now, so changed from the calm and happy woman they all knew.

You stood to make your way to the kitchen, passing by his desk as you went to turn on the kettle, boiling water for your first tea of the day. This morning called for multiple cups, your throat scratchy and dry from nerves, your body depleted from your lack of sleep. You'd stayed up far too late with your best friend last night, rambling about the meeting, begging her to help you come up with an excuse to stay home. She'd laughed with you, throwing out a few random ideas, but she knew as well as you did that you'd be here today. As much as you dreaded it, you would only miss this meeting if you were on your literal death bed, your job meaning too much to you to lose it.

From this angle he had a perfect view of you, your face scrunched up in concentration as you set the kettle to temperature, placing other employee's dirty dishes from the sink into the dishwasher. You were too obsessed with organization, in a way that made him irrationally angry, but he couldn't stop watching you every day, watching the way you adhered so severely to your little routines, watching the way his interruptions cast your face in worry and made you snap at him. Today, like every Monday, you wore your favorite shoes, the black platform Mary Janes. Up your legs stretched your thigh-high wool socks, also black, held up by a ruffled stretch of gray lace at the top. Over your hips lay a gray tartan skirt, reaching almost down to your socks, leaving an inch of bare thigh exposed in a way he thought wasn't really work appropriate. And then there was your black turtleneck, tight and accentuating your obviously braless chest, the curves and shapes of your body not hidden in the slightest. He was watching you intently, waiting for you to finally notice, and boy was he not disappointed when you finally did.

"You've hid my mug, haven't you," you spit, slamming the dishwasher harder than you needed to. You hadn't seen it in the cabinet, so you'd gingerly searched through the dishwasher too, desperately hoping someone else hadn't used it the previous week and neglected to wash it. Not finding it in there was a relief in some ways, but immediately you knew who was at fault for its disappearance, and his dark chuckle in response to you confirmed your suspicions ten fold. "You're such a dick," you grumble under your breath, reaching for any other random mug in the cabinet, needing something to house the tea you desperately need.

"What was that?" he asks, his tone mocking you, knowing exactly the sentiment of what you'd said even if he hadn't heard you clearly. You sigh and roll your eyes, ripping open your tea bag and plopping it in the mug, gently pouring the steaming liquid over it. "You just love to blame me for everything, don't you, even if you have no proof." His voice is low, dark, and it makes a shiver run through you even as the steam of the water warms your face. "You're cruel y/n, so cruel." His tone of voice makes you feel trapped, even all these feet away, and you just freeze for a bit, your tea steeping a bit longer than it should have. A creak of the building snaps you out of it, and you fling the tea bag into the trash, gently blowing over the mug and taking a tiny sip, testing the temperature.

Finally you turn, catching a glimpse of him. Jeong Yunho, the newest addition to your little office, hired about six months ago now, you realized. The date hit you in the gut this morning; the year had flown by, especially the last half, and in days it would no longer be this year anymore, no longer be the ending of an adventure but rather the start, when you'd have to plan again, think again. His suit today is stone gray, the color only barely darker than his wool overcoat, his tie a dark navy that really just looked black. His shoes were dark navy too; which you only knew because of the difference in the toe box from his other black shoes, the ones he normally wore. It must be a special day, he must be heading to something important after work. Some sort of meeting? No, that wouldn't really make sense, you all didn't work in a field where meetings were held outside of work hours, in restaurants or bars. Unless the meeting was about getting out of here, finding another placement. Maybe a date? Who'd want to date such an asshole, though?

He was rich and good-looking. Even you could recognize that. And boy did it irk you, that he looked so good in his suits, that he wasn't too masculine or too feminine, that his nose sloped in just the perfect way, that his smile was soft and bright and so endearing. You hadn't met many people in your life who were so captivating at first glance, and sure, when he'd first started here a part of you hoped something might happen between the two of you. You'd eat lunch at each other's desks, excitedly discussing your newest grants or talking about your favorite shows, which of course, were the same. It was a blissful few weeks, a beautiful honeymoon of sorts. Of course it couldn't last forever; you landed your dream job, everything you'd been working towards finally coming true last year, a new perfect apartment with your best friend being the cherry on top. Of course this year a man appeared and tried to ruin everything.

The two of you work in silence until 7:45, when everyone else starts arriving for the day, led of course by Dr. Acharya, the supervising psychotherapist. Next is Tally, who gives you a short wave as she heads to reception, her horn-rimmed glasses peeking over the window to blow you a kiss when she finds the mug of tea you'd made waiting for her. Soon many others scramble in together; Marnie, Amir, Rua, and Keisha, each making their way to their individual offices to ready themselves for their first clients. Soon Jongho, in charge of billing and accounting, walks in too, sitting down at his desk next to Yunho. And finally Eliana stumbles in just before eight, her giant coffee in hand, her eyes slightly dark with panic like they always are as she rushes into her office. Your boss, Mr. Kangsoo, won't be in for another hour at least and the day lurches forward as the first clients of the day are brought back for their counseling sessions, the office breaking into a low hum that will stay with you until you leave.

Your digitizing task today is boring but necessary, and that headache isn't leaving you, even with the tea warming your throat and your favorite piano concerto comforting you through the morning. You always loved Rachmaninov in the winter. But even so, your mood was sour, too sour. Yunho and Jongho's comfortable chatter was making your blood boil, making it hard for you to focus on your stupid, tedious task. In a huff you stand, heading straight for the reception office, papers in hand.

"Hi hi," Tally greets you as you open her door, gently closing it behind you.

"Dude, I'm dreading this meeting," you say immediately, sighing.

"Why? I'm sure nothing bad will come of it, Mr. Kangsoo loves you," she says, canceling an appointment on her screen and typing out a note.

"I know, I'm just already pissy today, not exactly the best mood to be bringing to the boss's office," you chuckle, setting your papers on the corner of her desk. "I kept neglecting digitizing this pile and now I can't stop obsessing over it. And Yunho came in early today, and hid my fucking mug. Again."

"Did you see this?" she asks, grabbing a sticky note from the corner of her computer and holding it out to you.

Can you please let the pretty one know she's never driving me from this job, no matter how hard she tries?

"God he's such an ass," you whisper, making Tally giggle. "Thank god for you girl, I don't know what I'd do without you here."

"You're 100% sure it's Yunho?" she asks, eyeing you.

"Who else would it be?" you reply, rolling your eyes, making her laugh again. 

"Well, I guess now 'the pretty one' has been told," she giggles, rolling her eyes too as she crumples up the note and tosses it in the trash.

"Like I said, he's an ass," you reply, not as quietly this time. A parent obviously waiting for their child snaps their head up, looking in your direction. They're maybe twenty feet away, and the window between the lobby and the reception desk is small, so you doubt they really heard you. But you balk in embarrassment anyway, silencing yourself.

"I should get back to my desk, I guess," you say, sighing as you pick up your stack of papers once again.

"Just ignore him," Tally says, smiling kindly.

"I'll try," you sigh, earning a disapproving look from Tally. "I will, I promise. You're right, I know, I should just ignore him," you answer, looking over to see the back of his head, his large hands crossed over each other and resting there on his jet black hair.  Fuck him, you can't help but think. Everything had been going so well, and you'd never been someone who got into drama at work, ever. It was a point of pride for you for a long time, a huge reason why your boss gave you the position he did and trusted you to be a part of his team. Now it had all been ruined, by this fucking asshole, in his perfectly tailored suits.

The day dragged on, your mind spinning with anxiety. It wouldn't leave you until that dreaded meeting, you knew that, so you busied yourself with scanning and organizing the files, not bothering to try to get any writing done. There was no way you would, not in this state.

Finally your boss arrived, his heavy footsteps sending waves of dread through you, your stomach a fluttering mess. You hadn't been able to eat this morning, which was very unlike you; you could feel how weak you were from the lack of sustenance, the adrenaline making you shakier than it normally did. You stumbled on wobbly legs towards his office once he called for you, Yunho's presence dark and foreboding behind you, and you swore you heard him whisper 'behave yourself' as the two of you passed into the office. Your blood was boiling as you sat down, the two chairs facing the front of your boss's desk, your face a permanent scowl as you stared Yunho down, watching him settle himself down in the chair and spread his legs farther than he needed to, looking all too comfortable.

"Ok, to start, this is not to scare you, or fire you," your boss begins, already zeroing in on the dynamic between you; the cool and collected look of Yunho, and the angry, stricken look of you, your eyes deep with worry when you meet your boss's gaze. "You both know me, I don't really do this sort of thing. I don't need to control you all, to be a good leader." He sighs deeply, looking almost as pained as you do, like he's mulled this over for too long himself. "I just can't let this go on any longer. The conflict between you two is affecting everyone, and it's clearly affecting your own work, too. I can see it in the quality of your writing. You are both very smart, very good grant writers, and even so you've been doing a good job, but I know you both can do better. And this fighting, it really needs to stop." He sighs deeply again, shaking his head subtly, like his subconscious is trying to rid itself of the stress you two have caused him. It makes so many feelings bloom in your guts, but the overwhelming one is guilt, the feeling so entirely consuming that you have the urge to jump to the floor now and start babbling out apologies. But you stop yourself, stop the tears from coming, and taking a deep breath you regain some composure. You know your boss, and you know his cadence, so you know he has more to say.

"So, we're figuring this out today. I don't care what it takes, we're settling this. So tell me, why do you two fight so much?" His eyes sweep back and forth, eyeing each of you for any sign, any subtle movement that could give him some idea of what was going on. He had his own theories, but he really couldn't be sure, and due to his laid back nature with his staff, he hadn't been monitoring you two enough to really know. With a sigh he leans back in his chair, letting the silence hang in the room until one of you is willing to break it.

"Sir, I don't think she's liked me from the moment I started here," Yunho finally speaks up, leaning forward in his chair and setting his elbows on his knees, the casual and confident gesture making your skin crawl. "I think she's been trying to make me miserable, so I'll leave-"

"That is not tru-"

"I think she feels some sort of ownership here, cause she's worked here so much longer than m-"

"That is absolutely not true!" you cry, your shot nerves leaving you unable to control your volume. "I would never try to run someone out of the office that way, that's completely unprofessional! He's the one who started all of this, he's the one who leaves nasty notes for me and hides my things and puts me down constantly in every admin meeting, trying to make me look like an idiot in front of everyone! If we're really gonna go there, I think he feels intimidated by my experience here, by the fact that I have a clearly established relationship with everyone, that you and all the therapists like me, and that even though he has more experience than me I'm still writing better grants!"

"Y/n, please keep yo-" your boss starts.

"I'm sorry, sir, but he left a note for me on Tally's computer this morning! How unprofessional is that! Now he's dragging her into our drama too, which I promise you I've never done! I-"

"Oh sure, you've never complained about me to anyone in the office," Yunho juts in, rolling his eyes. "It's not like everyone here sides with you on everything, always. If it weren't for Jongho I think you would have made everyone in this office hate me by now."

"Everyone loves you here, what do you mean?" you shoot back, your eyebrows furrowed in frustration. "I never talk about you to any of them, not even Tally. Because I know it would be wrong. Maybe everyone sides with me on certain issues because I'm right, have you ever considered that?! And by the way, Tally thinks poorly of you because of her own observations, because she doesn't like the things you say to me. So that has everything to do with you and your shitty behavior-" you cut yourself off, slapping a hand over your mouth. Because as comfortable as you are with your boss, you never, ever curse in front of him. It's an unspoken rule in the office, and one you'd never struggled to follow before. Shame washes over you like a wave of boiling water, making your whole body begin to shake.

"I'm so sorry, sir," you bow your head to him, your eyes closed as you fight to keep yourself from bursting into tears.

"She's obviously quite emotionally unstable, sir," Yunho pipes up from beside you, and of all the things he's said recently it's definitely the most hurtful. Your head shoots up, a single tear racing down your cheek despite your attempts to keep it at bay, and you just stare at him, your face betraying everything you're feeling.

"There's no need for that sort of insult right now, Yunho," your boss scolds him. "I need you two to resolve this, not fight even more. So tell me about this note, what did it say? Why did you leave a note for y/n on Tally's desk?"

"I'm sorry sir, I understand," Yunho responds, his perfectly respectful tone and gestures looking so put on. "And honestly sir, I have no idea what y/n is talking about. I didn't leave any notes for anyone this morning."

"Oh, so you're going to lie right to our boss's face?" you ask him, your volume lower but your anger still evident. "Do I need to go grab Tally? Seriously?"

"Did this note have my name on it anywhere?" he chuckles, fixing you with a strong gaze. And if you aren't mistaken, there's some sort of twinkle in his eye, almost like he's enjoying this. Is it seeing you suffer, seeing the anger and sadness in your eyes that makes him feel joy? Or maybe it's just messing with you in front of your boss, forcing you to over-explain yourself to the point of looking hysterical. Whatever it is it makes you uneasy, your stomach feeling like it might fall out of your ass at any moment.

"Sir, it said, 'Can you please let the pretty one know she's never driving me from this job, no matter how hard she tries?" you say, exasperated. "He just said he thinks I've been trying to drive him out. It was obviously him who left that note." You turn your body to face your boss again, not wanting to catch even a glimpse of Yunho anymore, your eyes pleading with Mr. Kangsoo to believe you.

"Sir, I did not write that. I would never say something so inappropriate about a coworker," Yunho adds, and though you don't see it, he's staring right at you. Your boss sighs heavily, your eyes fixed to the way he's staring at Yunho, the lines in his forehead deep with frustration. He looks like he's about to start speaking but then stops himself, another deep breath moving through his lungs, before running his hands through his hair and leaning back in his chair again.

"God, I wish you two would just sleep with each other already and get it out of your systems," he groans under his breath, but you hear it loud and clear, your whole body on high alert.

"What?!" you snap, your response involuntary. You had respected this man for years, admired the way he ran this office with calm confidence and respect for everyone, and you couldn't believe something so inappropriate had just come out of his mouth.

"Y/n, I'm sorry, I don't mean to be gross. I just can't help but wonder if part of the issue between the two of you is, well, the obvious attraction," Mr. Kangsoo responds, sighing deeply. "I do sincerely apologize if I'm reading things incorrectly, or if that last comment made you uncomfortable. I don't in any way want to encourage my employees to sleep with each other, obviously, and that just slipped out of my mouth. It was inappropriate, I know. I just feel like I'm at my wit's end with you two, and I feel desperate to find some sort of solution. Because you both are incredible employees and I don't want to have to get rid of either of you."

"I'm so sorry sir, that this whole situation with us two has caused you stress, but I can assure you there's no attraction here. Only dislike," you reply, letting out a shaky breath.

"No attraction at all, sir," Yunho adds, making you feel disgusted at actually agreeing with him for once.

"Then why the constant arguing?" your boss asks.

"Like I said sir, he's been tormenting me-"

"She clearly has something against me sir, and I don't know what I could do to change tha-"

"You don't know what you could do?? Maybe stop being so mean to me!" you cry out again.

"Y/n, keep your voice down, this is my last warning," your boss cuts in, his face stern. "You know I see you as almost a daughter to me, you started working here when you were what, 17? And now you've finished your degree, made so many strides in the last few years. I'm proud of you and everything you've accomplished, but I'm struggling to feel proud right now, with how you've been acting recently in the office. It isn't like you. I know Yunho is at fault for this too, and I want you to know I've already talked to him about his comments made during our admin meetings. What he said a few weeks ago, insinuating that you didn't understand the "actual point" of your role in this company because you have less experience than him, was uncalled for. So was his comment earlier. But I see too that you are quick to jump on everything he says, to assume that everything he does has ill intent towards you, and I don't think that that's fair either. I know you're more mature than this," he finishes, his eyes soft as he looks at you.

"I don't think I am, sir," you squeak out, your voice breaking as more tears well in your eyes.

"Y/n, I won't have this. I need you to approach this like you've approached everything else in your life, with the goal of actually understanding it. Don't give up on this now," he says, his voice stern but encouraging in that special way only he can be.

"Sir, how am I supposed to feel watching you accept her hysterics?" Yunho asks, his face tense with annoyance.

"God, you're cruel," you whisper, curling into a ball on your chair, not caring that you're wearing a short skirt and you probably shouldn't be holding your legs this way.

"Yunho, you're getting on my last fucking nerve today," your boss snaps, and both of you have wide eyes of shock, Mr. Kangsoo not one to curse in the office, either. "This entire conversation went worse than I expected, and your uncalled for comments show me that maybe you're not as mature as I originally thought you were. You came in with great references, son, and you clearly are very smart, but you must realize you're up against someone who's been working for me for six years, and who has proven time and time again to be basically the perfect employee. This conflict is a blip on the radar for her, but for you it's been happening almost the entire time I've known you. I want to believe the best in you, but you must understand how this looks from my perspective."

You both just sit frozen, like two kids in time-out, your faces different versions of disappointment. Your eyes are slightly red from crying, and your knees are still pulled up to your chin, your arms squeezing so tightly around them that it hurts.

"I've had it with this conversation, I don't think this is going to work. Which I should have known, it's clear that conversation between the two of you always leads to conflict," your boss continues. "I'm sending you both home, right now, and I'm demanding that you figure out this thing between you, or I'm firing you both. You have a week. Do not return to this office until the two of you have sorted out your issues, and can promise me you will not fight ever again going forward," he states, his arms crossed over his chest.

You both gawk at him, your faces looking almost identical, as you try to take in what he's just told you.

"Sir, I-" Yunho starts, but even he's stumbling over his words with just how shocked he is. "I don't think this is fair, sir. You should- you can't force us to make up, that isn't going to happen. This- we- we'll both be fired by next week," he stumbles out, his collected demeanor finally shattering.

"With all due respect, son, this is my company. I can do what I want. And this is what I feel is best. So both of you go, now, I won't hear another word. Out," he demands, standing and nodding towards his door.

You rise without a word, your body shaking dramatically from the heaps of adrenaline still coursing through you. Silently you grab your coat and scarf, packing up your bag and slinging it over your shoulder, walking to the kitchen to grab your lunch out of the fridge. You make your way towards the front door, stopping briefly at reception to look at Tally, her curly hair hanging down as she furiously types away at a document. Finally she looks up and sees your face, her own twisting into concern and confusion.

"What happened?" she whispers.

"I- I don't know," you respond, shaking your head. "Ask boss about it, I'm sure he'll tell you," you sigh, wiping another tear from your eyes. "I can't stay, I have to go," you squeak, giving her a quick hug, before turning and walking towards the front door again, nearly bumping into Yunho. You don't give him the courtesy of an apology, instead storming past him, walking angrily towards the elevator.

And of course you take the elevator down together, the silence awkward and tense and indescribable. You know he'll probably be walking down to the subway station with you, and it doesn't even surprise you when he gets on the same line as you, heading the same direction. But when he gets off at the same exact stop and you feel him walking up the stairs behind you, you can't just accept it any longer.

"Are you fucking following me?" you spit over your shoulder, your eyes dark with anger.

"No, y/n, I live up this way," he retorts, pointing ahead of you two in the exact direction of your neighborhood.

"God, don't tell me we're neighbors," you groan, trudging down the street, the remnants of last week's snow still stuck in the gutters.

"You live in Arbol Village?" he asks, almost sounding impressed.

"On Maple street," you sigh, with a nod.

"Me too," he chuckles, shaking his head in disbelief.

"This isn't funny, you fucking psychopath," you retort, angry that he's still here in your proximity, and angrier that there's only one path up into your neighborhood from this side, and the hill that leads up is making you out of breath in a way that's nothing but embarrassing.

"And you say I'm the mean one," he responds, smiling as he shakes his head.

"I really don't get how you can be so blasé about this," you huff out, your footsteps heavy as you nearly crest the hill and enter your neighborhood.

"Workplaces are shit, this is how it goes. If I have to find another job, I will. But don't think I won't go down without a fight. Mr. Kangsoo is by far the best boss I've ever worked for, so I'm going to do whatever I can to keep my position," he says, his breathing annoyingly stable even after walking the entirety of the hill. Slowly you two start into the neighborhood, but suddenly he's turning down a path towards the second house on Maple Street, the large dark one with an almost Victorian structure. 

"Of course the fancy one is your house," you sigh, seeing the ornate curtains covering only part of the front window.

"Come in, we need to talk more," Yunho says, beckoning you with his hands, but you can't be bothered. 

"Fuck no, are you crazy?" you respond, already stomping down the sidewalk past his house, not bothering to look back. The last thing you could bear is his presence right now, and for some reason you feel like you're not totally in control of yourself anyway, your legs moving so firmly they'd probably still be going even if you protested. Yunho just sighs, himself drained from the meeting you'd just left, and not having the energy to fight more. Later today, or tomorrow morning, he promised himself, he'd call you and start sorting this out for good. But for now he just watched you grow smaller and smaller, your hair blowing gently behind you in the winter breeze, your legs looking weak.

Once you were home, two and a half blocks from your asshole of a coworker, you collapsed on your bed, passing out in moments. In the late afternoon you woke to the sound of the front door slamming shut, your roommate, Yunji, calling, "shit, sorry! The wind is crazy out there!"

"You're good!" you called back, but your voice made it apparent to her that it was one of those days where you needed to be left alone, so she didn't come into your room. You picked yourself up and stripped off your work clothes, finally freeing your thighs of the tight elastics that held up your socks, two red rings now visible on your skin. Automatically you brushed your teeth, grabbing your comfiest hoodie and sweatpants, and passed out in your bed again, not even eating dinner, not checking your phone. The sun had already begun to set, the sky outside rearing for another stormy night, and your body was lulled to sleep within minutes, your head buried deep into your pillows as you pulled your comforter over your head.

