#and my mom emailed me back what she liked about it :')

[impishcupid]

I wanna tell you guys about my mom

My mom, in a lot of ways when I grew up, wasn’t the best. But through it all, she supported my queer identity. We could be going head to head screaming as a teenager, and she’d use my right pronouns.

A year or two ago, I was unemployed all of June. I had always been working through pride, and before I had a job my mom was working through pride, so I had only gone to one before for like ten minutes. My mom was disabled and unemployed, I was unemployed, so we figured fuck it: pride crawl.

We went to like 15ish pride events, sometimes even back to back in the same day, in different cities and towns.

After like 3 or 4, Mom wasn’t really bored, but she wasn’t impressed anymore. The rainbow streamers and running around drag kings and queens where just life now, and honestly no more different then what she could see simply opening my bedroom door. Any free shit we where given (drawstring bags, flags, pins, shirts) where saved in the car so we didn’t have to dress for pride anymore, everything was just in the car. By 10 or so, Mom was more fascinated by the booths at the different ones. She went to every harm reduction booth to learn better ways to administer narcan and grab another free dose (we live in an area with a high drug problem) or chat with the PFLAG people, who over the span of some weeks had become our friends. We sought out specific booths at specific events because they told us at the last one they’d be there.

But it had just solely become a regular thing like going to the grocery store or washing laundry to my mom. She watched me walk around in battle vests, just a binder, shorts and ripped pants and stompy boots and borderline heels. She learned from different booths about homeless resources and new campaigns she could advocate for, she learned more about HRT and how my transition could affect me in a symptoms kind of way. (She was always hesitant bc she married an intersex man who had to take testosterone, and when he went off of it he became aggressive. She learned this is not the only way people handle coming off testosterone and T doesn’t do that to everyone)

But after awhile, she was just bored. She trailed behind me as I flew to each new booth, did every craft at the craft booth (but when one had a giant cutout of the towns name people could paint their hands and leave a handprint on, I now have handprints on my crust pants from both mine and moms hands), signed up for every silly sweepstakes we saw or wrote my email for things I never looked at again, it was no different to her then when she took me to a cosplay event or the movies.

Every time we vend at Pride, there are times when I have to fight breaking down.

It's probably not when you'd expect. Yes, I get misty at the Big Moments and the Conversations, and we have those every time. I love seeing the parents who are buying their kid's first Pride item, the trans girls spinning in skirts they just bought, the curve of fresh scars across a chest that's clearly seeing sunlight for the first time this summer. I love it all. I devour every minute of it.

But it's the parents who hand their kid a $20 or tap their Apple watch on our card reader and look slightly bored that get me, sometimes.

My G-d. It's not scary, it's not overwhelming, it's not tense and nervewacking. It's boring to them.

2 weeks ago, my brother tells me, my parents used the right name and pronouns for me through an entire dinner with Jake and his partner.

I turned 47 three days ago.

Today, a parent looked bored escorting their teenager around at Pride.

My G-d.

[guinevereslancelot]

applied to a bunch of jobs! 😅🙏

[good-beans]

GUYS IM CRYING MY DAD DID FANART OF MY ORIGINAL WRITING ;---;

[angelstrawbabie420]

crazy how i have no one

[serendipitous-mage]

......... who's gonna tell him ... .. ill do it @markiplier

[thatfaerieprincess]

Aaaaaaaa tattoo???????????? Maybe??????

[thmollusk]

me and my autism vs. the aba therapy supporting autism and disability awareness hr person at my work who will win

[iknityounot]

(Long post, sorry y'all)

A little more than two years ago now, my grandmother passed away. She and my grandpa had moved down to my home town a few years before so we could take care of them. I brought them groceries once a week, helped them write checks, fixed tvs, and found lost things. I was really close with my grandma.

In addition to her hilarious personality and dry wit, one of my favorite things about her was that she was a painter and a crafter like me! She used to crochet, and I took her to the craft store a couple of times so she could get more yarn and books on crochet. But her arthritis and the shaking in her hands kept getting worse, so she eventually had to stop.

She kept her most recent project, a granny square blanket, safely packed away in a plastic bin. She told all of us she was going to finish it one day.

Her hands never got better, and when she got sick, and we found out it was cancer, she rapidly deteriorated.

After she passed, I went to work helping my mom clean out my grandparents apartment so we could move my grandpa in with her. In our frantic cleaning, I found that bin again:

DOZENS of granny squares, dozens of half used skeins. I asked my mom what she wanted me to do with it, and she said she didn't care. I set it aside and later took it home.

Maybe a month later, that tumblr post about the Loose Ends Project was going around. It felt like a sign--I was never going to learn to crochet in order to finish my grandmother's blanket. But they might be able to help!