You woke in what felt like minutes, your room eerily quiet. The light looked bright outside, very bright; it was disorienting, both the quiet and the light, and you lifted yourself up, squinting around in search of your phone. You'd forgotten to plug it in last night, so it surely would be almost dead. You found it still in your work bag, hanging on for dear life with the battery at five percent. The time astonished you, 9am, and you gawked at yourself. No wonder you felt so disoriented; you'd been sleeping for nearly sixteen hours.

And as you finally sorted through your notifications, your shock over the time left your brain entirely. Because the shock of having a missed call from Yunho, having two missed calls from him, floored you, literally. You sank down to the ground, furiously clicking to see the times. One was last night, at about 7pm, and the other was this morning about an hour ago. This morning he'd left a voicemail too, presumably right after you hadn't answered. With shaky hands you clicked on it, holding the phone tight to your ear so you wouldn't miss a word.

"Y/n, I know you don't like talking to me, but we really should try to sort this out earlier rather than later. Please call me back as soon as you get this."

Well, fuck.

He sounded disappointed, and frustrated, and perturbed to even be leaving the message. But god was that voice convincing, even to you, the way he worded things so eloquently and politely, like he's genuinely a good and thoughtful person. It hit you hard while listening that maybe your anger wasn't justified, maybe you'd been unfair to him like your boss had said. The sneaking feeling had graced you many times over your months of conflict, but now it felt too strong to ignore. Did he really want to sort this out? It sounded like it. Why, why, why was this so damn confusing for you?

Your mind raced as your stomach growled, as you tried to get ahold of yourself. Still sprawled out on your carpet you felt exhausted, your body somehow still feeling pulled towards sleep despite the hoards of it you'd just been allotted. You peeled yourself up, standing carefully, moving towards your window to get a view of the backyard. Looking at the garden always calmed you, even in the winter when most of the flowers were gone. And as you opened your blinds you realized why things seemed so bright this morning, and why you were barely hearing a sound.

A thick blanket of snow covered everything, flakes still falling gently from the sky which was dotted with clouds. The sun shone through a gap in them, reflected bright off the entirely white ground. You breathed out a sigh of relief, knowing that everyone had been forced to stay home today, so your missing work wasn't really a disruption to the office. Whoever was miffed about having to take your early shift wouldn't have to, after all. It was like the world was granting you a favor, as you often felt that she did, and you were so thankful. Because this, too, was a great excuse to avoid Yunho longer. There was no way you could leave the house with so much snow outside; it wasn't safe. You breathed in a sigh of relief, shaking it out as you finally connected your phone to charge, slipping on some thick socks and gliding your way out to the kitchen.

After breakfast you popped back into your room, shooting off a quick text.

Y/n: I just saw the snow, I don't think I can come over. Let's see tomorrow.

Almost immediately a call comes through from him, but you let it ring out. There was no way you were going to waste this beautiful snow day talking to him, and you had a whole week to resolve this anyway. It gnawed at you, in the back of your mind somewhere, but presently you just couldn't find it in yourself to voluntarily speak to him.

Yunho: We can still talk on the phone. And we really should. Y/n: We should take a break from talking and cool off. For today.

That was how you were justifying it to yourself. You needed a break, deserved a break from him. You wouldn't be able to really resolve anything if you were still pissed, and with the shock of the morning's weather and your body's obvious need for even more rest, you just couldn't take it today. Plus, everyone else was getting a day off, why couldn't you?

Yunho: I disagree

You flip your phone over, setting it on your bedside table, and you walk away. You'd had it with him arguing with you over text too, and the idea of curling up on the couch with Yunji, sipping hot cocoa and watching your favorite movies, sounded too enticing. You were not going to think about him anymore today. It was decided.

And surprisingly you were mostly able to keep your promise to yourself, the day passing in all its wintery glory, your favorite tradition with your roommate leaving you just as content as it always did. With a gentle sigh you both finally stood up, moving to the kitchen to wash the dishes you'd made all day, finally putting away the snacks you'd covered the coffee table with. As you both walked past the window in the hall you stopped short, eyes fixed on the scene unfolding before you.

"Holy shit," Yunji said, grabbing onto your arm. You both were used to the snow here, having grown up in the next town over. But this snow, that now seemed to be three feet deep, was something you hadn't seen since the one glorious winter more than a decade ago. You were eight that year, and the day after Christmas it snowed furiously, continuing all the way until New Year's Day when the ground was so covered that everywhere you looked outside all you saw was white.

You hadn't realized it was snowing all day, that the sky had turned dark in the early afternoon with all of the cloud cover. You were both too engrossed in your fun to notice.

"Well, I guess we're not going back to work for another few days," she laughed, sighing at how lovely it looked.

"Thank god," you replied, sighing in relief.

"Has Yunho been giving you trouble again?" she asked, and you turned to her with a downturned smile.

"When is he not," you sighed, laughing.

"Hey, how did your meeting go, yesterday?" she asked.

"Fucking terrible," you reply, a frustrated hand running through your hair.

"What happened?"

"Boss said that if the two of us can't resolve our differences, he's letting us both go," you answer, sighing harshly.

"Oh my god, that's crazy! How could he do that to you??" she replied, eyes wide.

"Girl, I know. I don't even know how it got to this point."

She moved to hug you, knowing just how much this situation had weighed on you, and just how much your job meant. She'd seen it in your eyes, even if you hadn't always told her exactly what was going on. She knew how sensitive you were, and she couldn't believe your boss would say such a thing. Especially given the years of dedication you'd given to that office, that you so genuinely cared about.

"What are you gonna do?" she asks, pulling back. 

"Well I guess, try to resolve it. I don't know how, though, every time we talk he just pisses me off and we fight. He's not reasonable about anything. He's always joking, nothing is ever totally serious. I saw him stutter for the first time yesterday, when Mr. Kangsoo gave us that ultimatum, but earlier in the meeting he was way too casual about everything. He was calling me hysterical and unstable, and, just, how the fuck does my boss think I'm going to solve this? That man is fucking impossible," you say, shaking your head.

"He sounds like a sociopath," she replies. "If I ever see him I will wring his neck, I swear to god."

"Well, you might. He lives in this neighborhood." Yunji's eyes go wide at your comment, her mouth hanging open. "Yeah, I know. He lives on our street, too, you know the fancy looking house that's second in from the road? Like if you're walking from the station this direction, the second house on the right? Yeah, that's his. I found out yesterday when I was walking home."

"How the fuck does a single guy in his twenties afford that?" she asks, baffled.

"He clearly has family money, he must. I'm sure he's made decent money for the past few years, but not enough to afford that. And all of his stuff, his suits and his briefcase and everything, looks expensive. And it's not like, shit that just looks expensive or name brand stuff. It's subtler than that, it just seems like everything he owns is so high quality."

"Fucking rich boys. I guess it isn't surprising, given how he's behaved. Like he's always gotten his way and never been told no."

"It really seems like it. Everyone always loves him, it's so annoying," you roll your eyes, thinking of every other staff member's reaction to meeting their shiny new coworker, and his easy demeanor, always saying what people want to hear. Except to you, it seemed.

"Well you can't really meet up and talk right now," Yunji says.

"No, but he said we should talk on the phone. I missed two calls from him, and he left me a message. But I can't bear to speak with him on the phone. I don't ever talk to my coworkers outside of work, no matter how close we are," you reply, shaking your head. "It just feels weird. I don't know what I'm gonna do, but I'm ignoring him for the rest of today."

"Understandable," she responds, squeezing your arm for a moment. "I should try to get some work done on my thesis, I guess, but you rest this evening. You deserve it."

As you both retire to your rooms, you sigh into your pillow. Despite the lazy day, despite the sixteen hours of sleep last night, you still feel tired. It must be mental, it's the only explanation at this point. And you know that means you should probably avoid your phone. But you reflexively check it; the anticipation brewing in your head isn't letting up.

You find two more missed calls from Yunho, and another text.

Yunho: How are we going to solve this if you keep ignoring me?

You suppose it makes you feel a little bad, a little guilty. Still, you can't be bothered to respond. You don't know why; you can't explain it. That feeling like you're not totally in control of your actions, like someone else is calling the shots, is back, and it really doesn't feel like something you can fight, or should fight. There's an eeriness about it, but it's so far in the back of your mind that you don't give it a second thought. After turning over your phone you climb into your covers, the light barely there outside as the evening approaches, the sky still covered in dark clouds and the snow still falling.

And just like that, two days pass. The snow has stayed heavy, making it unsafe to leave, the whole city quiet as few feel brave enough to venture outside. A desperate run to the grocery store calls a few, but thankfully you and Yunji have plenty of food in the pantry to last you a few days. She's taken the opportunity to really focus on her work, and you thought maybe you should, too. You never worked on grants at home, but you could bet Yunho was also taking advantage of the quiet time. You didn't really have anything better to do, yet you couldn't bring yourself to work at all, not when your head and gut were rolling with anxiety and fear and a crushing hatred of yourself. That first day avoiding Yunho had felt, well, not good, but justified. But the past two days, more missed calls and texts unanswered, you felt straight up guilty, and stupid. Not really for ignoring Yunho, as much as letting down your boss, which you knew you would. This couldn't be resolved; no matter what the two of you did you'd never get along, and it was clear that there was something in Yunho that made him unable to leave you alone. You hadn't particularly liked the last guy in his position, either, but the two of you had basically ignored each other, easily. But since his entrance to your office, Yunho seemed unable to not bother you, not leave notes, not piss you off every chance he got. And now you couldn't help but ignore him, even though you knew that doing so was fucking you both over, making it certain that you'd never return to that beloved office and your dream job.

You felt stuck. The literal fact of not being able to leave your apartment was eating you alive, making you feel scared and paranoid and vulnerable in ways you knew were illogical. Every little sound started to make you jump; you were losing it, slowly but surely coming apart at the seams. You swore you started hearing your mom's cat meowing for you, and once in the kitchen it sounded so real you spent minutes furiously searching the hall and your bedroom for her. You collapsed on the floor, waves of anxiety rolling over you as you held yourself in the fetal position, not even crying, just hyperventilating.

Yunho: You're being really immature and unfair by not responding to me. Not even giving this a chance of maybe working itself out

You hadn't responded to him in days, but something in you finally broke. It was in the way his words reflected how you felt about yourself, and the severe guilt that it brought you alighted in flames and suddenly felt like nothing but red, hot anger.

Y/n: Fuck you Yunho: Oh, so you are alive

Breathing heavy you stared at the screen, a sudden realization washed over you. You knew it was over; you'd maintained at least some level of professionalism up to this point, albeit not much, with him. Even when you fought in the office you didn't say anything personal or unnecessarily nasty. You only cursed at him under your breath, never loud enough that anyone could hear. But now you had said something nasty, in writing no less. Even if you both somehow made it back to work on Monday, he'd no doubt show your boss what you had said. And even with your long standing relationship with Mr. Kangsoo, you doubted he'd be willing to keep you on after seeing that.

So that was it. It was over. Logically you knew that you could find a new job, that this wasn't the end of your life. The new year was right around the corner, which was always a good time to find new placements. But you had studied communications and psychology specifically for this job, had dedicated years to learning everything you could about funding and mental health care and the ways your boss ran the office. Though it'd never been said directly, you had a feeling that one day you'd become his second-in-command, and maybe even take over running the place once he was ready to take a step back and retire. You loved this part of the city, loved living with your best friend here, and the commute was easy. You'd planned everything so well, yet it still was about to crumble in your hands. And with every passing minute, it felt like you were waiting for your life to implode, which made not being able to leave all the worse.

The next morning you woke to a call from your mom.

"Good morning," she answered, after your muffled and confused, hello? "Happy New Year sweetie."

"Hi mom, Happy New Year," you responded, rolling over to tuck yourself into the covers again. It had gotten bone-chillingly cold with the perpetual precipitation, and pulling the covers off in the morning felt torturous.

"Since you can't come down to see me today I thought I'd call. Are you two doing okay? Do you have enough food?"

"Yeah, we're doing fine," you say through a yawn. "We've got plenty of food, as long as this lets up in a few days."

"God, it better. I'm glad I got to see you on Christmas Eve."

"Me too."

"Are you doing okay? You sound off," she asks you, making your heart sink. She has no idea what's been going on; you've done an expert job of keeping it a secret from her, as you often do with your struggles, because you know she can't really handle it. You know she has too much to deal with on her own, and you never really feel like she gives you good advice, anyway. But with how you've been feeling mentally, hearing someone ask that has you panicking internally.

"Oh yeah, I'm fine, I just woke up is all," you lie, yawning again to punctuate your point. "I'm not really enjoying being stuck inside, I guess."

"That's not like you," your mom laughs, and you know she's shaking her head side to side the way she always does. "You used to always love when you were stuck inside, or stranded somewhere. Do you remember when you got lost at that theme park in Ocean City? When we found you at the ticket booth you were happy as can be. We thought we'd find you crying. The teenage boy who was watching you said you were quiet as can be, just sat in that little nook in total silence. You were such a funny kid." There's a mystical air to her tone telling the story, because she loves to reminisce in that way, and unfortunately you really, really don't. Because that was the time of your life when your dad was still around, and despite the years of therapy you still can't move past it all. 

"Yeah, I remember," you placate her, sighing. You wish you could travel to see her today, just to calm her nerves and make her not worry, because her worrying is the absolute last thing you want. As you stare out the window you see the sky is a bit clearer, and there don't appear to be many flakes still falling. But the snow is still thick and there's surely ice everywhere. You're not even sure if the three separate subway lines you have to take to reach her house are still running.

"Well, sweetie, the weather report said the snow's finally supposed to let up today, so maybe you can get some fresh air soon."

"That sounds good," you mutter, rolling over in bed. "I should go make some breakfast, I'm feeling really hungry. Thanks for calling, love you," you finish the call.

"Okay, love you too sweetie. Talk to you soon," she replies, before you hang up the call.

New Year's Day. You'd forgotten yesterday what day it was, and had been sort of avoiding your phone because of Yunho's texts and calls. You hadn't stayed up till midnight, hadn't welcomed the New Year in any way. You were surprised Yunji hadn't said anything, but then again neither of you really were the types to party or celebrate holidays much. You both had bad memories of them from growing up, or good memories that had turned bad once you'd matured and looked back without your naiveté. And your face and posture were probably screaming 'leave me alone,' Yunji always able to tell if you were upset. You were thankful for that, thankful that she knew how to leave you alone when you needed the space. Really, what did it matter what day it was? New Year's was like any other day of the year, it just had the honor of being first in the lineup. So why was your head spinning so much? Why couldn't you stop thinking about what your resolutions should be?

The morning was strange, even with a delicious bagel and a warm cup of Jasmine tea. It felt strange seeing the sky after it had been covered for days; it even felt strange looking out your living room window to the front yard, the snow on the street gray and muddy and pounded down by the tracks of the few brave souls who'd trekked out or driven in this weather. You saw one neighbor diligently shoveling snow off her driveway, bundled up head to toe in a giant puffy jacket and boots that looked too big for her. Her head snaps up, and you walk towards the window to see what she's seeing; a snow plow was making its way down your street, the drivers finally able to start their work today now that the worst of the storm was behind you. Even the sidewalks looked not so bad, as the clear day had allowed the sun to begin melting the thick snow, the air hot enough that it might not be too icy out there. Something in you called at you to go outside, but the second you thought about it a wave of dread hit you, and you knew you'd be too scared. It would be another day stuck in here, another day avoiding Yunho's texts and feeling so guilty, and you weren't sure if you could take it.

It had gotten to that point now. It had been so long since you felt like this, like you'd rather die than live another moment. Now, just like the first time, you felt so ridiculous and shameful for feeling that way, looking around to see the physical evidence of your privileged life. Your safe and cozy apartment, the food filling the fridge, the brand new washing machine you'd both bought yourselves as a Christmas gift. How could this be so awful? You had all sorts of entertainment, anything you could need to keep you busy while you waited for these snow days to end. You could be updating your resume, starting the search for a new job. You could be calling Yunho back, and trying to find a way through your conflict. You could be doing yoga, meditating, making soup from scratch, reading, writing, learning a new language...

It all sounded horrible. Your mind was collapsing on you, but this time you're not a kid, this time you don't have a great excuse. You'd let some petty drama taint your every waking moment, and you didn't have anyone to blame but yourself. You were too scared to do the right thing, you could see that now, that back when this conflict had started you'd assumed your boss and everyone else would side with you, just because they already knew you. You'd let Yunho get under your skin, to the point that every word he uttered made you angry, letting him in so deep that there was no way out. Not now. You knew this wouldn't be resolved, because you couldn't do it; you could never admit these things to him that you'd just admitted to yourself. You could never apologize, never acknowledge that you played a part. You'd sat yourself staunchly in a position, the innocent one who'd been wronged time and time again by the aggressor, and stepping down from that pedestal would hurt you more than you thought you could bear.

It was the shame of fucking up. Of not being perfect. A conversation from therapy, from almost ten years ago, ricocheted to the front of your mind. 'You're quite a perfectionist, y/n. Do you realize that? It makes you avoid doing certain things, even if you know they're the right thing to do.' You can still see your old therapist's face, her glasses near the tip of her nose as she eyed you. How could you still be right where your fourteen year old self was? You looked like her too, your skin burning with embarrassment at how you hadn't realized that yourself. It felt humiliating to have to be told, because that in and of itself proved you were imperfect. That you weren't totally and completely self aware. The biggest shame you carried was knowing that despite how hard you tried, you never were very good at knowing yourself. 

You laid face down on your bedroom floor. You didn't have the energy or motivation for anything else. You knew clinically speaking, this looked like the start of a depressive episode. But you hadn't had one in years now and were out of practice. What were you supposed to do now? All that felt okay was sinking more into your head, letting the darkness envelop your mind and take you on a ride through your worst memories, your heart racing despite your complete lack of physical exertion.

By early afternoon you'd had enough of that horrifying roller coaster. When you sat up your neck ached, your body screaming at you to never collapse in that position again. You felt jittery, restless, but nothing at home sounded appealing still, not in the slightest. Your eyes catch on your winter boots in the corner of your room, too big to fit on the shoe rack by the front door. And suddenly your mind is made up in less than a second. It was time to go for a walk, to get out of the house. Maybe the cold air would clear your mind.

"Hey, I'm gonna go grab some snacks at Smith's, do you need anything?" you call through Yunji's bedroom door.

"You're going out in this weather?" she asks, opening it.

"The snow let up a lot today, and I'm running low. And I'm feeling too cooped up. It's only five blocks, I'm sure I'll be fine."

"Ok, well, I don't think I need anything. I stocked up on Pocky last time we were there. Are we almost out of toilet paper or paper towels?" she asks.

"No, I just checked," you respond.

"Okay. Be careful," she says, smiling.

"I will, I promise," you say before walking toward the front closet, grabbing your big winter coat and zipping it up.

The outside air is a shock as it greets your face, making your cheeks turn pink almost instantly. The world is still bright, the sun shining the warmest it will all day, but you can see darker clouds off in the distance. You hope they aren't moving too fast; there is only a slight breeze in the air, and mostly it's just so quiet, even with a second snow plow heading down your street. It does feel relieving, a least a little, to finally be outside, and a part of you feels proud for actually going out, given how scared you were this morning. You feel like you're maybe proving to yourself that you aren't such a wuss, that you aren't so prone to avoiding things that one day it'll ruin your life. You walk briskly, your nerves buzzing as your heart rate rises to keep you warm.

It feels nice to be buying your favorite snacks, and you're able to get lost in the normalcy of it for a few minutes. The store is almost empty, so you try making light conversation with the one cashier working, his long hair covered in a beanie. Strolling back outside you're met with the chilly air again, a gust of wind nearly knocking you off your feet as you make your way through the small, empty parking lot. You could have sworn you were only in there for maybe ten or fifteen minutes, but the sky looks almost completely different now, those dark clouds having descended on your area. You start your way back up the hill, bracing yourself against the growing winds, when the sky lets out a low rumble that shakes you to your bones. Suddenly it's raining, the air warm enough to turn the snow into sleet, and it's soaking your face and your hat and your gloves faster than you can believe. The paper bag holding your snacks is disintegrating in your hand, and you shove it under your coat to try to protect it, the cold bag on your stomach making you shiver.

"Fuck, this was a bad idea," you mutter to yourself, shakily making your way finally into your neighborhood, crossing the street that separates the houses from the row of commercial buildings. Your whole body is shaking, your head turned to the ground as you try to avoid getting sleet in your eyes and try to avoid falling. You're moving much slower than you were on your way to the store, carefully planting your feet one in front of the other as you hold your snacks against your stomach. Your brain feels fuzzy, the wind whipping past your ears, and all you can manage to think is, 'just make it home, just make it home.' It's only about three more blocks, you should be able to make it just fine, if you just keep putting one foot in front of the other, if you just keep going, keep goin-

Suddenly someone has grabbed you, your body thrown up like a rag doll, your upper half thrown over their shoulder. You let out a guttural scream, the sound hoarse and weak and getting lost in the storm. You're furiously flailing your legs, wiping the water from your eyes to try to get a look at anything, your lungs heaving as you scream again, this time, "Let me go!!"

The grip on your legs only tightens after your outburst, and then you're hearing a door whooshing open, warmer air greeting you as you enter some house, your eyes able to make out hardwood floors and the large boots of whoever's holding you hostage. You're breathing ragged, trying to get ahold of yourself and figure out where the hell you are, and when you catch a glimpse into the front closet of this house you see those navy blue shoes, with that very unique toe box...

Part 2

Thank you sm for reading! <3

[vivwritesfics]

Daddy Ricciardo

Just some Danny Ric marriage/parent headcannons. Fluffy AF

Have you ever met somebody so in love with their girlfriend that it consumes their entire being?

Well, if you're friends with Daniel Ricciardo, you certainly have

Daniel was utterly obsessed with Y/N when they were dating

He brought her along to every race and showed her off whenever he got the chance

Any Y/N fan pages were probably run by him

Daniel was obviously a man who couldn't wait to get married

Especially to Y/N

You know that bit from The Office when Jim shows off the ring he got the moment he and Pam start dating?

That would have been Danny if he got the chance on drive to survive

No, Daniel got the ring on their six month anniversary

He already knew she was the one

But six months felt like the perfect timing

He didn't propose right away

Things kept getting in the way

But then, there was the perfect storm

Y/N had just come to watch a race

She hadn't been to the last one and had hardly been on the phone to him

Danny thought something was wrong

When she came to the race, Daniel was overjoyed

But then, in the hotel room after the race, she'd gone all serious

"Danny, I've got something to tell you. But I need you to promise me one thing," she said, grabbing a hold of his hands

"Anything," he replied, utterly concerned

Y/N sucked in a deep breath, calming her nerves

"Don't freak out."

When she told him, Daniel didn't freak out

He took in the information silently

Why would he freak out?

This was going to be the best day of his life

Two little words, that was all Y/N had said to him

Two words with so much weight to them

When Y/N was done and looking ready to start crying, Daniel slipped from the bed and pulled the ring box out of his pocket

He got down onto one knee and opened it

"You've just made me the happiest man in the world. Want to make me slightly happier and marry me?"

Y/N found a dress, her dream dress

Three weeks before the wedding, that dress no longer fit

The joys of being pregnant

Sobbing, Y/N made her mother take her shopping for a new dress

Before the wedding, at the rehearsal, Daniel had said he wasn't going to get drunk

If his soon to be wife couldn't drink, then he wouldn't either

But Y/N had insisted

Her soon to be husband was cute when he was drunk

So, Daniel had a few

He had more as the reception went on

Max and Christian were there, drinking alongside him

By the end of the night, Y/N was sat at the table, hand on her bump, cheeks rosy as she laughed at Daniel

He had pulled Max in for a dance and the Dutchman couldn't say no

He literally couldn't say no, because drunk Daniel wasn't listening

The honeymoon was gorgeous, like a dream

They went to the Maldives, stayed in a luxury resort

Four months later, Y/N was going into labour

It was, quite frankly, terrifying

Fifteen hours later, Charlie Ricciardo was born

He was his fathers pride and joy

Where Daniel used to show off Y/N, he now showed off Charlie and Y/N

His camera roll was all pictures of Y/N and his son

As Charlie got older, they started taking him to the races

He had little headphones to wear as the cars went around the circuit

He'd wave (aka, Y/N would hold him on her hip and wave his hand for him when his daddy came into the pits)

Charlies first word was car

Daniel was driving at the time, during free practice

He was so pissed that he missed it

Daniel was the fun parent

He was the one who let Charlie stay up past his bed time and let him have chocolate and fizzy drinks

In moderation, of course

But then Charlie did something scary

"Mummy, I want a brother," he said

Y/N couldn't reply

She had to turn around and pour herself a glass of wine

So, he asked his father

Daniel was so happy to hear it

If Charlie wanted a sibling, he was going to get a sibling

So, Daniel brought it up with Y/N

"Danny, no," she said the moment he suggested it. "When I was pregnant with Charlie and you were travelling for work, I was struggling so much without you. I can't do that again"

Daniel tucked some hair behind her ear

"Don't worry, Angel. I can talk to Christian and get the last few months of your pregnancy off," he said. "Keep you and Charlie travelling with me until then"

That sounded amazing to Y/N

She loved her little family and it only seemed to be growing

She jumped onto her husband

"Get ready for the night of your life, honey badger"

[void-wolfie]

Forty-Five Days

summary: you come back on Valentine's Day after being away on a work trip.

pairing: Jenna Ortega x gn!Reader

words: 1.89k

tw: very fluffy (is there such a thing as too fluffy?), kissing, light making out, let me know if i forgot anything

a/n: happy valentine's day everybody! tried making this as fluffy as i could, not sure how i feel about this one, let me know what you guys think lol

Jenna checked her phone again; 5:15 pm, no new texts. You should be here any minute now. She looked around the crowded lobby, but there was no sign of you yet.

You'd just finished filming for a big project, somewhere in New Zealand. It was a long process, over five months to film. You'd only seen each other for a few days during the holidays and before you had to leave again.

She was excited, to say the least, and nervous. She hadn't seen you in over a month. It made her wonder how you managed to go all that time without seeing her when she had to travel.

Home just wasn't the same without you.

You searched the lobby for any sign of Jenna. It'd been forty-five days since you last saw her, which roughly translated to 1,080 hours or 64,800 minutes. And each minute you were away from her felt entirely more agonizing than the last. (and yes, you did all the math on the plane, it was a very boring flight).

Finally, your eyes settled on a short brunette standing off to the side, away from the crowds. Tan and layered in freckles, her sunglasses were on and one of your jackets was draped lightly over her shoulders. She had a cheeky grin, and you knew she'd been watching you look around cluelessly for at least a few minutes.

You tightened your grip on your luggage, breaking out into a jog to go greet your amazing girlfriend. The second you were close enough you dropped your bags and nearly tackled her into a hug.

"I missed you so much." You whispered, still hugging her as if it were the last thing you might do.

"I missed you more." You could hear the playful smile she wore, her happiness more contagious than the plague. But more than that, you could hear the relief in her voice.

You squeezed her even tighter. You needed this. You needed her. Forty-five days was too long.

"Baby, you have to let go," Her arms gently tugged at your hands, she didn't really want you to let go, but you two couldn't exactly stand around in the airport all day.

"Nooo, just a little longer," you whined, sounding a bit like a child about to throw a tantrum.

"Come on, you can hug me all you want when we get home, ok?"

"Fineeeeee," You sighed. You didn't exactly mind letting her go, knowing there'd be plenty of time for cuddles later, but it was always more fun to be dramatic.

The minute you let go of her, she stuck her hand out, a bouquet of roses held out in front of you, "Happy Valentine's Day, baby."

"You got me roses?" You weren't exactly the type for flowers, but the idea of Jenna going out of her way just to get you something had a way of making your heart melt.

"Yeah? I know you don't really do the whole flowers thing, but I saw them, and I thought of you so-"

She didn't even have to finish her sentence. Before she even had a chance to stop and ask what you were doing, you had hooked your finger into one of the belt loops of her jeans, tugged her in close, and kissed her with all the pent-up passion you had.

God those lips. That smile. Her scent alone was enough to drive you mad. Your whole world could be falling apart, and you couldn't care less as long as you had her in your life.

The kiss didn't last long, much to your disappointment. It did, however, leave Jenna a blushing mess, which was more than enough to leave you satisfied.

You reached into your coat pocket and pulled out a necklace, holding it out for Jenna to see, “Happy Valentine’s Day, love.”

It was a simple necklace, an ivory pendant held by a plain black cord. The pendant looked similar to a vertical infinity sign, except instead of one twist, there were two.

Jenna looked it over in her hands, admiring the craftsmanship and the tiny details.

“The symbol is called a pikorua, it represents two people coming together for eternity. Two people bonded by friendship and loyalty.”

You bounced on your heels nervously. You weren’t a hundred percent sure she’d like it, but the meaning behind it was too good to pass up. You wanted Jenna to have a reminder of your love, especially when you two were apart for work.

“I know it’s not much, but-”

“No, no, no. I love it, baby.” She looked up at you and gave you that smile, the one that made you weak in the knees and your heart all melty. “It’s beautiful.”

She gave you a small peck on the cheek. And despite the heavy kiss from just minutes ago, the small action still made you blush, your heart swelling with feelings you couldn't comprehend, "Come on, love. Let's go home."

Her smile. Her laugh. Her eyes. God this girl was your kryptonite.

You walked through the front door and immediately your jaw dropped.

"Jenna... is this?”

“Yeah…”

“…for me?”

“Yeah…”

“You did all this?"

“Yeah…” Silence. Tension filled the air. You could practically feel the nerves radiating off the girl next to you.

"I wanted to surprise you..." she fiddled with her hands, wringing her fingers nervously as you admired the scene in front of you. "Is it too much? It is, isn't it? I'll clean it up-"

"No!" You said it too fast, too forcefully, "No," You tried again, much more calmly this time, "I love it, baby, it's awesome. I just- I didn't expect this at all."

The house was completely decorated, like something straight out of a Hallmark movie. Candlesticks decorated tables and hallways, lighting up the whole house with a soft yellow glow. Red and pink balloons lined the doorway and silver garland hung from the ceiling. The dining table was adorned with a white tablecloth and a vase filled with more roses. A ‘welcome home’ banner hung over the dining table, swaying slowly as you stared at the painted black letters in awe.

This Girl.

She did all this… for you? Just to surprise you?

“Baby?” You felt her hand on your arm. You hadn’t even realized how long you'd been staring in silence.

You turned around to see her looking at you, her expression a mix of emotions. There was hope and fear, she was so worried you'd hate the decorations, she wanted you to like them. But at the same time, you could see the love in her eyes, whether you loved it or hated it, she only wanted you to be happy.

Your body seemed to move on instinct.

You leaned forward and kissed her without even thinking about it. Your hands gripped her waist and pulled her in closer, anything to be near her. Her hands seemed to naturally find their way up your face, cupping it as she kissed you back.

Forty-five days was too damn long.

The kisses turned into something more. Before you knew it, Jenna had you pushed up against a wall, her hands roaming under your shirt, leaving goosebumps wherever they traveled. Her lips were at your jaw, sucking and nipping at the sensitive skin. It took everything in you not to melt under her touch.

“Baby?” You breathed out, not sure how much more you had in you before your knees would give out.

“Bedroom?” She already knew what you were going to ask, her lips pressed into the base of your neck sent chills down your spine.

“Please.”

You woke up to the sunlight peeking through the window, filtering in between the blades of the blinds. You groaned, tossing and rolling back over in bed. Stupid sun… all you wanted was to sleep in…

You rolled over only to notice the void in the bed. Something was missing… or more like someone. Where was Jenna?

“Baby?” You called out, your voice hoarse and rough from sleep.

You rubbed the sleep from your eyes taking in the state of the room. Candles all burnt out, clothes strewn in every direction, rose petals covering every surface like confetti, half the bed sheets covered the floor while the other half haphazardly covered you.

You could hear noises coming from somewhere outside the room. What is she doing?

You picked up one of Jenna’s t-shirts from the floor and threw it on before stumbling out to the living room. You followed the noises to the kitchen.

Jenna was wearing a pair of sweatpants and a sports bra, her hair tied up in a messy bun. She was working away in front of the stove, the smell of food cooking and something sizzling catching your attention.

You strolled up behind her, wrapping your arms around her waist and resting your head on her shoulder. You didn’t have to look to know she was smiling, you could tell, it was in her body language. The way her muscles seemed to relax with you around, the little laugh she let out under her breath, the way she tried not to move too much so she wouldn’t jostle you around-

“Baby?” Her voice pulled you from thoughts.

“Hmmm?” You barely mumbled, your head still hazy with exhaustion. Between last night's activities and the jet lag from the flight, you were going to need at least a week to catch up on sleep.

There was that cute little laugh again, so quiet you would miss it if you weren’t paying attention. “What are you doing up, love? I figured you’d be asleep for at least another hour.”

“I missed you,” you wrapped your arms around her a little tighter.

“I missed you too, baby.” She leaned over, kissing you on the cheek before going back to whatever she was doing.

Your eyes were half closed as you stood there, clinging to her like a koala with your face nestled into the side of her neck. Despite the fact you were standing, you were comfortable enough that you could almost fall back asleep, if it weren’t for her little movements, you probably would’ve already.

“What’re you doing?”  your voice came out all muffled from talking into her shoulder, but she seemed to understand what you meant.

“Making your favorite. I was going to surprise you with breakfast in bed.” She could see you nodding off on her shoulder, it made her smile. She always found you extra cute when you were sleepy. “Why don’t you go back to bed, babe? I’ll be there in a bit.”

“No.” You meant to sound firm in your decision, but between your morning voice and how tired you were, you sounded like you were about half asleep already. Which wasn’t too far from the truth.

“Babe, go to bed, I’ll be there soon,” She chuckled, smiling at your resolve to stick with her even if you were basically already sleeping on her shoulder.

“I’m fineeeee. I’m going to stay right here and help you cook.”

And you did. You stood right there and ‘supervised’ as Jenna cooked one of your favorite meals, pancakes and bacon. Normally she would’ve pushed you out of the kitchen for being in her way, but after not being together for so long, she didn’t mind the intimacy.

[seventeenpins]

Can we perhaps have something where stepdad Joel makes reader squirt-😗

alskdfjal yes of course this is so perfect :))) thank u for the prompt 💕

practice makes perfect

pairing: stepdad!joel miller x f!reader

word count: 2.5k

summary: follow-up to bad girl. your mom decides to go out one night, leaving you and your stepdad at home alone together. feeling hurt and petty in response to his wife's cheating, he has no qualms with fucking you in your mom's bedroom. you make a mess.

warnings: okay lets go, a lot of fucking (so much fucking), stepcest, infidelity, oral sex (mentioned), unsafe piv, SQUIRTING, dirty talk, fingering, daddy kink, age difference (reader is late 20s, joel is mid-40s), a bit of dom/sub vibes, multiple orgasms, creampie -- let me know if i missed anything?

a/n: i am so completely blown away by the response to my first stepdad!joel fic -- thank you all so much for the comments and reblogs and messages, i fuckin cherish them all. as always, pls feel free to reach out. i hope you enjoy this instalment!

for the first week after joel walked in on you, you were half convinced your entire experience with him had been a fever dream. you hadn't seen all that much of him on account of a big project he's been grumbling about, something about a delayed material delivery that pushed him closer to a deadline than he'd prefer. you were busy yourself, too, going out with friends and spending long hours on some of your freelance work.

there were moments, though, that you'd catch one another and there'd be a glint of something in his eye.

one night, you, your mom, and joel are all sat at the table for a family dinner. your mom has drained her wine glass twice already, and is reaching for the bottle again as she tells you both, "i'm afraid i can't stay for long tonight, i just got a text from vera. sounds like she's having a bad night and needs a friend."

joel makes a sound like a snort that he follows up with a cough. "poor vera," he says, "she's been havin' an awful rough time lately, hasn't she? it's like she's inconsolable every other day."

"yes," your mom says, "she has been going through so much."

joel stares at her for a moment and you almost expect him to challenge her on it, but then he lets out a breath and smiles.

"you're such a good friend, baby," he tells her and she grins before turning back to her glass of wine and taking a big gulp. joel fixes you with a knowing stare and smirks. you both know she's not going to vera's.

after she finishes picking at her plate, she announces that she needs to get ready and dips out of the room.

"so, vera, huh?" you ask and joel snorts.

"can't believe your momma forgot she made me follow that woman on instagram months ago. according to her recent posts, she's currently travelling through iceland."

you roll your eyes and laugh, "seriously?" you ask, and joel nods.

"you'd think she'd be a better liar by this point," you say, and joel smiles but winces a little too.

it's not a game. you know it's not a game. just because you're used to your mother's antics doesn't mean it isn't new to joel, and he's only known for certain for a week that she's been unfaithful to him and that's gotta hurt. despite whatever's going on between you two, you know joel's heart is aching.

you're pretty sure you've just poured salt in the wound.

"i'm sorry, joel," you say, suddenly embarrassed, "i didn't mean to- i don't know. i didn't mean to make fun of it. i know you're dealing with... a lot."

joel shrugs and relaxes, "ah, it's alright sweetheart. just something i need to deal with. but you've done nothing wrong."

"okay," you say, and it's only then that you realise how close you've been leaning towards one another. at the sound of your mother's heels on the stairs, joel clears his throat and the two of you put more distance between yourselves.

your mother's voice carries down the hallway. "will you two be alright without me? i know you haven't had a chance to spend much time together."

"i'm sure we'll manage." you say, and joel smirks.

"she's a real good girl," he says, "'m lovin these opportunities to get to know her better."

"i'm glad to hear it," your mom says, and smiles between the two of you as you do your best not to choke.

"ya look great, baby," joel says, eyebrows raised as he looks your mom up and down. "cute dress. that makeup's gonna get ruined with your face masks, though, huh?"

she blushes and waves him off, "you know i like to get all get dolled up for my girls night," she says, "i can wipe the makeup off later."

"i'm sure you will," he says, and though you can hear the edge to it, you don't think your mom can. he presses a kiss to her cheek.

"i might be home late," she tells you both, "don't wait up!"

"no worries, baby," joel says, "in fact, if vera's having such a hard time, maybe you should make it a sleepover"

your mom grins and it's dazzling and heartbreaking. it's moments like this that you can see exactly why so many men have fallen in love with her. "that's a great idea, honey," she says, "i think i'll do just that! i'll see you both in the morning."

with a swish of her hair, your mom has left through the front door. joel groans, folding forward and resting his head in his hands, letting out a low "fucking jesus" before he sits back and composes himself. he lets out a deep sigh and then turns to look at you and shakes his head, closing his eyes, resigned.

you're not sure what's appropriate. you nearly reach out to deliver a comforting pat to his hand, but change your mind at the last moment, instead batting your hand out like a cat's paw and then recoiling.

joel's eyes weren't, apparently, closed. he sees your indecisive gesture, frowns, and gives you a look, before laughing. "you're okay, sweetheart," he says, his voice still tinged with the rumble of laughter, "it's all a lot to deal with. but i'm managing. and guess what?"

"what?" you ask.

"we've got a whole night to ourselves. just the two of us."

"oh yeah?" you ask, and you suddenly feel hot all over. joel's staring at you with such a darkness in his eyes that you're certain you're already wet.

"'f that's something you'd like, that is." joel smiles and it's almost unexpected the way he checks in with you, that he still has the capacity to focus on your needs. in his position, you might just be out to take what you could get, wholly and selfishly.

he's so... considerate. fuck he turns you on.

"i've got an idea," you say, and you take him by the hand and lead him upstairs.

you can feel his body stiffen when you stand in the doorway to your mother's bedroom. "you want me to fuck you in here?" he asks, and you can't parse his tone.

you're worried that you've gone too far, that despite the filthy way he fucked you only a few days ago, you've hit a barrier you should never have crossed, but you nod. before you can ask is it too much? he's growling "yes" and dragging you into the room.

he pulls you into a kiss, frenzied and feral, his teeth biting at you, nipping at your lips and cheeks, laving kisses down your throat. before you know it, you're both fully naked, clothes littered all over the floor of the room and joel's teeth are gently biting down on one of your nipples as he rocks his hips against yours.

"are you gonna let me take care of you? gonna let daddy take care of you?" he asks, "use your words."

"yes, daddy," you tell him.

"ya know," he tells you, running a hand down your sternum and resting between your breasts, feeling the rise and fall of your breathing, "there have been a few times i've gotten home late these past few days, and when i walked past your bedroom door i could swear i heard the sweetest little moans."

you blush and look away from him.

"uh-uh," he says, tipping your chin up, making you look at him, "were you thinkin' bout me?"

you nod. "yes daddy" it's the truth, after all.

"good girl," he smiles, "thank you for being honest with me. now i already know you're a dirty girl, what with all your naughty videos. and i know you're a fuckin' slut the way you spread your legs so easily for me."

"yes daddy," you echo.

"but what i don't know," he says, and his voice is velvet and dangerous, his pupils blown with hunger, "is just how many surfaces in this room i can bend you over and fuck you till you're so cock drunk you can't speak."

your eyebrows shoot up and your jaw drops.

"i ain't even started with you, honey," he smiles, and he drops to his knees.

it's a fucking marathon.

he eats you out at the foot of your mothers bed till you're panting, his lips glistening with your slick and he makes you feel so good you're certain you're gonna die.

then, your positions are reversed, joel trying his best to plant his feet into the carpet so he doesn't melt off the bed altogether, while you kneel before him. he fucks up into your throat, delighting in every vibration your moans and swallows provide.

soon, you're pressed up against the dresser, your fingers gripping onto the drawer handles as he fucks into your pussy from behind.

then against the bookshelf. the closet doors. there's a moment where joel gets closer than he'd like to coming and he has you grab onto the floor lamp as he eats your pussy again on bended knee, only this time you're standing up and trying your best not to crumple onto him when he makes you come a fourth and a fifth time.

you're starting to get overstimulated. no, you are overstimulated, but it's in the most oddly delicious way. joel has you folded over the foot of your mom's bed, your knees on an ottoman, the rest of you pressed against the mattress, fists groping at sheets, holding on for dear life.

it's a good angle, hell, it's the perfect angle. not only does it feel incredible, it helps prop your ass up to a height that allows joel's huge cock to fuck you deeper without too much more effort, gripping your hips as he pounds into you. the best part, though, is that you're both at the perfect angle to see yourselves in the full length mirror.

"jesus christ, baby," joel is saying, "you see how deep i am? feel how deep i am? pussy's so tight around this cock. can almost feel myself in here," he says, and presses two fingers against your tummy.

you moan, using every ounce of strength you have left to keep your ass in the air and take joel's cock so nicely.

"it feels so good, daddy," you sob, "it's so big, making me come so many times. fuck, i can feel it building- it feels so good, you make me feel so good-"

"yes, baby," he growls, "let go for me, let me feel you come stretched so pretty 'round daddy's dick."

"fuck, daddy," you whine, because you realise it's a different sensation that's been building and even though you know what it is, you've never quite reached an orgasm like this before. "i'm gonna come, daddy! i'm gonna fuckin come-"

"shit, baby," he says as he starts to feel hot wet spurts of liquid splashing out of you, "oh fuck, you gonna wet my cock with your cum?"

you're screaming now, so fucked out and overstimulated

"oh, shit honey, yes-" joel shouts, a man possessed, as he pulls his cock out from you and rubs furiously at your clit, moaning loudly as you gush all over his hand. "oh, i'm gonna need more of that," he groans, and you can't find words to argue. he fucks back into you, hitting that same spot, finding that same pressure.

"could fuckin drink this, baby," he says, "comin' all over my cock like the fuckin whore you are. look at us, baby, look in the mirror and don't you dare close your fucking eyes."

you obey. it's a struggle to get your eyes to even focus, but when you do, you're sent over the edge again and again and again.

the two of you look so fucking good, the jiggle of your ass, the angles of your bodies and the way you slot together, the tan of joel's arms, his muscles, his control, the silver of his hair.

his breathless mantra "good girl, good girl, fuckin' take it, such a good girl-," as you take everything he gives you and more.

he finds a rhythm for fucking every last drop out of you. he'll give you a few harsh, deep thrusts and then pull out and rub your pussy till you aren't gushing around him anymore. then he'll slap your pussy with the head of his cock, making you shudder before he stuffs it back in and builds you up again.

your thighs are drenched and the wetness down your legs is cooling. you've lost count of the number of times he's made you come like this, but finally, you're shaking so hard you can't bear it and his thrusts are getting staggered.

he's breathless when he manages to ask, "you want me to fill up this lil pussy? fill it full of daddy's cum?"

"yes, yes, yeesss-" you beg, and you watch your reflection as joel's hips stutter a final time and he lets out a strangled groan as he loses control and fucks his release into you.

the second after he comes, he collapses onto you but you're so weak and fuck-drunk you collapse, too. joel rolls off of you so you can breathe, but then both of you are laughing. you're disgusting, covered in sweat and spit and squirt and cum, but joel dips a finger into your pussy and then licks up the combination of juices.

seeing your awed expression, joel shrugs and then smiles, a little embarrassed. "just needed to taste ya like this," he says, and it's incredibly endearing.

after a few more minutes of laying around in messy, sticky comfort, joel gets up. and then- "shit".

"what's wrong?" you ask as you look up at him and he's- laughing?

you look down at what he's looking at -- the ottoman. you've drenched it entirely. it's at least three shades darker than it was to begin with, and reeks of sex.

"well," you say, "that's not ideal."

"guess i'll have to buy your momma a new one," he says, rubbing against his temples and barking out a short laugh. then he leans down and presses a gentle kiss to your lips, and one to your forehead.

"you go have a shower," he tells you, "i'll take care of this mess, and then let's get some snacks," he winks, and you smile.

he starts to back out of the room when you call to him, "so, mom's gonna be gone all night-" you start to say, tentative.

"you already askin' for round two?" he asks, incredulous.

"if we're calling all of that-" you gesture around the room, "round one? then yeah. i'm asking for round two."

"dirty girl," he laughs, "you're fuckin insatiable!"

"that's not a no-" you point out.

"no, it's not a no," he says. "let's refuel. rehydrate. and get right back to it."

[milliesfishes]

hellooo i have thoughts about girl dad!billy maybe you could do something with! I feel like he would be soo good with his daughter and constantly talk to her .. so maybe something like him soothing his crying baby with singing/talking and/orr him reacting to her first words ?💕

౨ৎ꣑ৎgirl dad billy౨ৎ꣑ৎ fem reader x billy the kid

Gentle like a breeze kissing the feathery leaves of a tree, you stroked the head of your newborn daughter, unable to tear your eyes from her little face. Her eyes were shut, chest rising up and down. Though only hours old, she was completely perfect. Already she had a smattering of dark hair, and when she'd opened her eyes for the first time, their bright blue color sparked yet another burst of joy. She looked just like her father, in your opinion.

Billy returned from the other room, having seen the doctor out with a hearty thank you for the safe delivery of your new daughter. You could see the exhaustion in your husband's eyes, the tiredness that came from all his worrying. But despite that, he looked as happy as you'd ever seen him. He ran a hand through his messy hair, kneeling beside you and lifting your hand to press it to his mouth. "You okay? Need anything?"

You shook your head, settling back into the pillows, trying to get comfortable without disturbing the baby. Billy watched you, and you could see him holding himself back. It made you smile, and you moved to the side, tipping your head. "Come sit."

He hesitated, but you could see he wanted to. With a little giggle, you nodded. "It's okay. You won't hurt anything." Billy slowly but surely climbed onto the bed, carefully adjusting himself around you. The instant his arm slid around you, your body began to melt into him, finally able to relax.

It was a funny thing, how delicate he was with you, especially when you had been pregnant. Here was a man who had killed and nearly been killed. And he handled you like a glass slipper. You suspected that much of it had to do with his violent past, and all the quiet luxuries survival had not afforded him. So you let him be gentle where he could, with the one he loved. And you couldn't deny it sent a thrill through you to have a man with a gun on his hip kneel before you after a long day and kiss your swelling midsection, lift you off your feet afterward and carry you inside to rest.

Now that same man was pulling up the blankets and guiding your head to his chest, his other hand on the head of your infant. He kissed the top of your head, smoothing down your hair. "You gotta sleep now, darlin'."

"'m gonna need to-to-" a yawn cut you off. "Feed her in a little."

"Just sleep 'til then," he murmured, smoothly transferring the baby from your arms to one of his. She looked even tinier, if possible, in the crook of his elbow. For a moment you worried she would wake up, but all she did was stir, her little nose twitching.

You yawned again, nodding and snuggling closer to his chest. Every bit of your body was brimming with exhaustion, and you were achy in a lot of different ways. One look at the sleeping baby in the arms of the love of your life though, and it was worth it.

"Go to sleep, angel," he breathed, rubbing your back tenderly. "You did so good today. Worked so hard. You deserve to rest."

"Mm," you hummed, already half gone. He kissed your hair one last time before you slipped into unconsciousness, safe and sound in the bubble of what your love had built.

It hadn't been easy by any means. The entire journey- finding out you were pregnant, getting married in a rush, trying to figure out what to do next. It only became worse when he had to leave for a month right after you found out, a work-related journey. You'd pushed him to go even though he hadn't wanted to. The truth was, with your new circumstances, he couldn't afford to miss out on any opportunities. Especially ones like this that paid such good money.

He'd left you with a flat tummy and returned to a bump under your dress, one he spent hours tracing over with your skirt pushed up when he returned home. You'd known it would be a girl long before labor pains began to probe at your body.

As you watched Billy cradle little Kathleen, affectionately nicknamed Kat by him, you understood why so many couples had another baby so soon after the first. The image of Billy cradling his baby girl, cooing at her and rocking her to sleep, was almost too much for your heart. Only a few months later and your body was already craving him again.

Kat was the sweetest baby there ever was, always smiling and giggling and wanting to be held by her mother or father. She loved to be cuddled, and you and Billy were more than happy to oblige, letting her lay between you in your bed. You could hardly stop staring at her, at every inch of her perfect face. She was pure love, manifested by you and Billy.

Billy was attentive as could be towards you after the birth, always making sure you remembered to eat and stand up. You would take turns getting up during the night to tend to Kat, soothing and feeding her respectively. You found solace in your baths, which you took together after Kat went to sleep. it was your alone time, when the beat of your hearts was synchronized and being in love was your only worry.

He would massage your shoulders, smooth his hands up your sides and just hold you, comfort you, whatever you needed. On the rougher nights, you'd bury your face in his chest and let the tears pour hot and heavy down your cheeks. Billy never failed to see you through it.

Tonight was particularly rough, and your crying hadn't ceased when you left the bathtub. He was as sweet as ever, brushing your hair and dressing you in your nightgown. By the time he pulled the covers over the both of you, tucking you snug into his arms, you were feeling a little bit better, the problem from earlier miniscule in the scale of him. He rocked you to sleep near the same way he did Kat, murmuring that he loved you and you were doing such a good job.

Needless to say, you fell asleep quickly.

Any dreams you had were hazy, taking on more colors than shapes as if your mind were an endless sunrise. In the duration of his month away while you were pregnant, your sleep had been considerably limited. Now, with the assured safety of him next to you, your body faded to black like evening to night.

Early, you woke to an empty bed, the blankets tucked around you. The first thing you heard was Kat, her little cries tugging at your heart. Billy was trying to hush her, and even though your eyes were closed, you could match his motions to his quiet dialogue. "Shh, it's okay, sweetheart. C'mon, 's time for bed, mkay? Don't wanna wake up Momma."

Rolling over, you stretched, sleepily opening your eyes. "Mm. Billy."

He half cursed under his breath, before remembering he had a baby in his arms. Softly, he said, "'m sorry, honey. Go back to sleep."

You blinked a few times, trying to see his shadow clearly in the dark. He was standing, holding your squirming little girl and bouncing her gently. Sitting up, you leaned against the headboard. "Billy."

"Baby-" You were already reaching over, striking a match and lighting the stubby candle on your bedside. In the faint glow, you saw what you'd been picturing- Billy still shirtless from his bath, his sleep pants low on his hips, holding Kat to his chest, her face buried in his shoulder. His hair was tousled from sleep, eyelids falling like drapes over his baby blues.

Reaching out for him, the corners of your lips twitched up. "She's probably hungry." Billy bit the side of his cheek, stepping closer. You knew he didn't want you to do anything this late, but if he wanted Kat to sleep there wasn't any choice.

You took her with ease, sliding the strap of your nightdress down to start nursing. Billy, long used to the process, nestled beside you, his arm sliding under yours to help support Kat. His hand covered the top of her head, holding her to your breast. When he leaned in and kissed your shoulder, you smiled.

"My beautiful wife," he murmured, nosing to your neck. "You're such a good momma."

The praise lightened you as Kat slowed down, and you lifted her up with Billy's help. "You're a good daddy too, you know. She loves you."

He took her from your arms to go lay her down, her body growing heavy as her full tummy lured her to sleep. You watched as he burped her and laid her down gently in her cradle, taking care to pull the blanket you'd crocheted over her legs. Rejoining you in bed, he nosed kisses into your hair. "Yeah?"

"Yeah," you affirmed, blowing out the candle before he pulled you back down to his chest. Sometimes you were sure Billy was unable to keep from touching you for more than five minutes. Not that you minded at all.

This little life you'd built with him melted on your tongue like a sugar cube, only it never dissolved, only sweetened. You relished it, cherished it like nothing else. Your Billy, your darling little Kat. There wasn't anything in the world you would trade for it. He was your treasure, everything wonderful and good and true in your life blooming from him like the petals of a flower.

He smothered your hair in kisses. You rubbed his chest, ear over his heart. Gentle. Gentle like the love you built.

[laswells-ashtray]

Lmaooo can we get THIS interaction?

Fuck yeahhhhh, I wasn't sure anyone would think twice about that little tidbit. Also sorry for taking ages to respond to this.

"Kate- Kate, fucking calm down. Christ, don't you fucking- Kate."

He grabs the other omega by her shoulders, holding her in place in an attempt to stop her from sending an e-mail that details how she thinks a certain bald-headed man should gargle a dildo made out of razor blades.

Shepherd had sent her out onto the field last minute with barely enough time to warn Sarah and then promptly hung up before she could protest. Even a passing-by alpha had stepped back after hearing the string of utterly vile curses and threats Kate had let out. So, John was on impulse control duty.

"Kate, take a second and breathe before you end both of our careers. Please."

Nikolai was watching from a distance. For a split second, he suggested that Kate calm down, and the omega had thrown her phone off of his head. Luckily, the phone wasn't broken. Nikolai however? He was less important in these circumstances.

"Take your breathing and stick it up your ass, John. I fucking missed it last year and Sarah was less than happy and he pulls this shit? Last fucking minute? We had an entire fucking day planned. That stupid, haircut like a shaved pussy, patriotic prick." She snaps back at him, pushing herself forward and promptly knocking his ass back a few steps. She was a lot stronger than most people would've expected, John knew better. He'd swung a pillow at her once while they were drunk and he still saw the little scar above his left eyebrow whenever he looked in the mirror.

"Sarah will forgive you, it's not something you can help and she knows that. It's not like you're doing it on purpose." He's holding his hands out like you do when trying not to scare a stray cat and he's unsure if it's working.

"No, you don't- Fucking- Fuck. Sarah was going to ask me to renew our vows."

Oh shit.

His face falls, as do his stray cat hands as he rests his hand on her shoulder yet again with a far more comforting grip.

"I wasn't supposed to know but her sister slipped up and mentioned it at Easter, it's why she was so insisted that I be home and I swore I would. I fucking promised, John."

He's never seen Kate look so guilty in his life and it makes him far angrier at Shepherd, he would hunt the man down and put a bullet between his eyes at that very moment if it weren't for the look on Kate's face.

He pulls her close to his chest, letting the other omega rest her head on his shoulder as she mutters frustratedly under her breath and thinks. And then he makes possibly the most stupid decision of his life.

"Fuck."

He dislocates Kate's thumb.

"Hmm, shite. Looks like you're injured, Watcher, Doesn't seem suitable for the field. I suppose you'll have to go home and Ghost will be so forced to do overwatch." He says dramatically, looking at her thumb with an utterly Shakespearean act of concern.

He watches for the exact moment Kate stops thinking about kneeing him in the balls and instead, a look of realisation washes over her face.

"John, I can't-"

"You see this, lads? Oh, it's a career ender for sure."

The other four men don't even try to pretend that they hadn't been listening in, much to John's amusement.

"Oh, how will she survive?" Ghost comments dryly.

"Christ, Laswell. Ye need an ambulance for that?" Soap cuts in, barely hiding his amusement.

Gaz steps forward with an utterly comedic look of shock. "Someone find some morphine, she looks about ready to drop."

Nikolai doesn't but in, instead he offers her the phone she'd tossed at him back.

He looks down at the other omega, nodding back to the direction that had come from before abruptly stopping. "Go home, Kate. Don't go upsetting the missus." His tone is non-negotiable.

Kate stands for a second with a blank face, he can see the cogs turning in her head before eventually, she lands on what to do. "Think I can still get back in time."

[seramilla]

I ended up binging all your posts about Vaggie being related to the Carmine's and ended up having a dream about all the wedding prep, including Carmilla actually meeting Charlie and thanking her for loving and helping Vaggie heal and grow from her time as an exorcist

I'm sorry, but this gave me ideas, so have some fluff instead of angst on this goddamn page for once.

Charlie Morningstar paces back and forth outside Carmine Industries for several minutes before she even thinks about touching the buzzer. A myriad of thoughts race through her mind as she steels herself for what she came here to do. Vaggie is distracted, back at the hotel helping Alastor with some kind of workshop or other for their guests. She has at least an hour until her presence is needed again -- plenty of time, she hopes, for a meeting with Carmilla Carmine.

Ultimately, it's not her who buzzes herself in, but one of the other Carmine girls. Charlie literally falls over in surprise as the metal door clanks open, but she manages to right herself before face-planting on the concrete outside. Odette, if memory serves, is standing there with a confused expression on her face, cocking an eyebrow at her and turning her head 30 degrees like a curious puppy. Charlie clears her throat, blushing profusely at her almost-fumble.

"Od-Odette! Hello! Did I get that right? Um, yeah, hi! I'm here to see Carm--Ms. Carmine. Is she home--at work--do you live or work here? I guess I don't know. I'm sorry, that's a dumb question, I just--!"

Odette chuckles. "She's here. Are you looking for an audience with her?"

Charlie lets out the breath she hadn't realized she'd been holding. "Yes! Ma'am! Yes, ma'am! Oh, I'm sorry, do you mind if I call you ma'am? Is that weird? Should I call you something else?"

Odette chuckles again. "Odette is fine. No need for any formalities, your highness. You know you're welcome here. Follow me."

"Thank you so much! I'm coming!"

Charlie talks Odette's ears off the entire time they're walking toward Carmilla's office. Up a huge flight of stairs, around a corner, and all the way down a long hallway, Odette is given a crash course on all the current events happening at the Hazbin Hotel. She could probably give a lecture on the topic, given how good Charlie has gotten at really drilling home all the highlights of her redemption program.

When they finally stop in front of Carmilla's office, Odette gives Charlie's hand a firm shake, saying, "It's been a pleasure, Miss Morningstar. Now I must return to my tasks for the day." Then, without another word, she's gone again.

Charlie pauses at the ornate door leading to Carmilla's office. It's tall, and imposing. She's the princess of Hell, goddamn it! Something like this should be super simple for a daughter of Lucifer Morningstar!

Shaking all her misgivings out of her head, she says to herself, "Right! Let's do this!" before knocking firmly on the door three times. After a moment, a muffled yet prominent, "Come in!" reaches her from the other side. Taking another deep breath, Charlie opens the door, and steps inside.

Carmilla Carmine is at her desk, working away at a stack of files and papers that are practically as tall as Charlie is. Other stacks, she assumes the finished ones, are scattered in boxes around the floor at Carmilla's feet. Charlie doesn't even begin to know where to look -- the office is so busy. Instead, she ignores it, and smiles at Carmilla when the other woman's gaze meets hers.

"Charlotte!" Carmilla says, a happy lilt to her voice. She immediately stands and greets the princess with open arms. One of the privileges of dating the daughter of Carmilla Carmine is she's often privy to the woman's more maternal side. A notion that is quite welcome, as far as Charlie is concerned. It's nice, feeling that kind of maternal love again -- it's been so absent from her own life since her mother...left all those years ago.

"It's so nice to see you, Charlotte. Please, have a seat. What do I owe the pleasure of your company today?"

Carmilla gestures Charlie over to the plush couches on the opposite side of her office. The furniture has been upgraded since the last time she's been here. Charlie obliges and takes a seat. Carmilla joins her.

Charlie debates whether to break through her own misgivings with small talk, but decides better of it. She came here with a purpose today; she only has so much time before she's needed back at the hotel, so she decides to just get to the business at hand.

"Well," Charlie starts, immediately fumbling all the words she'd so diligently practiced earlier. That's so like her. But she won't be deterred! She grips the fabric of her pants tightly in both fists and continues.

"As you know, Vaggie and I are coming up on our 5-year anniversary in a few months. It's a big milestone for us, and I wanted to do something really special for her..."

Charlie pauses, waiting to see if Carmilla will interject. The older woman is as poised and stoic as ever, waiting patiently for Charlie to continue. Charlie wishes she could better gauge what the woman is thinking at the moment...but it can't be helped. Charlie's not a mind reader. Nowhere else to go now, but forward!

"...Anyway...um...what I came here to do today was...uhh...oh, fuck, why is this so hard?"

"Take a breath, Charlotte. It's okay."

That definitely is not helping Charlie's nervousness at all, being reminded to breathe, like she doesn't have two perfectly capable lungs, all her own. Carmilla is still looking at her with that face, like everything is fine. How does she know it's fine? She doesn't even know what Charlie's going to say!

Breathe, Charlie!

"God, okay. Hoooo boy. Carmilla. I came here today to ask...to tell you...that I love Vaggie very much. More than anything in the world. My life was not complete until she literally fell into it, and every day since then has been more rich, more fulfilling, and more full of joy than I can ever put into words. I'm telling you this because I'm going to...I want your blessing when I... I'mgoingtoaskhertomarrymeandIwantyoutotellmeit'sokay! Okay?"

The last part comes out of Charlie's mouth in a flurry of words. She lets out a sigh of relief, thankful she was able to get it out. She hopes Carmilla had understood her. Thankfully, the sparkle in Carmilla's eyes tells her that she has, and so much more. Before she can even protest, Carmilla pulls Charlie into a hug that's so tight, her spine nearly bows from the force of it.

Shit, this overlord's strength is nothing to sneeze at.

"You don't need my permission, Charlotte," Carmilla says, squeezing Charlie even harder around the waist. Charlie squeaks.

"I...I don't?"

"Of course not. You're already family. And Vaggie's a big girl. She can make her own decisions. But if you want my blessing...then of course you have it. I can never repay you for protecting her, loving, her, and watching over her when I couldn't. I would love nothing more than to welcome you into our family...officially."

"You, too!" Charlie says, not wanting to diminish the other woman's contribution to Vaggie's healing process. "Also, I almost asked my dad if he would do it, but...I want you to be the one to walk her down the aisle, if she says yes! I know she would want that!"

Carmilla can't hide the fact that she's the one crying now. Charlie sees her trying to hide the tears behind the hand in front of her face, but the cracks are breaking around the older woman's facade like a dam trying to overrun its banks. She smiles at Charlie, and nods.

"Of course I will. I would love nothing more than to give my girl away to you."

Charlie can't wait for the day she can pop the question to the love of her life. She's already bought the ring, got the date planned with Asmodeus, and booked an opulent night full of food, dancing, and every other pleasantry the Lust ring has to offer. She vows to make it the best night of Vaggie's life, second only to their wedding day, if she accepts Charlie's proposal.

Beyond that, all Charlie can see is happiness. She never dreamed as much for herself. But it's so close, she can almost grasp it. She leaves Carmilla's that day feeling more light and airy than she has in a while, and more full of conviction that she has the strength to see this through.

She deserves it. Vaggie deserves it. Carmilla deserves it. Her heart is so full of love and raw tenderness, she could practically burst.

[dronebiscuitbat]

Hi! I have something new to show you guys.

Oil is Thicker Then Blood is my baby, and it's not ending. There's still more I wanna write and explore.

However, I haven't tried my hand at a human AU yet, and I wanted to, it's gonna be a side work, so probably not updated as often, but I hope you all enjoy it regardless. Since I had fun writing the first chapter! (Is rated as Mature! So nothings being held back here. It's pretty adult and pretty dark.)

Give me a Reason: Chapter 1- "Uzi Doorman"

Pale morning light bounced off blackout curtains not quite pulled tight enough to keep it at bay, the small tendrils of light broke through, drawing shapes of light on a deep purple blanket, bunched and tousled by a fitful sleep. A small body lay halfway off the bed, fair skin exposed to the bedroom air, eyes screwed shut and drool pooling out of their open mouth, a frame of violently purple hair rested of their head, the natural black only showing through at it's roots.

A soft snoring was the only sound in the dimly lit room, stuffed full of band merch, anime posters, and a touch of macabre, a fake human skull on their desk, a dreamcatcher in the shape of a pentagram hung on the wall, and purple L.E.Ds were spread like a vine growth, draped over everything, painting everything in a soft violet glow.

There were clothes and papers littered all over the carpeted floor, far more then could be accumulated in just one night of neglect, instead being a sign of something more chronic, the snoring continued, filling the space

Then, in an eruption of noise, the phone lying next to the mattress rung out it's morning tune, an 8 bit rendition of an anime opening that while may have been fun to listen to at some point, it's use as an alarm had made it's charm rapidly shift to hatred.

The body jolted awake, muscles all tensing at once as a very loud grunt escaped their mouth, they stretched and fumbled their way to grab the phone, missing several times before bringing it close to their face and quickly silencing the alarm.

“Uuuuuuggggghhhh.” A disgruntled cry left their mouth, and moth their arms ended up above thier head as the gazed at the ceiling in retrospection, wearing a black pair of boyshorts and a tee with a faded, nondescript band printed on the front. They looked at their phone, eyes a deep magenta as they squinted, looking at the time.

It was 6:30 in the morning, too early, in this person's opinion as they rolled their eyes before rolling over entirely before facing the black, grey wall.

“Uzi! Get up! You have school!” A voice called from behind her bedroom door, Uzi sighed deeply, nibbling on her lip as she tried to find the energy to get up and get ready.

She found it difficult to find, forcing her brain to send the correct signal to her arms and legs was like trying to pull teeth, but eventually, after much forcefull squirming she finally managed to sit up, her joints groaning in a way that shouldn't be normal for someone who's only 19.

She stood, groggy and irritated though what else was new. At a resounding 4,8. She yawned, scratching her head and only made her already impressive bed head look like a tangle of briars.

“I'm up!” She yelled through her door, voice montone despite her volume, while she heard no response, she seemed satisfied she'd been heard, and stepped over the mess on the floor to her closet, where she quickly picked out shorts, a purple tank top, and a hoodie made by one of her favorite bands “Dead Batteries.”

She was lucky to have a bathroom connected to her bedroom, so she made her way to it, stepping over more junk to take a shower for the first time in like 3 days, she hadn't been stopped by anything, not really, it had just been not worth the effort when she had nowhere to be.

She washed herself and her hair, causing just a little bit of the dye to come out in her hands, staining them pink, she rolled her eyes, oh well, she wasn't going to be making a good impression anyway, everyone already knew who she was.

She got dressed, throwing on her purple socks, boots, and beanie before walking out into the combined kitchen and living room of her house, her father, Khan, a bald man with a mustache, steely grey eyes, and age lines on his face was making breakfast, eggs, bacon, with a side of toast.

“Good morning! I made breakfast!” His voice was naturally deep, but right now it was loud and booming and immediately made Uzi wince at it's intensity.

“Thanks.” She offered quietly, sitting down and eating absent-mindedly as she looked over a the television they had mounted on the wall in the kitchen, it was turned to the news, and Uzi had to surpress another eye roll.

More Prostests at the JCJenson head office today, the popular technology company facing heated backlash after it announced a campaign to delve more into their recent exploration into artificial intelligence, despite the recent controversy after a government sting operation found human brain scans within thier internal documents.

“Dad, please watch something other then the news. It's nothing but rage-bait.” She hummed with egg still in her mouth, Khan didn't seem to pay any mind to his daughter however, as he was too focused on the television.

“Don't talk with your mouth fill honey.” Was all he said, and Uzi closed her mouth, breaking her eyes from the screen onto a new one, her phone, where she scrolled through pictures her classmates had posted over the summer.

Her eyes landed on a picture of Lizzy, self-proclaimed “Queen of Mean.” Of Copper High, though Uzi had to agree, the girl was always doing her best to make Uzi's life a living hell, this picture only continued that. Lizzy was pretty, gorgeous even, with her immaculate blonde hair and strangely florescent pink eyes, she was skinny, yet muscular from being on the cheer team. And the two peice pink bikini showed off her figure even more.

Uzi would think she was hot, if she wasn't such a bitch.

She only half finished her breakfast, scraping the rest of it into the cats, Salem's, bowl, who purred and danced around her legs in thanks, Uzi scratched the black cat's head, before finding her backpack by the door and slipping it on, it was faded, and while it used to have two cute little bat wings they'd since been torn off, leaving two little black scars where the wings should have been running down the face of it. It was whatever, it was just a backpack.

“I'm headed to school!”

Khan was still too busy looking at the TV, but Uzi left anyway, sighing to herself as she put black earbuds in her ears to listen to nightcore as she walked to school.

Her pace was slow, she was in truly no rush to get to her destination anytime soon, or really, at all, if she could get away with it, she'd simply ditch and then buy some mushrooms off Sam, her kinda freind/dealer. But she couldn't, not now. There was a reason she was still in high school at 19, that being one of them.

So she grit her teeth and bared it, stopping to stare at the school building, being a classic, flat roofed high-school made of red brick and tears before heading inside.

She wasn't late, couldn't be late. With her guidance counselor breathing liquor fumes down her neck about her attendance and very thin ice she was on with the rest of the schoolboard, so she at least attempted the bare minimum of being on time, and actually showing up.

She only had one more year of this anyway. Though west she planned to do after was up for debate. Probably somewhere between homeless and prison if what the police told her dad was true. Which it was.

She knew her homeroom, it was the same as last year, but her saving grace was that Lizzy and her best friend Doll wouldn't be here this year, as they had already graduated. So no more getting shoved into lockers and being blamed for shit she didn't do.

She did plenty already to get her in trouble, she didn’t need help, thank you.

She expertly weaved her way between the tall, sweaty high schoolers and walked onto her homeroom, Mr. Brown was sitting at his desk, looking over his itty bitty glasses to read the newspaper.

Who the fuck read newspapers in the year 2024? This dumbass man, apparently.

“Uzi. Didn't expect to see you again this year.” He said before she had a chance to sit down somewhere, she looked at him blanky.

“Bite me Mr. Brown, you know damn well why I'm here.” She snapped back, knowing that he knew why she was back, it had been him that had caught her high in class, and him that decided to call the on campus police on her, and got her suspended, and was the one that got her held back a year.

Granted, she was the one high, but if you thought she was going to take credit for her own behavior then you haven't been paying attention very well, now have you?

“And with that attitude, you'll likely be back next year.” He still didn't feel the need to look at her, taking a sip of his coffee instead, she felt a feral hiss claw its way out of her throat, but chose to just sit down, though she slammed her backpack down a little hard.

The room steadily filled in with students, a few she recognized from the year below her last year, a few more she didn't, most didn't pay her any mind which she preferred over the other options, the attention she got was usually negative.

A very tall figure caught her attention, someone she really didn't recognize, because she would have definitely remembered them. They were male presenting, had a shock of decently long platinum blond hair that went down to his shoulders. His eyes were amber, though so bright they were almost golden, and honestly, he looked like he was about to hurl.

His hands tapped together in what was obvious to Uzi as some type of self-regulatory behavior, and he looked to be trembling with anxiety, eyes scanning over the mostly filled room. They made eye contact.

A wide, sunny smile broke onto his face, she felt as though she was almost flashbanged by it, she blinked before she turned away from him, she really hoped that he wasn't in her class and was just lost, because she had a feeling she'd have to find some way to ditch this kid if he did.

“Nathaniel, go sit down, you're in the right class.” Mr. Brown spoke up, and Uzi quickly looked around at the empty seats, only to realize the only two were near her, the one in front, and directly beside her.

Fuck.

He found the seat next to her, making her curse a few more times internally, he looked around again, either trying to see if he knew anybody or maybe catch anyone else's eyes to speak to.

Before he turned back to her with another massive ass smile.

Double Fuck.

“Hi, I'm Nathaniel, but you can just call me N.” His voice was just as bright as his smile and Uzi kinda just wanted to keel over and die rather then interact with him, Jesus, he was like a walking sunbeam.

“Uh, Uzi.” She replied in a noncommittal fashion, though the one letter nickname intrigued her just a little bit, it reminded her of anime.

“Oh, like the submachine gun?” He cocked his head curiously, still smiling, Uzi didn't even really want to look at him, but she was appreciative that he knew that. Her mom had been really into guns, what can she say?

“Yeah.” She replied simply, giving him nothing to work with in terms of more conversation, not her fault, she hated small talk and eye contact, both of which he was trying to initiate.

“Oh, um sorry, I just recently moved here, I don't know anyone, I can stop talking if you want.” He suddenly turned sheepish, and he was doing the tapping thing with his hands again, Uzi almost winced, as much as she didn't exactly want to talk to him, he suddenly looked too much like a kicked puppy, and it was wearing on what little empathy she had left.

“Nah, I just don't talk much… you can keep talking.” She offered, she could at least do that right? Let him talk without the expectation of her responding? Yeah, that was fine, he was probably in just her homeroom anyway, and once he met some more people, he wouldn't talk to her anymore.

“Oh! Uh okay!” He glanced around again, before focusing back on her.

“I like your piercings! They look cool!” Uzi looked surprised for a moment, she didn't remember putting in piercings this morning, but she felt her ears and sure enough the two black studs and the small gauge were there. Oh right, she hadn't bothered taking them out.

“Thank you?” She really didn't know how to respond to that, she never really got compliments ever, especially not about her piercings, most people just told her they looked “unbecoming.” or “god awful.”

“You're welcome!”

“Morning class.” Mr. Brown began, standing up and addressing his class from the front of the room, N immediately turned his attention to him, making Uzi have a sigh of relief internally.

“I'll be passing out your schedules, make sure you read it and memorize it, most of you already know the layout of the school, so there's no excuse to be late to your classes.” He was always monotone, which was unfortunate because he normally taught history, making an already boring subject even more boring.

Uzi picked up her phone again, putting one of her earbuds in, on the side opposite to the one N was on, so he could still talk if he wanted, and began a scroll through Tumblr, there wasn't really anything new, but it was something to do with her hands, so that was something.

“Hey, uh… wanna see if we have any classes together?” N was turned towards her again, holding his schedule in front of him and again looking a little nervous.

Uzi groaned, not out loud, but internally, she wasn't creeped out, she knew what guys were like when they were being creepy, and this wasn't it, but he was being so friendly, it was putting her off, people weren't this friendly, not for no reason. She just couldn't understand what his was yet.

Next ->

[slaymitchabernathy]

The Nanny

Having never been to a high society wedding before, Soarynn had made the foolish, naive mistake of thinking that she'd actually get to spend a moment alone with her husband.

How wrong she had been.

From the moment they stepped into the dining room, they were pulled in separate directions.

Soarynn was swarmed by the women complimenting her entire look for the day, her hair, her makeup, and of course, her dress. Every time either of them sat back down at the dinner table, they were getting right back up again.

Coriolanus mostly talked business and politics with the men, and occasionally he'd be congratulated on getting married.

Once they moved to the ballroom it was even busier. Soarynn was expected to greet and thank every guest as the new First Lady and with Eudora by her side, she actually managed quite well. Coriolanus would appear and disappear from her side while she greeted all of their guests, whispering words of encouragement, kissing her temple, and then going back into the crowd.

At least she had the children to keep her company. They showered her with compliments all while basking in all of the attention they were given. Truly children in a candy shop.

"When can we be expecting more little ones?" An older woman had asked Soarynn while smiling down at Caspian. Soarynn had honestly been a bit taken aback by her forwardness, she hadn't even been married for a full day and people already expected her to be pregnant.

Thank goodness she had Eudora to help her navigate her way out of awkward conversations. "Just ignore them dear," Eudora had advised, "enjoy the rest of your night with your husband."

Easier said than done.

Soarynn had last seen Coriolanus in what looked like a serious conversation with Quintus and several other important-looking men. Still, she wandered through the ballroom, flashing smiles at all who looked in her direction. "Such a beautiful ceremony," a woman says to Soarynn, "and such a beautiful bride." Soarynn feels a more genuine smile crawl across her lips, "Thank you for your kind words, and thank you so much for attending."

The woman waves her off, "Oh we wouldn't miss this for anything, it's the wedding of the century!"

Soarynn keeps mingling, answering questions, and posing for photos, she can see her husband's blonde head of hair standing tall above everyone else's, and just as she's about to reach him, she's ambushed by Lucky Flickerman and his camera crew.

"I've got Soarynn Snow with me folks! Soarynn. Snow. Remember that name because you're gonna be hearing a lot of it in the upcoming months with next year's elections coming up! Now Soarynn, what do you have to say to those watching from the Districts?"

He points the microphone at Soarynn and she's nearly blinded by the camera's bright light but she manages a graceful smile, "My husband and I are so grateful for those who took the time out of their days to watch our wedding." Lucky nods along to her words, soaking up every syllable as if she's a general delivering an encouraging speech to her battered troops. "Well said Mrs. Snow! I've been hearing nothing but the highest praises sung about your beauty today, and may I just say, you look stunning in that dress! Who designed such a piece of work?"

Soarynn feels herself relax at a question that she can easily answer without any repercussions, "My dear friend Tigris designed my dress," she tells Lucky, "she's designed most of my gowns the past year, she's bringing a new edge to fashion."

Lucky's eyes grow large, "A new edge you say? Well, folks, it looks like we're on the cusp of a new fashion era! How exciting! Well my dear, congratulations again, I can't wait to see you at the Victory Party!"

Ah yes, another party.

Soarynn thanks Lucky for his time, pressing the complimentary kiss to his cheek before he runs off to interview more unfortunate souls. Soarynn let out a deep breath she didn't even realize that she was holding in. She doesn't even get a moment to relax before she hears a small voice calling for her attention, "Mommy!"

Soarynn looks to her left and finds Celeste walking towards her, hand in hand with an older-looking woman. Soarynn has never met this woman before but that applies to a majority of the people in this room today, "Hello darling, who did you bring along with you?" She asks, brushing back some of Celeste's curls, "I brought Grandmother!"

Soarynn's eyes widen and she looks back up at the older woman who now looks very familiar. Mrs. Cardew, Livia's mother. She didn't even know that the Cardews were invited.

"It's a pleasure to meet you," Soarynn says softly, extending her hand to the Grandmother of her children. Mrs. Cardew takes her hand and gives it a firm shake, "The pleasure is all mine. I've heard nothing but wonderful things about you from the children and everyone in this room," Mrs. Cardew says, her gaze impenetrable.

Coriolanus has maybe spoken about the Cardews three times total and he never mentioned inviting them to the wedding. Not that Soarynn minds, but she would've appreciated a heads-up at least.

"Thank you, that's very kind," Soarynn replies, feeling a bit caught even though she's done nothing wrong and this is her wedding, "Coriolanus and I appreciate you coming." Mrs. Cardew's eyes travel down Soarynn's dress as if looking for a flaw but it seems that she's found none, "Yes, we will always do our duty to support our country and our President."

Soarynn swallows because she is not the President or the reason they came tonight.

"I want to have more cookies," Celeste says, tugging on her Grandmother's hand impatiently. Soarynn goes to correct her but Mrs. Cardew holds up a hand, "We can go get more cookies, Celeste."

Celeste grins, giving Soarynn a wave before she begins to drag her Grandmother into the crowd but the cake is being wheeled in and causing quite the traffic jam from the looks of it. Only inches away from one another, Soarynn could cut the tension between her and Mrs. Cardew with a knife.

"Take care of my grandchildren, will you?" Mrs. Cardew whispers, her green eyes reflecting so many emotions at once, grief, sadness, and loss. Soarynn nods, "I'll guard them with my life," she promises and she means it too, she's done it before and she'll gladly do it again.

That seems to make Mrs. Cardew relax and she sighs, "Good, and you'll make him happy won't you?" She nods towards Coriolanus who's standing on the other side of the ballroom, "My daughter was never good at that."

Mrs. Cardew and Celeste disappear into the crowd before Soarynn can even respond, leaving her with a million thoughts racing through her head. But she knows one thing for certain, she'll make Coriolanus happy, it's what a good wife does.

꧁ ꧂

Soarynn would be lying if she said that she wasn't exhausted.

Still, she waves to those who are watching her as she slides into the backseat of the car that will drive them to her childhood home for their much-awaited honeymoon.

Coriolanus slides in after her and lets out a deep sigh once the doors are closed and they're hidden by the tinted windows, "Well that was exhausting," he says, resting his head on her shoulder. Soarynn chuckles, at least he's honest, "It was rather tiring," she agrees, her hand finding his, "but it was so wonderful. Thank you for making today so special."

He gives her hand a gentle squeeze and the car starts moving, "You were what made it so wonderful darling, I simply paid the bill."

They both laugh at his very true statement. Coriolanus barely planned a thing but he did sign every check that Soarynn or Eudora laid across his desk without even batting an eye at the price.

"We're married," she whispers, giddiness taking over her entire body, "I can't believe we're finally married." Coriolanus hums and brings up their intertwined hands to admire her rings, "All everyone could tell me tonight was about how beautiful you are, how kind and sweet, makes me wonder how you ended up with a man like me."

Soarynn scoffs, sitting up straighter, "You say that as if you're evil or something." Coriolanus lifts his head so that he can look directly into her eyes, "I'm the President darling," he tells her gently as if that's enough of an explanation, "every decision I make angers half of the country and the other half still finds something to critique."

Soarynn frowns, he's always been under so much pressure, and with the elections coming up next year, he's bound to be even more stressed. "Maybe...maybe you shouldn't run for reelection then," she whispers, scanning his face for any signs of anger, she doesn't doubt his abilities but she doesn't want him to carry this weight alone.

Coriolanus shakes his head, a determined look in his blue eyes, "It's not even an option at this point Soarynn," he tells her, "my advisors have been pushing for this since I got elected the first time and none of my competitors stand a chance against me. I have everything I need to win again, the name, the money, the family."

Goosebumps cover Soarynn's skin at the last word, "People are already asking when we'll be having more children," she blurts out, unable to contain her thoughts any longer, "and I met Livia's mother tonight."

Coriolanus can't even hide his look of surprise, not that she can blame him. Coriolanus Snow is an expert in masking his emotions but he can't always be prepared for whatever she throws at him. "I didn't expect the Cardews to come," he finally says, almost like admitting to a secret, "and as for future children, I've told you this already darling, we have three perfect children already. If we have more then that'll be wonderful, if we don't, then all will be well."

He's right. They have three beautiful children right now, sound asleep in their beds, healthy as can be and Soarynn is worrying about having more babies. She ought to stop thinking about the future so much, it can't be healthy. Soarynn hums and leans in to peck his lips, "I feel like I barely saw you tonight, and when I did you were talking to another man. Makes me question where your loyalties lie."

Coriolanus smirks, cupping her face with his large hand, "My loyalties hmm?" His deep voice sounds so very attractive right now, "Well my darling, I am confident to say that my loyalties lie directly with you, and that sweet little cunt between your legs that I can't wait to get properly acquainted with tonight."

Soarynn turns the brightest shade of pink and shoves him, "Language!"

Coriolanus laughs at her flustered state, he’s always been one to enjoy using vulgar language in the bedroom and it always manages to rile her up whether she likes it or not. But to be on the giving end of such words makes her nervous.

Soarynn has a very limited set of words and phrases that she uses in the bedroom such as: ‘Please’, ‘Oh, please’, ‘Thank you’, ‘Please let me cum’, ‘Oh, right there’, and ‘Oh, that feels so good Coryo’.

Coriolanus on the other hand has a whole plethora of things to whisper in her ear while they roll around in the sheets. Most of which are so nasty that she can hardly believe that he’s the same man who addresses the entire nation with inspiring speeches and levels of maturity.

Two sides to each coin she supposes.

They spend the rest of the car ride sharing kisses and words of devotion with one another all while Coriolanus remains insistent on trying to sneak his hands under the skirt of her dress but it's a very large skirt and he's underestimated his abilities to get in her pants so to speak.

By the time they arrive at the Nightingale townhouse, Coriolanus is ready to rip the dress off of her entirely. He's so very impatient in everything he does from opening the car door to helping Soarynn out of the car. She herself is in no rush and takes her time walking up the paved pathway leading up to her front door while Coriolanus fumbles to unlock it.

Soarynn and Eudora had come to her childhood home last week to make sure everything was prepared for their short stay including the keys. "Is everything alright darling?" Soarynn asks once she reaches a struggling Coriolanus at the door, resting a hand on his shoulder, "Perfectly fine," he answers through gritted teeth while trying to unlock the door.

Soarynn sighs heavily for added effect, "It's terribly cold out here Coryo, are you set on freezing your wife already?"

The look he gives her goes straight to Soarynn's core but she continues her verbal assault while he continues to fumble with the door, "I thought husbands were supposed to have everything taken care of," she says, scratching at the spot where his golden curls start to grow, his favorite spot for her to touch when they're in bed, "but maybe I'm just too young and naive to understand marriage."

Coriolanus finally gets the door unlocked and shoves it open with his foot while grabbing Soarynn by the arm and pulls her inside. The moment he shuts the door, he's all over her. His hands around her waist while his lips worship her own in a heated, heavy kiss.

He works his way from her lips to her jawline, sucking on the delicate skin, "Coryo," she gasps, "Coryo no marks." Coriolanus groans against her skin and brings one hand around her neck, gently squeezing it while pressing Soarynn against the front door, "The wedding is over," he says hoarsely, "which means you're all mine now darling and I intended on leaving a mark or two."

Soarynn's eyes flicker with excitement and she nods towards the grand staircase, "What're you waiting for then?"

Coriolanus smirks, pressing one more chaste kiss to her lips before bending down and picking Soarynn up bridal-style. She lets out a shriek and quickly wraps her arms around his neck when he starts towards the stairs, "Coryo! I can walk up the stairs you know."

Coriolanus chuckles and begins climbing the marble staircase, ignoring her looks and words of protest, "I know darling, but it's tradition for a man to carry his bride to their room and we both know that I'm a man who values tradition." He is indeed.

Soarynn can only roll her eyes and rest her head on his shoulder while he continues climbing and she must admit, it's very attractive how easily he can carry her and the dress as if they weigh nothing to him.

When they finally reach the top, Coriolanus gives a triumphant sigh, "I honestly have no idea where to go from here," he admits and they both laugh. Coriolanus might be familiar with the first floor, but the second floor of the Nightingale townhouse is a mystery to him. But not to Soarynn, "Down the hall," she kicks her foot in the general direction, "second door to the left."

Coriolanus strides down the dark hallway, the hallway that Soarynn spent her entire childhood running up and down. The doors at the very end lead to her parent's room, a room that's remained untouched since her father's death.

Coriolanus manages to open her bedroom doors without dropping her, revealing her own bedroom, ready for the newlywed couple. Soarynn had sprinkled some rose petals on the sheets when she and Eudora came to check on everything and she's pleased with the atmosphere it's created.

Coriolanus gently sets her back down but not without peppering her face with kisses first, making Soarynn giggle, "You're such a flirt," she purrs, resting a hand on his smoothly shaven cheek. Coriolanus winks at her, "Only for you."

The two soak it all in for a moment, their wedding, the fact that they're now married, and most importantly, the fact that they're about to have sex for the first time.

"I should take off my shoes," she whispers, unwrapping herself from her husband and walking over to her bed. Soarynn sits on the bench at the foot of her bed, a spot that Petunia loves to lounge on and she watches Coriolanus curiously look around her room. The last time a Snow was in her room was when she was hired again and had to pack up her things with the children.

Coriolanus displays a similar level of curiosity as the children while looking at her room. It's a rather large room with two doors by her bed leading out to the balcony. Coriolanus takes his time looking at every photograph on the walls, reaching up to touch some of them.

Soarynn smiles at the sweet sight, she'd like to think that she brings out a younger side of him, sweeter and gentler.

She slips off her shoes with a relieved sigh, those heels were killing her. Soarynn looks around her room as well, everything the same way as she left it but she's about to leave this room very differently. A woman.

Soarynn takes Coriolanus poking around her things as an opportunity to unzip her dress, feeling even more relieved now that the tight bodice is no longer holding her in. Soarynn ever so carefully steps out of the dress pooled around her legs, making sure not to trip over any of the tulle. Tigris mentioned putting it in a box to preserve it and Eudora said there was a possibility of it being in a museum.

It'll be on the floor until further notice.

Soarynn takes a quick look at herself in her vanity mirror's reflection, admiring the lingerie she chose to wear for her wedding night. With the dress being strapless, that meant her bralette would have to be as well. It's entirely made up of intricate lace patterns, all while pushing up her breasts in a tasteful manner. Her panties are also white lace with little frills on the sides and a rose in the very center of the waistband, almost like a bow on a present.

Soarynn hadn't wanted to go too overboard with the lingerie, not when she knew that Coriolanus would rip it off in a matter of seconds.

"Your room is very charming," he says, turning around to face her, and Soarynn drinks in every second of his slacked jaw once he lays eyes on her. It's not every day that one gets to see a speechless Coriolanus Snow but Soarynn isn't just anyone. No, she's Mrs. Snow, the First Lady of Panem.

"I'm also quite charming," she replies, clasping her hands behind her back, "in case you forgot."

Coriolanus swallows down the lump in his throat and quickly shakes his head, "No, no, not at all darling, I could never forget how beautiful...how charming you are!"

Soarynn smiles at his flustered behavior and holds a hand out to him, "I'm ready," she tells him, her tone soft and gentle. Coriolanus needn't be told twice, he crosses the room in seconds and his hands immediately come to rest on her waist, "You look magnificent," he mumbles while kissing her shoulder, "if I knew this was under that dress then I would've ripped it off of you the second you started walking down the aisle."

Soarynn gives him a playful shove, scoffing when he smirks, "Are you even capable of saying anything without throwing in such vulgar phrases?"

Coriolanus shrugs, not at all ashamed of his behavior, "No, you'll find I'm rather hopeless when it comes to being alone with you in the bedroom."

Soarynn hums and slides her hands up his chest, resting them on his broad shoulders, "Well I'd say that you're terribly overdressed for an event such as this one," she whispers.

Soarynn helps him take off his suit jacket, also discarding it on the floor while he works on kicking off his black leather shoes. It's both of them fumbling in the dark while trying to kiss each other and get Coriolanus undressed but they manage it quite well. Soarynn goes to unbutton his shirt but she must be taking too long for his liking because Coriolanus just rips it clean down the middle, sending buttons flying everywhere.

"Your shirt," she gasps against his lips.

His hands slide down to her ass, squeezing it, "You like me shirtless," he mumbles, going for his belt next.

Coriolanus gives her a gentle shove and Soarynn falls onto the bed, completely breathless and all they've done is kiss so far. She pops up on her elbows and watches Coriolanus slide his belt out of the belt loops, tossing it onto the floor with a clatter. He looks so handsome, so deliciously large and big in every way possible. His eyes never leave hers as he unzips his pants, sliding them down to show her just how much he really wants her.

Soarynn whimpers at the sight of his cock straining in his boxers. She's well acquainted with how big he feels in her mouth and in her hands but losing her virginity is something else entirely.

Coriolanus grabs her ankle and pulls her to the edge of the bed, causing her to fall back onto her back with a sharp gasp. He leans down over her, resting a hand by her head while his lips capture hers in a very excited kiss. His teeth tug at her bottom lip and his other hand slides down her stomach, leaving a trail of goosebumps behind it.

Soarynn whimpers and wiggles in his touch, causing Coriolanus to crawl onto the bed, resting his knees on either side of her body so he can fully be on top of her while kissing her. Soarynn gives into the kiss wholeheartedly, running her fingers through his golden curls.

His fingers run over her covered cunt, ghosting over her clit before sliding back down to do it all over again. Soarynn moans impatiently, bucking into his head for more contact, more direct contact. Coriolanus fucking laughs into the kiss, teasing her for being so impatient as if he wasn't trying to get her naked in the car.

"Coriolanus," she whispers, tightening her grip on his curls.

He groans into the kiss, "Yes?"

"Hurry up and make love to me."

Soarynn's vulgar yet direct words do something to Coriolanus and spur him into action. He sits up on his knees, looming over her while bringing both hands to her lace panties, admiring them and the details, "A rose," he murmurs, slipping his fingers under the waistband so very slowly, "how cute."

He gently goes to pull down her panties and Soarynn is more than happy to lift up her hips to speed up the process. He slips them off of her ankles and tosses them behind him, long forgotten already. Soarynn watches with bated breath as he pries her legs open with his large hands, his bright blue eyes looking down at her most intimate parts with no shame whatsoever.

"So pretty like always," he says, grabbing her right leg and pulling it up into the air, kissing her thigh, "and so flexible for me."

Soarynn whines, already so flustered and ready to go and yet he's insistent on torturing her. "Coryo," she whimpers, "hurry up." He shoots her a stern look, shaking his head and laying her leg back down, "I'd say I deserve to take my time with you tonight," he tells her, slipping a hand between her legs. Soarynn gasps when she feels his long fingers slipping between her wet folds, "Oh, please."

"Tonight, I plan on making love to you," he tells her, "but tomorrow morning," his lips twist up into a cocky grin, "I plan on fucking you so hard that the only thing you'll remember is my name."

If Soarynn wasn't wet before, she's fucking soaked now.

Soarynn bucks into his hand, desperate to feel something inside of her even though she doesn't know what that feels like yet. She's going to find out very soon. Coriolanus pulls his hand away from her cunt, earning him an annoyed whine from Soarynn which he ignores while grabbing her knees with both hands, pushing them up to her chest, exposing all of her to him.

"You really do have a perfect cunt Soarynn."

Soarynn can only watch as he leans down and begins lapping at her cunt as if he's starving. Soarynn moans, stuck with nowhere to go while her husband eats her out like she's his last meal. Her eyes roll back when she feels his tongue on her clit, using the tip of his tongue to truly pinpoint her most sensitive bud.

"Oh fuck," she whimpers, grasping at the sheets.

Soarynn grinds her cunt against his face, moaning loudly when his nose bumps her clit. He's always had such a nice big nose and she has yet to sit on it.

Coriolanus doesn't let up on her cunt, licking it up and down, side to side, biting her clit from time to time while he brings her closer and closer to her peak. Soarynn is almost there, her moans grow higher in pitch, and then...

He pulls away.

"Are you fucking kidding me?" She snaps, glaring up at him and his arrogant smirk, "I would never kid about fucking you," he smoothly answers, letting go of her knees, "in fact, I'd say it's about time that I fucked you, darling."

He finally goes to pull down his boxers and Soarynn watches his cock spring out from its confinement, red at the tip, long in length and girthy. It might hurt the more that she looks at it.

Coriolanus gets out of his boxers and taps her hip, shaking her from her thoughts about the pain, "Up onto the pillows darling," he instructs her. Soarynn looks up at her headboard where all her fluffy pillows are waiting for her to lay her head down on them, "It seems so far," she mumbles, not really wanting to move. Coriolanus rolls his eyes, and grabs her the waist, picking her up and throwing her to the top of the bed in seconds.

Soarynn squeals once she lands, "That was rude."

Coriolanus chuckles, shaking his head, "It's my fault for letting you become such a pillow princess." Soarynn gasps at the statement, the very true statement but that's beside the point. "I am nothing of the sort," she insists, ignoring the look he gives her, "you simply need to be in control all the time."

Coriolanus grunts and crawls on top of her, resting his hands on either side of her head, caging her in, "I think you like it though," he says lowly, causing her to squeeze her thighs together, "I think you like it when I tell you what to do Soarynn."

"Maybe," she answers in a shaky voice. He grins and presses a kiss to her forehead, "I like it too, I like everything about you."

Soarynn's eyes widen when she feels his knee pushing her legs apart, "Well...well that's good since we're married and all that," she mumbles, suddenly feeling very, very nervous and inexperienced.

Coriolanus picks up on it immediately and adopts a kinder, softer tone, "Yes it is. And that means I get the privilege of being trusted by you to take your virginity, which I plan to do with the utmost care."

She lets out a small sigh of relief, she's never doubted Coriolanus and his ability to be gentle, not when she's seen him with the children. but the bedroom is a different thing, a different mindset.

"Okay," she whispers, staring into his blue eyes, "I'm ready."

Coriolanus leans down to kiss her and this time the kiss is sweet and gentle, patient and kind, not pushy or aggressive like other kisses that they've shared in the past.

"I love you," he says against her lips, slipping his fingers into her carefully styled hair that will be a mess by the end of the night, "no matter what I love you Soarynn."

His words mean more to her than he'll ever know.

"I love you too," she says, not at all afraid to say it anymore. There was a time when she'd only say it when the time was right, when neither of them had dealt with a stressful day and they were lying in the warm bathwater, when everything felt right in the world.

But she's since left that mindset behind, saying it whenever she feels like it.

And she's never felt more in love in her entire life than right now, safely under him.

They stay like that for a while, sharing sweet and patient kisses with one another, not at all in a rush to do what they've both been thinking about for so long. Soarynn is so caught up in the moment that she doesn't even register the tip of his cock brushing against her folds until Coriolanus lets out a low, timber groan. "Oh," she gasps, resting her hands on his shoulders, bracing herself for the inevitable pain of losing one's virginity.

"Tell me if it hurts," he sternly instructs her, resting his forehead against her own. Soarynn can only nod, at a loss for words while experiencing this new sensation. Coriolanus is large all over, not one part of him is small and while it's been very attractive so far, it does pose the difficulty of her first time.

But Coriolanus is slow while pushing in and Soarynn gasps when she feels the tip of his cock brushing against her walls, a new sensation that she welcomes wholeheartedly. She's heard many a tale from her friends about how it feels, how addictive it can become. She never believed them until now.

"Fuck Soarynn," he grits out, "so fucking tight."

Soarynn whimpers as more of him pushes in, the feeling is overwhelming and she has nowhere to go. She squirms under him to try and find a more comfortable position and Coriolanus lets out a strained moan, "Don't," he pants, "don't move yet darling." Soarynn looks up at his face and she can see just how hard he's trying to be gentle, how he's having to actively restrain himself from fucking her as hard as he can.

There seems to be a bump to get over figuratively speaking and Coriolanus gets over it with one sharp jab of his hips, sending waves of pain and pleasure throughout Soarynn's body. She gasps, her back arches off the bed as he fully sinks into her.

Soarynn is no longer a virgin.

"You okay?"

Soarynn closes her eyes while getting used to the foreign feeling of having Coriolanus inside of her, "Mhm."

"Because if something hurts you need to tell me."

Soarynn's toes curl when he slightly leans forward, pushing the tip of his cock against her sweet spot, a spot she didn't even know existed until now, "I know," she mumbles, finding the courage to open her eyes again. Coriolanus is already looking down at her with a fond look in his eyes, a look filled with adoration as if she's the single most important thing in his life.

"I'm fine," she whispers, scratching behind his ear, "perfectly so."

He gives her a lazy smile and leans down to kiss her lips, staying perfectly still which must be quite difficult where his own pleasure is concerned but he doesn't push her at all, "Well you feel amazing," he mumbles against her lips, "we might have to do this every night."

Soarynn laughs, they haven't even moved yet and he's already addicted. No matter how mature or important Coriolanus is, he's a man at the end of the day and Soarynn has learned that for the most part, all men want the same thing.

Sex.

"You can move," she tells him, the pain ebbing away slowly. He gives her a questioning look but Soarynn won't have any of it, they've waited this long. She wraps her left leg around his torso, resting her heel on his back to encourage him which leads him to slide even further inside of her, causing them both to moan, "Please," she breathes, "please Coryo, make love to me."

Coriolanus hums, kissing her once more before slowly dragging his cock out, slowly and teasingly before thrusting back into her. He's figuring out the pace and Soarynn is figuring out what this feels like but sex is something she's never felt before. Coriolanus has gone down on her before but nothing compares to them being connected like this.

She wonders if she's doing good, if she should be doing more. Coriolanus has always taken charge but perhaps he'd like her to take the reigns for once. "Is this okay?" She asks, moving her hips in tandem with his. Coriolanus moans and it sounds heavenly, low, and raspy, "Perfect," he groans, "you're perfect."

Coriolanus starts to move a little bit faster, not by much but enough to make a difference and Soarynn can feel the pleasure starting to take over. "Oh, my," she says, digging her nails into his skin, "oh, fuck."

It feels so fucking good. He's everywhere. Inside of her, on top of her, around her. Coriolanus Snow is an all-consuming entity.

He takes his time with her, whispering sweet phrases, kissing her softly while making her feel so good. Soarynn now understands why people are so crazy about sex, why they can't stop thinking about it. It's amazing that he's been able to wait this long to do this with her.

Coriolanus slips a hand between her legs and thumbs her clit, causing Soarynn to let out a high-pitched moan, "Right there," she tells him, "it feels so good Coryo." He keeps his pace steady and all that can be heard in her bedroom is the sound of skin on skin and heavy breathing.

"So beautiful," he murmurs, sitting up on his knees while continuing to make love to her, "so perfect for me." He grabs her hips and it's a whole new angle, a mind-blowing one at that. Soarynn sees stars as he thrusts into her, he feels so good, so big, there's a slight burn every time he pushes into her but she welcomes the stretch.

"Please," Soarynn whimpers, looking up at her husband, "please, please, please."

"Please what?"

Soarynn attempts to give him a nasty look but Coriolanus only laughs in response, "Telling me what you want is the least you can do," he tells her. He has a point. Soarynn hasn't so much as lifted a finger since they got to the bedroom but she's always been more reserved when it comes to pillow talk.

"Please make me cum," she moans, arching her back for added effect and it seems to work on Coriolanus who switches his pace from slow and measured to slow and deep, making her feel every inch of his cock.

"Fuck Soarynn, you feel so good."

Soarynn thinks they might have sex every single day for the rest of their lives. Maybe even twice a day if they wake up early enough. She wouldn't mind. She'd be terribly sore but she wouldn't mind.

She can feel that wire inside of her starting to tighten, threatening to break and send her over the edge. "I'm close," she whines, grabbing the sheets, "Coryo, please."

Even buried deep inside of her, Coriolanus looks so handsome, so strong, and in control of the situation. He brings his hand back to her clit and Soarynn moans, it all feels like too much, she can feel herself going off the edge, so, so close.

Soarynn's orgasm takes over her entire body when she cums. Her eyes roll back and her back bends off the bed as if she's a puppet on his strings. Soarynn can't even say a single word that makes sense while Coriolanus swears under his breath, praising her for taking him so well. She doesn't even realize that he's finishing right behind her until her walls start to flutter around him again and she feels his cum dripping onto the bed and her thighs.

Coriolanus collapses on top of her, carefully so he doesn't crush her but still close enough to lay butterfly kisses against her neck. Soarynn is wide-eyed while she stares at the ceiling, mindlessly running her fingers through his curls. That was amazing, better than she could have ever imagined.

Coriolanus wraps his arms around her waist and slowly maneuvers them so that he's lying on his back and she's the one on top, still inside of her but soft now. Soarynn rests her head on his chest, exhausted from today's events and tonight's grand finale.

Coriolanus drags his fingers up and down her back and she can feel him fumbling with the clasp of her bralette. He manages to unhook it on the third try and he pulls it off of her, throwing it somewhere to the right. Soarynn relishes the feeling of her breasts against his bare chest, skin on skin.

She can feel his breathing slow down, his heart rate returning to normal while he continues rubbing her back while his other hand grabs hers, lacing their fingers together.

"What a day," he mumbles, his voice laced with sleepiness. Soarynn hums, perfectly content to lie here for the rest of their lives, "That was amazing," she mumbles against his skin and she feels his chest rumble as he laughs. "I had a feeling that you'd like it," he replies, resting his hand on her lower back, "just wait until tomorrow morning, then you'll never be able to get enough."

Soarynn sighs, a life filled with laughter and morning sex sounds perfectly wonderful in her mind. She's a married woman now so those things can be expected. His hand slips out of her hand and slides down her arm, stopping when he reaches the small scar on her bicep, still fading from when she got her birth control implant removed two weeks ago.

Soarynn had been terribly nervous about having the procedure done but she didn't want anything to stop her from getting pregnant. "Maybe I'm already pregnant," she throws out, hoping to manifest a healthy baby inside of her as soon as possible. Coriolanus shifts from under her and drapes the blankets over their naked bodies, "I don't want you pressuring yourself," he tells her sternly, kissing the top of her head, "these things take time darling."

Soarynn merely nods in response, too tired to fight him on the possibility of getting pregnant on their wedding night. But it could happen, she hopes it'll happen sooner than later. She can feel her eyes growing heavy while her breathing syncs to his, in and out, slow and steady.

Happy and loved.

꧁ ꧂

When Soarynn wakes, she's in her childhood bedroom.

It takes her a few seconds to remember how she got here, what happened the day before. She carefully lifts her head off of the pillow, looking down at her sleeping husband. Coriolanus is lying on his side, one arm is slung over her waist while the other is under the pillow her head was lying on. Soarynn doesn't remember anything after falling asleep, doesn't remember if he washed them off or took her makeup off.

She gently places a hand on his cheek, rubbing her thumb back and forth over his porcelain skin, admiring how handsome he looks even while in a deep slumber. His curls are tussled from last night and his lips are slightly parted.

It's hard to believe that he's the President of Panem at only twenty-six.

Soarynn shifts on her side and she feels incredibly sore from the waist down, especially between her legs. Soarynn lifts the sheets and stares down at their tangled legs before lowering the sheets again and her eyes focus on the red stain in the middle of the duvet. She lost her virginity last night. Coriolanus hadn't said anything about the blood but she's sure he was pleased at the confirmation that she wasn't lying about being a virgin.

Soarynn had heard stories about men who were required to report back to their families if their wives bled on their wedding night, a horrifying tradition to Soarynn who sleeps well knowing that Coriolanus doesn't speak of their sexual encounters with anyone. What happens in their bedroom, stays in their bedroom.

Soarynn reaches up to feel that her hair is still somewhat in its perfectly styled bun from last night but Coriolanus has a tendency to ruin any makeup or hairdos when they're rolling around in the sheets. Soarynn sits up, careful not to wake up Coriolanus as she swings her legs over the side of the bed and slowly stands up. Her legs slightly shake and she just knows that he'd be teasing her if he was awake.

Soarynn limps over to her vanity, grabbing his white button-up shirt on the way so that she's not entirely naked. Soarynn takes in her appearance once she's sat in front of the mirror and gasps, her makeup is smudged from sleeping in it and her hair is a rat's nest. She opens the vanity drawer and fishes around for a makeup wipe and a hair brush.

She takes her makeup off first, sighing at the fresh feeling of a bare face. Then she goes to tackle her hair which takes a lot more effort and skill than removing her makeup. There are so many pins in her bun and every time she thinks she's found the last one, she finds another one. Soarynn finally yanks her hair out of the thick hairbands holding it up and a wave of relief washes over her now that she's free from the tight updo.

Soarynn runs the brush through her hair, smoothing out any frizzy pieces while humming to herself. She feels so fucking sore right now and if Coriolanus is a man of his word, then she's going to be even more sore before breakfast. She looks back over at her sleeping husband, tuckered out from sex and getting married.

Then she looks down at her bare thighs and swallows at the sight of dried blood and...something else on her inner thigh. She shakes her head at the sight of it, looks like Coriolanus was too tired to wash either of them off last night. That's alright though, it means that they get to shower together once he wakes up.

She tucks some of her hair behind her ears and stands back up, padding over to his side of the bed where his back is bared to her. Maybe she'll cover it with scratches before the morning is over. He's mentioned in the past how much he loves her long nails on his skin.

Soarynn prides herself in having nice long nails, always painted in a light pearly pink shade, the same shade as her toenails. She's proud of her soft hair and perfectly groomed body. Coriolanus has never mentioned a distaste for body hair but Soarynn prefers to keep her body as hairless as possible, even if that means sharing and waxing regularly.

Soarynn climbs onto the bed after taking off the shirt and slings one leg over his side, somewhat straddling him, "Coryo," she says softly, poking his bicep, "wake up."

No response.

Soarynn huffs, he's usually up by now, already at work but today is a special day and Soarynn doesn't want it to go to waste. So she resorts to a more aggressive method of waking up her husband.

Tickling.

She slips her hand under his armpit and begins her assault, getting her immediate results when his eyes fly open from the sensation he despises. "Hey!" He shouts, still half-asleep while trying to push her off, "Wake up," she giggles, trying to slip her other hand under his arm as well but he catches onto her plan and uses his strength to grab her by the waist and tickle her instead.

Soarynn shrieks with laughter, falling back over to her side while he continues tickling her stomach with no signs of stopping, "Not so fun when the roles are reversed hmm?" He says into her ear, his voice is so low and scratchy in the morning and Soarynn already feels something stirring in her gut.

Soarynn attempts to throw her weight back into him to shove him off but her attempts are futile and Coriolanus easily pins her down to her stomach, using a hand on the small of her back to keep her down while he moves around behind her.

Soarynn struggles in his grip, trying to push herself up but it's no use, Coriolanus will always be stronger than her, a usually terrifying thought where women are concerned but Soarynn has always felt safe with him.

She manages to push her chest off of the bed and looks over her shoulder at her husband who's on his knees, wearing that cocky smirk and her eyes widen at the sight of his cock, hard and ready to be inside of her again, "I believe I promised to fuck you didn't I?" He croons, his tone domineering and sultry.

Soarynn can only nod in response and let him move her body however he wants it. He grabs her hips and hikes them into the air, leaving Soarynn with her ass up in the air and her back arched while her face is pressed into her pillow. Soarynn wiggles her hips in anticipation, if last night was him holding back, she can't wait to feel Coriolanus when he lets loose.

"I wish I could tell you how many times I've imagined you in this position darling," he says, rubbing the tip of his cock up and down her folds. Soarynn whines when the tip rubs against her clit and she can already feel the precum leaking from his cock, "Coryo," she moans, trying to move her hips but he stops her with a slap on the ass. "Be my good girl Soarynn and take it like you should," he tells her, lining up his cock with her entrance before pushing into her cunt.

They both moan at the sensation and her walls wrap around him instantly, "So tight," he says, rubbing her folds as they wrap around his length, "taking me so well, just like you should angel. And you were so good for me last night, bled on my cock just like I knew you would."

His vulgar words make Soarynn's eyes roll back and she moans into the pillow, her walls tremble around him. It feels so different, so much deeper while taking him from behind and she can already tell that he favors this position over any others.

Soarynn's toes curl when she feels him slide all the way in, pressing against her sweet spot in the most possessive way possible, "You look so perfect like this," he tells her, landing another slap to her ass, "giving yourself to me, face down and ass up. I pity the other men in the world who won't get to see this every day like I will."

Soarynn never knew Coriolanus could be so possessive over her but having sex has unlocked a new side of him that she's never experienced before.

"Please," she begs, pushing her hips back against his. They both moan when her ass presses against his hips, making her take every inch of his cock. Coriolanus tightens his grip on her hips and pulls his hips back before snapping them forward in one sharp jab and Soarynn gasps at the new feeling of being fucked from behind.

Coriolanus immediately picks up the pace, fucking her hard and fast while Soarynn moans into the pillows. She's screaming at this point from how good it feels, he's relentless, hitting the same spot every time with accuracy.

"Fuck, fuck, fuck," she moans, grabbing at anything she can find. Coriolanus seems to notice that and he leans over her and grabs her hands, pulling them behind her and holding them against her back, truly leaving her to his mercy.

"I knew you'd like it," he says, "like being my little slut. Does it feel good Soarynn? Does it feel good to know that you're mine now? That every night you'll be stuck on the President's cock like the good little First Lady that you are for me?"

Soarynn has tears in her eyes from the pleasure, she can't even come up with a string of coherent words right now, let alone answer his taunting question. He starts going even faster if that's possible and Soarynn is so past the point of pleasure right now, she's somewhere in the middle of life and death from how hard he's fucking her.

"Taking me so well," he praises with a raspy voice, "you look so pretty like this, can't even use that pretty little head of yours to think can you angel?" Soarynn whimpers and tries to lift up her head to answer him but she fails miserably and falls back into the pillow, her moans muffled. He's right about one thing, she doesn't have a single thought in her pretty little head. He's consumed her every breath, all she can think about is Coriolanus Snow.

But then she feels it, that wonderful sensation that means she's about to reach her peak. She got here much quicker than she did last night but he's also moving much quicker than last night too.

Soarynn can't even speak, only moans leave her mouth as she cums, her walls flutter around his cock while he thrusts into her at a punishing pace. It's fucking mind-numbing and he's not even done yet.

"Good girl," he says, slipping a hand down to her clit, rubbing it in tight circles despite how sensitive she is from her orgasm, "now give me one more."

Soarynn sobs into the pillow, she can't even think let alone give him another orgasm.

"I...I can't," she cries, struggling in his hold.

Coriolanus fucks her even harder and faster, "You can and you will," he tells her, "my good girl always does what she'd told, doesn't she Soarynn?"

He's using her weaknesses against her, her need to be perfect, to always be good for him and it's about to make her cum again so maybe he's onto something here.

Her walls start to flutter again, that wire inside of her is insanely tight while he rubs her clit and fucks her, all she can hear are her muffled whimpers and his groans of pleasure before she tumbles over the edge again, this time with a silent scream while her body goes limp in his hold. Soarynn can't speak, can't breathe as her orgasm hits her like a truck, she feels something trickle down her leg, did she squirt?

She can't even find it in herself to care right now.

Coriolanus continues to fuck her and she can feel his thrusts stuttering a telltale sign that he's close as well. Soarynn can only lie there and take it when he finishes deep inside of her, coating her walls with his cum. Coriolanus lets out a deep, throaty moan and pushes her back further into the mattress, "Just like that," he pants, "take me just like that Soarynn."

Soarynn is in a state of bliss while Coriolanus continues to talk to her, not hearing a single thing he says while she drifts off into a headspace she's never been in before. She can feel him lifting up her hips as he pulls out of her, she feels strangely empty without him inside of her. Soarynn can feel his fingers pulling apart her folds and she hears him swear under his breath at the sight of her cunt filled with his cum, a sight he probably would love to see every day if he could.

Soarynn sighs and her entire body slumps forward, the sleep taking over her body as her eyes drift shut. The last thing she hears is Coriolanus murmuring a few words of praise while rubbing her back, "...such a good girl for me..."

Everything goes black.

꧁ ꧂

Soarynn must be dreaming. She feels like she's floating on air or drifting through water.

Then she feels something, a hand, someone's hand sliding down her stomach towards her thighs. She feels the hand touch her most intimate parts and she wakes with a start, gasping while the bathwater splashes around her.

Coriolanus sits in front of her, an amused look in his bright eyes, "I promise I'm only cleaning you off," he assures her, his lips twitch into a lazy grin and Soarynn immediately relaxes. She looks around her bathroom, noting how brightly the sun shines through the windows.

Did she fall asleep after they had sex in the morning?

"I...how long was I asleep?" She asks, rubbing her eyes in hopes of waking up faster. Coriolanus slides his hand down her leg, stopping once he reaches her ankle, "A couple hours," he says with a shrug, "I guess I fucked you a little too hard." Soarynn scoffs, splashing some water in his face which earns her a teasing laugh, "Hardly," she retorts even though they both know she's lying.

His grin turns into the smirk that she's associated with vulgar comments and touchiness and he pulls her towards him by her ankle until they're face to face, inches apart, "Guess what I learned about you today."

Soarynn doesn't know if she's going to like hearing his answer.

"What?" She asks, begrudgingly taking his bait. Coriolanus shows all his pearly white teeth when he smiles, "I learned that my darling little wife can squirt when I fuck her really well."

Soarynn groans and covers her face with her hands, mortified by his recent discovery. Coriolanus finds nothing wrong with this apparently and grabs her wrists tugging her hands away from her face, "Don't hide from me darling, I've only just begun discovering the wonders of your body."

Soarynn wants to drown. She might as well try. She sinks below the water and stays submerged for about five seconds before two strong hands pull her above the surface, "Face your fears," he says with a laugh, squeezing her waist so gently compared to how rough he was hours ago.

Soarynn squints at him through her water-covered lashes, "But I'm not afraid of you." His face softens and she swears she can see relief hidden in his eyes, "Well that's good, I don't ever want you to be afraid of me, or of being intimate with me." Soarynn bites her lip, she saw a whole new side of her husband today, rougher, louder, stronger. Not at all the Coriolanus she's come to know over the past year.

"I'm not," she tells him softly, truly meaning her words, "and it was good, the sex was good," she elaborates, her cheeks turning pink, "it felt good, all of it."

Coriolanus chuckles, brushing some of her wet hair out from her face before leaning in to press a soft gentle kiss to her lips, "I'm glad you enjoyed it. You did very well, you trusted me and trust is everything to me." Soarynn nods along to his words, trust is everything to her as well, without it, they wouldn't be here right now.

"Promise me one thing Soarynn," he starts, pulling her into his chest so she can rest her head against him. "Anything," she murmurs, sinking further into his strong grip, "anything at all."

He deeply sighs, dragging his fingers up and down her side, "Never lie to me. I can forgive a lot of things but I despise lying, the children can testify to that as well. Never ever lie to me and I promise to give you everything your precious heart desires."

His words sink deep within her soul. Soarynn doesn't really lie, she doesn't enjoy it and she's not very good at it but she can sense the urgency behind his voice. Perhaps Livia lied to him and it ended badly for them. Well, not that anything can be worse than death but still, it must mean a lot to him. Or maybe it was Lucy Gray who created his hatred for lying.

Either way, Soarynn doesn't plan on being dishonest with her husband.

"You have my word," she tells him, lifting her hand and holding out her pinky, "I'll only tell you the truth and nothing but the truth."

Coriolanus hums, resting his chin on top of her head as he wraps his pinky around hers, sealing the promise.

After that, they talk about small, insignificant things while Coriolanus washes them off, a perfectly domestic feeling.

Soarynn feels herself falling asleep again but she's not worried, for she has a husband who will take care of her and protect her. Mind, body, and soul.

| Part 13. |

| tumblr oneshot/drabble |

{ Part 14. }

| taglist: @strawberriicakes @wonderlandbound111 @villiansarehottest @thevoicesinmyprettylittlehead @kickmybark @melodyoflovee |

[roosterforme]

The Curveball Part 4 | Bob Floyd x OC

Summary: Bob ends up on thin ice with Molly after Bradley ends up on thin ice with her sister. But all he can think about is the perfect night he spent with her and how he'd be crushed if he didn't get a chance to do it all again. 

Warnings: Fluff, angst, 18+

Length: 5300 words

Pairing: Robert "Bob" Floyd x Female OC (this story accompanies Batting Practice!)

Check my masterlist for more! The Curveball masterlist

Thank you to @mak-32 and @teacupsandtopgun for the beautiful banners!

Bob was trying his best to be in the moment at the Hard Deck, since he was the one who invited Molly's sister out for a drink. He wanted to say thank you for all the hard work she put in while Bradley was away. But he was so distracted. 

Molly had spent the entire day sending him selfies while she was at work, and some of them were definitely rated mature. Bob had almost broken his phone earlier trying to minimize a photo of Molly's pierced nipples when Coyote walked over to him. She had snapped the photo of herself in the bathroom at the hospital when she was on break along with the caption I miss you, Bobby <3

The little heart at the end reminded him that he had already said he loved her. He assumed she hadn't heard him, but it made him blush just the same. And now he was at the bar with her sister and Bradley, which should have been fun, but he just wanted to get home and see Molly. 

Bob watched Nat and Jake both relentlessly flirt with Team Mom, but there was no way she had eyes for anyone except Bradley. And then he wondered what it would be like if he brought Molly here. He wanted to, because he already wanted to be with her all the time. But...Bob looked around at all the guys, and that feeling of self doubt was back. Jake was handsome and charming, and probably the kind of guy Molly was used to being with. 

When Nat offered to buy a drink for Team Mom, Bob cut her off, glad for the distraction. "No, it's on me! It's the least I can do since you gave up so much of your time this week to fill in for Bradley. What do you like?" And while he was up at the bar, waiting patiently for Penny to fill his order, Molly's sister ran out of the bar, followed closely by Bradley. 

"What happened?" Bob asked, holding two beers while Jake rubbed his forehead with his fingers. He mumbled a response and walked away, but when Bradley finally came back inside, he looked like he was ready to kill Jake. 

And then the barrage of text messages from Molly came through. Bob's eyes went wide as he read them.

Are you aware that your buddy Bradley is actually a fucking dickhead? I can't BELIEVE what he did to my sister! 

Seriously, Bob. Why didn't you warn my sister about him?! What the fuck! He called Everett baggage!

Please tell me you're not like him!

You know what? Maybe I don't want to find out. 

Bob called her immediately, but she didn't answer. When he got her voicemail, he said, "Mo, please call me back so we can talk, okay? I don't think Bradley meant any of what he said. He's not a bad guy. And I... don't think I could ever do anything to hurt you." He contemplated telling her he loved her again, but he ended the call before he could. 

He was already home for the night when he got one last text from her.

I'm not coming over. 

Bob collapsed in his bed, raking his fingers through his hair, wondering if this, of all things, was what would cost him his chance with her.

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

Molly was having a wonderful evening with Everett. They painted huge masterpieces on poster boards and left all the messy brushes in the kitchen sink. Molly secretly loved leaving an innocuous mess for her sister to clean up in her otherwise spotless house. It kept her on her toes. 

"Movie time? With ice cream?" she asked Everett, checking the time. Of course she'd let him stay up late. That's just what aunts did. 

"There's ice cream?!" he shouted, sprinting back into the kitchen.

"Of course there's ice cream," she replied, kneeling in front of the freezer. "I know all of your mom's secrets. She thinks she's so sneaky, but you can't get anything past me." After removing all the healthy, pre portioned frozen dinners, Molly hit the jackpot. There was a gallon of fudge ripple and a gallon of vanilla raspberry. "See?" she asked Everett, holding them both up.

"Fudge ripple! Fudge ripple! Fudge ripple!" he chanted, and soon they were watching a PG-13 movie with two spoons stuck in the ice cream carton. 

"Want some more?" she asked, passing the carton to him.

He took a bite and said, "I don't think my mom wanted me to watch this movie."

Molly sighed and shook her head. "I'll cover your eyes for the scary parts, okay?"

"Okay!" he agreed.

Molly took a few more bites before she asked him, "You like Coach Bob, right?"

"Oh yeah, like a whole lot," he replied. "Almost as much as I like Coach Bradley."

"That's a lot," Molly muttered. "I like him, too." She was smiling as Everett looked at her. 

"You should probably marry him," he said seriously. "I heard my mom say that Coach Bob is smart and nice and that she never thought you could do so well."

Molly scoffed and rolled her eyes. "That sounds exactly like something your mom would say, and that's exactly why we are eating her overpriced ice cream without her. Now close your eyes for the scary part."

About twenty minutes later, Everett was sound asleep on her lap while she finished the ice cream. Then she carried him up to bed, starting to get a little nervous that her sister would be back soon. She tucked him in, turned on his nightlight, and then hightailed it back to the kitchen to hide the evidence of the empty ice cream carton. 

But when she got home, Molly could tell something was wrong and went right into protective jungle cat mode. "What happened?" she asked softly as soon as she saw her sister's tear streaked cheeks and quivering lips.

After a few minutes of being held in Molly's arms, she was able to whisper, "Bradley told all of his friends that he'd never date me, because I have baggage."

"That fucking prick. Does Bob know about this?"

"Probably," she said softly against Molly's shoulder. "He must."

"I'll call him right now," Molly said vehemently. 

"No, please don't. You had an immaculate first solo date with him last night which ended in a hot makeout session. I don't want the three ring circus that is my life to start messing up yours."

It had been more than a makeout session, but Molly wasn't going to correct her. She was so into Bob after being intimate with him, that she was devastated now. Because Molly knew she would ditch him in an instant, even if it would hurt, in order to support her family. 

Molly kissed her sister's cheek and promised, "Your life is not a three ring circus. And Everett is not baggage. And Bradley isn't worth your time if that's what he thinks. Now let me help you get changed for bed."

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

Bob barely slept, and he was wide awake before his alarm went off on Saturday morning for the tee ball game. He hadn't heard another word from Molly. Even if she wanted to yell over the phone, he would have loved to hear her voice. 

When he arrived at the ballfield, Bradley was already there. "You look like shit," Bob told him, and he could hear the disappointment in his own voice. 

Bradley closed his eyes briefly. "I feel worse. Promise."

"Did you talk to her?" Bob asked. Bradley didn't hang around at the bar last night after things blew up, so Bob really wasn't sure exactly how bad it was.

"She doesn't want to talk to me. I'm such an idiot."

Bob just kind of shrugged as he set things up for their game against the Tiny Blue Jays. "Molly is angry, too," Bob informed him. "She's barely texted me back since yesterday."

Now Bradley looked sincerely upset on Bob's behalf. "I'm so sorry."

"I'll figure it out," Bob mumbled. "And you need to apologize to Team Mom until she forgives you. Did you tell her that you said all of that stuff a long time ago? You barely even knew her then."

"Yeah, but I still said it," Bradley replied, rubbing his eyes with his fingertips. "And between the slap to my face and the valid points she was yelling at me, I didn't get a chance to try to explain myself. But she's not going to want to hear it anyway."

Then Bob felt his heart lurch as he looked up toward the parking lot and saw Molly and Everett headed his way. "I'll be right back," he mumbled and headed for her immediately. 

Everett ran past him, calling out, "Hi, Coach Bob!" before continuing on to Bradley. But Bob had his sights set on Molly and her beautiful face filled with indignant anger.

"Molly," he gasped, wanting to reach for her as she came stomping to a halt in front of him. She was glorious. God, he was in love with her.

"Tell me you knew," she demanded. "Tell me you knew Bradley was trying to play my sister." She was practically vibrating with concealed rage now. "Tell me you fucking knew he doesn't deserve to breathe the same air as them."

Bob swallowed hard, and her eyes flashed. "Molly, he loves them. I don't think he would do or say anything to intentionally hurt either of them." 

"He has a sick way of showing it," she spat. "He called Everett baggage."

Bob held his forehead in his hands. "I think Bradley just needs to talk to her. He's so crazy about them, he's really beating himself up."

Bob watched Molly glance past him to glare at Bradley while he helped Everett get ready for the game. "He can rot," she said, but her voice was softer now. "And so can you if you agree with what he said." 

"I don't," he promised. "Please, Molly. I...I missed you yesterday as soon as I dropped you off at your car. I missed you all night. I missed texting with you until one of us fell asleep."

She looked up at him, eyes searching his face. She muttered, "I missed you, too," and then she was heading toward the bleachers. 

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

Molly was finding it hard to keep giving Bob the cold shoulder after another day. She was spending a lot of her time with her sister and nephew, sleeping over there and taking Everett out to keep him entertained.

She didn't feel any better after she blew up at Bradley. In fact Molly felt worse, because she sensed that Bradley really was sincere in the way he just wanted to apologize. And he clearly doted on Everett. Maybe he really did just want a chance to apologize, but Molly knew her sister wasn't ready to listen yet.

Her phone went off, and she reached for it while she was making coffee at her place late on Sunday morning. 

Coach Cute Glasses: I miss you, Molly. 

She groaned; the gas station flowers were in the vase right next to her, and she was trying not to look at them. Casey never did anything like give Molly flowers. He'd given her some hickeys and exactly two orgasms. But he also hadn't been friends with anyone who hurt her sister. 

She moaned helplessly. Her body was betraying her. She wanted to spend another night curled up with Bob, all warm and protected. She wanted to feel his even breathing and listen to his soft voice as she fell asleep. "Damn it," she whined, typing out a message to him.

Miss you, too. Any chance I'm still invited to your place? 

Molly was weak for Bob. She knew that already. Just one night with him, and she was constantly daydreaming about him at work. His rough hands. And how sweet he was. And how he wanted to be exclusive with her already. And his big cock. 

Coach Cute Glasses: You are always invited. Please, Molly, anytime. Do you want to spend the night with me? 

Molly snorted as she read the text, but another one was already coming through.  

Coach Cute Glasses: I didn't mean that the way it probably sounded! I'd just love to see you. I would be so happy if you wanted to come by, and even happier if you wanted to stay with me all night. I liked how it felt to wake up in bed with you. 

Molly tucked her phone into the pocket of her scrubs. He could wait it out for a bit. That sort of thing was good for a man. Especially one who was that eager to see you. But by the time she parked at the hospital, she texted him back. 

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

Bob was in such a panic. Molly was coming over. And he wasn't sure if she was upset with him or just Bradley. He wasn't sure if she was planning on staying over. 

"I'm sorry," Bradley told him for the hundredth time when he called him. "I'm sorry if I blew it for you."

"I'm going to talk to Molly in a few hours," Bob said, rushing through the parking lot to his truck. He was running around, grocery shopping, trying to distract himself. 

"Can you tell her I miss her sister and Ev?" Bradley asked.

"I'll try," Bob promised as he got into his truck and ended the call.

Molly worked until 8 o'clock. He had a few hours to kill before he'd see her, so he wasn't quite sure why he was rushing. Then he stopped for more gas station flowers and cleaned his already spotless condo. He tried to eat dinner, but he couldn't stomach anything except toast. And when he finally heard her ringing the intercom button, he ran to answer it.

"It's Molly," she said softly, and he quickly let her into the building. He stood with his front door open, and a minute later, there she was. She had changed after work, and she looked stunning. No make-up at all and just some jeans and a crop top, but Bob felt suddenly short of breath. He wanted to run his hand along the flower tattoos on her side, and kiss her there too. 

"Molly," he whispered, fighting the urge to blurt out another I love you. He needed to keep it together right now. "Come in."

She walked past him and looked slowly around his living room and dining room while he closed and locked his door. He didn't have a lot of stuff, and suddenly he felt a little ridiculous that his place was so sparse. 

"Very clean," she muttered, her voice and clothing filling the space with so much color and warmth as she examined the gas station flowers. "I wouldn't know how to keep up with it," she said, turning and smiling softly at him. 

"I missed you," he blurted out, and her smile grew.

"Tell me more," she demanded, turning to fully face him. 

Bob swallowed and took a few seconds to gather his thoughts. He was afraid he was going to stutter or say something stupid, but Molly just smiled at him, her all-knowing eyes gentle on his face as she waited.

"I...can't get you out of my mind. I called the runway attendant Molly by accident earlier, because I was thinking about you. Phoenix, my pilot, will never let me live it down."

Molly's laughter had him taking a step closer. "Tell me more," she said, also taking a step toward him. 

"I can't stand the thought of you being upset with me," he said sincerely. He ducked his head and added, "Thursday evening was one of the best nights of my life. Because I spent it with you." He paused, finally daring to meet her eyes.

"Oh, keep going," she said with a nod. "You're doing great."

"I want you to believe I'd never be friends with Bradley if I didn't think he was a good person. And I think he just got a little mixed up. Your sister and nephew really threw him for a loop, you know? But he really loves them."

Molly hummed and shrugged. "I guess I could relay that message to my sister. But I also have a message from me to you."

Bob took a deep breath. "What is it?"

"I missed you, too. I can't stop thinking about you either. And Thursday night and Friday morning, you were so sweet to me, I just want more." Then she kissed his chin and took his hands in hers. "I want you to touch me."

Bob pulled her close as she placed his hands at her waist. He would never get used to being around her, not as easily as she seemed to already know how he operated. She looked up at him, gaze open and earnest. Soft fingers gliding up his arms, tucking into the short sleeves of his tee shirt and gently squeezing his biceps. She placed three soft kisses to the corner of his lips, and he was done. He had to fight the invading thoughts of her nipple piercings and the way her body feels and looks when she's whining for him in her bed beneath him.

"Molly," he begged, but he wasn't sure what he was begging for. 

"Bobby?" she asked softly, pushing one hand through his hair and keeping his gaze focused on her. "I think I need you to fuck me."

"Oh," he groaned, turning her and pushing her back against the wall. He caged her in, and she looked absolutely delighted. 

"If you want to." Her voice was soft and sweet, and her gaze was anything but.

"Honey," Bob managed between ragged breaths as she let her hands come to rest on his abs. She was messing with him. Messing him up completely. She knew exactly what she was doing, but meanwhile, Bob was new to this game. But he was a quick study. A fast learner. 

So when Molly licked her lips and pouted, saying, "You don't want me Bobby? I thought you wanted to be the only one," he was ready for her. 

He wedged one thigh up between her legs, and she gasped. Then his mouth was on hers, rough and demanding. She was grabbing for his shoulders, rubbing herself all over him. He could feel her teeth, digging into his bottom lip, not hard, but definitely not soft. When she released him, she licked his lips until her tongue was in his mouth. 

Bob was rock hard, and try as he may to keep control in this moment, he couldn't. Because Molly was stroking him through his pants and tasting his mouth. Her nose was rubbing along his as she whispered, "Do you want me, Bobby?"

He reached down, wrapping both of his hands around the backs of her thighs and hoisted her up into his arms. Then her lips were on his neck and her arms were wrapped around him as he took her to his bedroom. She was on her back on his bed, kicking her shoes off while her little top rode up so Bob could see the soft undersides of her breasts. There was too much to admire here, and he froze up. 

When Molly's hands found the zipper of her jeans, she whispered. "I want you to say it, Bobby. I want you to tell me everything you plan to do to me." And then her hand was slipping inside her underwear, and she was stroking herself as he watched. 

"Mo," his voice was hoarse. He pushed her knees apart and settled between her legs, bending to kiss her wrist before pulling her hand free of her jeans. "I want to put my mouth on you."

The smile that curled along her lips as she started to shimmy out of her jeans and underwear should have made him a little nervous, but he was beyond help. Her bare pussy was right there, and she smelled so good. As soon as her jeans hit his floor, Bob's face was buried in her. 

"Alright, Lieutenant Floyd," she moaned softly. "Okay." And to Bob's delight and dismay, Molly's hands were on her own breasts, pushing her shirt up and playing with her piercings. She tasted so good as he ran his tongue through her wetness and sucked on her clit. But soon he was rutting into the bed, the sight of her fingers on those little barbells spurring him on. 

When Bob slipped his tongue inside her, Molly's back arched off the bed as she started whining for him. "Bobby, I want your big cock." He grunted in response, willing to give her anything in this moment, and shocked by how much he liked her dirty talk. 

He worked the zipper over his painfully hard erection and scrambled to get himself free. And then he was rocking into her at the same time he got his mouth on her nipples. 

"Yes," she hissed softly, head tipped back with a soft giggle on her lips. He was fucking her, and it felt just as perfect as it had a few days previously. Like her whole body was made for him. Like every response from her perfect lips was just what he needed to hear. "So fucking big."

He pushed those little, silver barbells around with his teeth and tongue, tugging a little bit until Molly was gasping his name. When he sucked harder on her nipples, she was screaming for him. And when she came on his cock, holding his face against her breasts and shaking beneath him, Bob could hardly believe he'd been able to make her orgasm again. 

"Molly," he gasped. "I love the way you shake."

"Oh my god," she moaned as he fucked her through her little tremors. But then she was sitting up, kissing his face, and Bob slipped out of her perfect warmth as she moved to kneel on his floor.

"What are you doing?" he whispered as she guided him to sit on the edge of the bed. She pulled her shirt over her head, and ran her hands up over his thighs. Bob's pants were pulled down to his knees, and Molly pushed them to his ankles before wrapping her pretty lips around his cock. She settled in between his legs, and Bob could only stare at her and try to memorize the obscene sounds they made together. 

Molly was good at this. She was good at everything. Bob tried to keep up, but her mouth felt too perfect. And then she popped up onto her knees and started running the tip of his cock along those pretty piercings. "Molly!"

"You like that?" she asked coyly, but Bob was hypnotized by the look and feel of the barbells on his erection. With a soft groan, Molly squeezed her perfect breasts together, sandwiching Bob between them. He thrust himself up closer to her mouth, and sure enough, she parted her pretty lips and licked him. Bob continued to do this until he was grunting and Molly's saliva was dripping down her chest, making the sensations even more spectacular for him. 

Slick saliva, wet breasts and Molly's mouth. "Oh!" he grunted, stroking her cheek with his knuckles as she sucked on him. But when she took his tightening balls in her soft hand and gave him a little squeeze, Bob came hard, without any warning. He watched in alarm as his cum spurted all over her lips and cheeks while she giggled. Molly jerked him off until he was gasping for air and wishing he had enough in him to coat her whole body, because it looked that pretty.

She licked her lips and opened her eyes, and Bob watched as his cum dripped down from her eyelashes, along her cheek and landed on her nipple piercing. Molly took his hand in hers and ran his fingers through the mess before guiding his hand up to her lips. She tasted him there and ran her tongue between his long fingers and across his palm. 

"You made the mess," she whispered before sucking on his thumb for a beat. "Now you have to help me clean up."

"Gladly," he promised, nearly rocketing off the bed as she set his hand on her breast. Bob used his wet thumb to collect his cum from her piercing and then he let her take his hand between her lips again. But then he was on the floor with her, pushing her gently onto her back as she laughed. 

"What are you doing?" she asked, but the words died on her lips when Bob licked his own cum off of her chest before kissing her and letting her taste it. He held both of her wrists in his hands above her head, and he was treated to the sights and sounds of Molly. She was rubbing her pussy along his soft length as she licked his cum from his mouth, and Bob just enjoyed making out with her on the floor. Everything tasted like him and smelled like Molly, and he listened to her soft laughter. 

His hands and shirt were a mess of cum, and Molly's pretty face absolutely lit up for him when he whispered, "I like the way I taste on your skin."

"Bobby. You fucking deviant," she moaned, taking his face between her slightly sticky palms and leaning up to kiss his lips. She wrapped one leg around his waist to keep his body against hers, and Bob let his cheek come to rest on her chest. He'd never been called anything close to that before, but he could tell he'd lose himself in the moment with Molly over and over again like this if she'd keep letting him. 

And then he blurted out, "You're not mad at me then?" while she combed her fingers through his hair. 

She hummed in contemplation. "No, I'm not mad at you, Coach Bob. I'm pissed off at Bradley, and I'm trying to protect my family. But I'm not mad at you."

Bob sighed in relief and ran his fingers along her pretty tattoo. He had found it actually painful the way she'd been avoiding talking to him, but he could see where she was coming from. 

"That makes me happy. And I can understand you wanting to protect them. They are where your loyalty lies."

"Don't fuck with my family," she whispered softly as she turned her head, and Bob glanced up at her as she swiped at her eyes. "I hardly have any left."

Bob could sense that she wanted him to change the subject, so he kissed her soft skin and said, "I like your tattoos."

She laughed sardonically and said, "Thanks."

"Did you get the carnation tattoos because it's your favorite flower?" he asked, running his index finger along the colorful ink.

"No," she told him. She was quiet for a moment, and Bob started sweating before she asked, "Did you know that there are different flowers that coordinate with your birth month?" 

Bob had heard of this before. "Sure," he told her, wondering where she was going with this. 

Her voice sounded a little rough, but her fingers were still soft in his hair as she said, "My parents were both born in January. Carnations were their birth flowers. That's why I have the tattoo. And kind of why I love the gas station flowers."

"Oh," Bob said, about to add that she didn't need to talk about it if she didn't want to. But then she rolled a little closer to him as he sat up, and she pointed to the other three flowers mixed in.

"The morning glory is for my sister's birthday. The chrysanthemum is mine. And the pretty red rose is for Everett's birthday in June. I got that one the day after he was born. It's actually my favorite one."

"It's beautiful," Bob told her, running his thumb along the chrysanthemum and meeting her eyes. 

"Listen," she told him, kissing the tip of his nose. "I'm protective of my sister. She took care of me when our parents both died. I moved in with her while she finished college. She shared her bed with me and made sure I ate. She sold my parent's house and gave me most of the money to pay for nursing school and a new, reliable car. And the fact that I can occasionally help her out a little bit now is really important to me. So if you think I need to castrate Bradley, you should probably just tell me now, okay?"

Bob laughed in spite of himself. "Maybe a kick to the nuts, but castration is probably not necessary, Honey. He's beating himself up enough, I can tell you that much. And I honestly think Bradley would jump in front of a moving car for Everett." 

"See, now that's what I like to hear," she told him, sitting up and draping her arms around him. Her skin was a little sticky from his cum, and Bob let her push him back until he was laying on the floor underneath her this time. She settled her chin in his chest and looked up at him. "Now tell me when your birthday is, Lieutenant Cute Glasses. I want to know how your flower would look in my tattoo bouquet."

Bob could feel his cheeks warming up. She wanted to know what a tattoo in his honor would look like on her perfect skin. And now she was just lounging right there on him, naked as the day she was born and just completely flawless. And she was waiting, just like she always did. Waiting until he was ready to say what he was thinking, but never rushing him.

He laughed softly and shook his head. "I have the most embarrassing birthday," he told her, and she cocked her head to the side. 

"Oh," she sighed. "April twentieth?" 

"No," he told her. "Worse. Leap day. February 29th."

"Oh! No, that's such a good one, Bob!" she insisted. "And your flower would be a violet. So pretty!"

But he just kept shaking his head. "Mo, you don't understand, Honey."

"Then explain it to me," she whispered, kissing his chest and stroking his skin. 

"My name is Bob. B O B. Bob. I got the nickname Baby On Board during flight training a decade ago, because I was technically five years old...."

She blinked at him a few times before she burst into laughter. Bob waited while Molly rolled around on the floor, gripping her sides and gasping for air. "And technically how old are you now?" she managed to ask through her laughter.

Bob waited until she calmed down a bit more. "Eight."

"Eight!" she screeched. "Don't say that to me! We've had sex!" Her laughter had Bob chuckling too now. "How old would you be if you had a birthday every year?" she asked, eyes wide as she giggled.

"Thirty two."

"Thirty two! Perfect," she sighed, wiping tears of laughter from her eyes. "I'm not going to get arrested then."

Bob rolled his eyes and whispered, "I think a new flower would look pretty good in your bouquet."

And now Bob was thinking about a violet tattoo on her skin next to the other pretty flowers as Molly curled up on his bedroom floor with her arm wrapped around him. 

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

Bob without Molly....it just doesn't make sense. Thanks to @mak-32 and @beyondthesefourwalls and everyone who bugged me to make Molly and Bob a thing!

PART 5

@theamuz

@thedroneranger

@cherrycola27

@katiedid-3

@bradshawsbitch

@je-suis-prest-rachel

@callsign-magnolia

@t-nd-rfoot

@wkndwlff

@eddiemunsonreader

@wintercap89

@the-fever-of-mankind

@yanna-banana

@lovingperfectionsblog

@daisydont-lie

@sappy-seresin

@birdy-bat-writes

@cutelittlefakejourneys

@cottagecori

@fandom-princess-forevermore

@sotalife

@shrimping-for-all

@xoxabs88xox

@rileyanntoinette

@mannsachds

@midnightmagpiemama

@greatszu

@zetasaturno99

@chicomonks

@taytaylala12

@captain-fandomwriter58

@grxcisxhy-wp

@hobireasns

@wolfquake23

@ohgodnotagainn

@toobouquet

@paintlavillered

@seitmai

@tigermoon3

@noonenuts

@amiets2

[putellas14]

Mapi- "Go to sleep, I will not leave you alone."

content warning: R is a war time reporter assigned to Ukraine

It had been five months since you'd been home. Your job as a journalist for one of the largest news outlets in Spain had sent you to Ukraine to cover the war. The assignment wasn't officially over but they were pulling you out over growing safety concerns. Although you were desperately scared, you didn't want to go home yet. There was still so much news to cover and if you went home, then no one from Spain would be left there to report on what was happening.

They had arranged transport for you the day after notifying you. Which had left you very little time to finish documenting everything you needed for the story you were writing. You worked all night, meeting with different officials and witnesses. And by the morning, you felt mildly confident that you had enough information to write your next piece.

You knew it was nowhere near sufficient, though. All the Ukranian people would be left behind with no option to evacuate with you. And that was something that had begun causing you heartache as soon as you'd read the email you were going home.

The plane ride home was one of the longest flights you'd ever been on. Everyone was completely silent, lost in their own heads processing the last five months and trying to figure out what comes next. Processing how they would return to normal life.

Your team rode in a bus to the office. It was the middle of the work day but your boss had told you all to go home and get some rest.

Your heart started beating a little faster when you saw the familiar car in the lot. And the brunette leaning back against it, arms folded. You'd texted Maria this morning to let her know you'd made it on the plane and you'd see her at home after her training was over. Frowning, you looked down at yourself. Your clothes were wrinkled and hadn't been washed in a few days. You hair was an absolute mess. You smelled slightly from the flight.

But when she spotted you through the window of the bus and smiled brightly up at you, none of that mattered. You waited impatiently to get off the bus. Crossing to her quickly, you collapsed against her, your arms tight around her neck.

"Welcome home, my love," she whispered into your neck.

"I missed you," you said before kissing her. Leaning back, you ran a hand through her hair. "I like your hair."

"Let's get you home," she added. She kissed your cheek before bending down for your bag.

At home, you ate a snack, marveling at how amazing it tasted before passing out on the bed. In month two, your hotel had been bombed and since then, you'd been sleeping on a broken cot in a crowded basement with a bunch of other reporters, never sure when your next substantial meal would come.

It was dark outside when you awoke. Maria had laid a sweater at the foot of the bed for you. Smiling at it, you pulled it on, appreciating her thoughtfulness. It was something small but it meant a lot to you.

You found her in the living room, playing with one of the three cats the two of you had adopted last year. "He's gotten so big," you said after watching her from the doorway for a minute.

She looked up at you, smiling. "How was your sleep?" She held her hand out to you.

"Weird to sleep in a bed," you answered, crossing the room to take her hand and sit down on the floor. "It's going to take some getting used to." The black cat crawled up into your lap. "Hola, mi gordito," you whispered, giving him pets.

"They missed you. They'd wait at the front door after I came in, hoping you'd come in behind me."

"That's really sweet," you said. Leaning down, you kissed the top of the cat's head. You snuggled him close for a few minutes before he jumped out of her arms to curl at your feet.

Mapi watched the entire interaction with soft eyes. She'd missed you. Your presence. Your scent. Your loving nature. Even with all the cats, the house had seemed empty. Clearing her throat, she said, "I've got the potatoes boiling. Figured I'd make your favorites for dinner. Probably been a while since you've eaten any of them."

"Thank you, amor."

"I was thinking about getting a run in before we eat. Do you want to come?"

You felt awful but a run would help. You couldn't remember the last time you had been on a run for exercise. Your boss had essentially forbidden leaving for anything non-work related. "I might be a little slow to keep up with you," you admitted shyly.

"You set the pace, babe," she said, reaching over to take your hand. "I'll run with you."

You squeezed her hand and gave her a small smile, grateful to have someone next to you that was as sweet as Maria. And she was true to her word. During the run if her stride starting getting too long, she pulled herself back. She always let you lead.

And in the shower afterwards, she let you lead the slow dance to relearn each other's bodies.

You were quiet through dinner, Mapi knew it. But she filled the space. She let you be as quiet as you needed to be. She gave you everything that you needed that night. She held you on the couch afterwards, running her hands slowly through your hair. The tv was on low in the corner. She whispered sweet words in your ears and made sure you knew how missed you had been. Your emotions got the better of you at one point and tears had filled your eyes. You tried to hide them but she saw and gave you soft kisses in response.

Everything was fine until it was time for bed. Until you laid down in bed and she turned out the light. The dark. The dark was the worst time over there. During the day, you could see. More people were around. At night, it was dark. You were alone. Even in a roomful of people, you were alone.

You were shaking when she got into bed. "Babe." She touched your arm. "What's the matter?"

"I." You grabbed onto her hand. "Can you just hold me?" She laid down, putting her arm around your waist. "Tighter. I need to feel you here."

She pulled you closer to her, keeping a hard grip on you. "Go to sleep, baby. I won't leave you alone." She kissed the top of your head and snuggled into you. "I love you."

"Love you," you muttered into her, slowly relaxing into sleep.