So I filled out the interest form. They got back to me SUPER quick. And maybe 2 weeks later, I was paired with volunteer in my state (only 2 hours away!) and the box of yarn, granny squares, and my grandmother's crochet hook were in the mail. That was at the end of January this year.

Over the next couple of months, my "finisher" emailed me regular updates on her progress, and asked me questions on my preferences for how she constructed the final blanket.

At the end of August, the blanket was done!

I had always intended the blanket to be a gift for my mother. So I cleaned it up, put it in the only bag I had big enough to fit it, and drove to my mom's. I gave the blanket to her and she was gobsmacked. I explained to her all about Loose Ends, and how someone volunteered to finish the piece for us. She was speechless. (I was quite pleased with this, because I am not the best at giving gifts, so this was a pretty exciting reaction!)

She said that it was the most thoughtful gift she had ever been given. She said "your grandma would love this". To which I replied, "yeah, I know she really wanted to finish it a couple of years ago". But that was when my mom dropped the bomb of a century on me--she told me that my grandma had started making those granny squares OVER 30 YEARS AGO. She had started the blanket when my grandpa was staying in the hospital, but that was back when my mom was younger than I am now! My grandma had packed them all away, planning on finishing it, when my grandpa was sent home from the hospital. Then it went from house to house, from condo in Chicago to their apartment in my hometown. All that time and my grandma had wanted to finish it, but couldn't. First because she was busy, then because she forgot how to do it, then because of her arthritis, and then because of the cancer. My mom said she had given up on expecting my grandma to finish it. 

She said I brought a piece of her childhood with her mom out of the past.

And really, all of this is to say, if you have seen or heard about the Loose Ends Project and have an uncompleted project or piece from a loved one who has passed away--these are your people. They were so kind and treated my project with such care. That box probably would have been found by my own grandkids one day if I hadn't heard about Loose Ends.

Five stars, absolutely worth it!

(From what I understand, you can sign up to volunteer too! If you have time to share, it might be worth checking out!)

[iwatcheditbegin]

Honestly it would still suck it I didn’t have tix regardless. But I think what’s eating me is the fact that I didn’t even get a chance to try. I was stuck in treatment without any access to electronics when both the announcement and sale happened.

[gommyworm]

:^}

[reidmania]

inbetween | spencer reid

good riddance x spencer reid one shot series master list

summary ; after months over talking over email, you and spencer finally meet in person.

warnings ; reader & spencer fall in love over emails, meeting in person, insecure reader, insecure spencer, worries about not being enough, pretty much just pure fluff tbh.

an ; in between yall. this song. this is the first oneshot in the good riddance x spencer reid one shot series!! while i waiting for the poll to finish!!

part one, part two, part three

‘I just can't come between 'em, they got their own thing I wish he'd stop pretendin', he won't let his phone ring. For more than a couple seconds, oh, I think maybe two. two hearts just fallin' in and out of love for somethin' new. ‘i wish that you could see 'em, their faces lighten up their past is cold and empty, they know it's been enough of waitin' on somebody, someone who doesn't care but he knows her name, she knows he'll always be there’

<>

The email rang up at exactly 5:30, exactly when you expected it to. You were sitting at your desk at work, knees pulled to ur chest as you spun on the desk chair. Your coworkers paid no mind to your antics, after working in the safe office for years, with each other. They were used to it by now.

You chewed at your lip as you refreshed your email when the clock changed to exactly 5:30, a wide smile dawned your face when you read the email, you heart ached with longing as your eyes traced over the words on the screen, your stomach tightening and your heart clenching.

Sent from dr.spencerreid@gmail.com at 5:30pm

Hi.

I don’t know when this will send because I’m writing it while on the jet, probably as we get lower and more towards landing, I’ll spare you the scientific details. We only got back from a case this morning, early. Which is why it has taken me so long to reply. Im sorry.

We got a case in Maryland, which I remember you telling me, is where you live. I know I should probably just ask for your phone number but I kind of enjoy the emailing thing. It’s a lot less nerve racking because I can try to pass it off as professional, even though a lot of the time our conversations aren’t.

I actually don’t think we have ever had a professional conversation. Which is a good thing. I really enjoy our conversations no matter what we are talking about. I really enjoy talking to you.

I hope this isn’t too forward but I wanted to know if theres any chance I could see you while I’m in Maryland for this case. I don’t know when it would be or how long I’d be able to see you for, but I do really want to see you. If thats okay with you.

I guess I should give you my number, so you know I’m not some creepy old man. That would be ironic since I work at the FBI and my job is to stop people like that… I don’t know.

Heres my number, 023387677

Love, Spencer.

Your stomach tightened at the idea of seeing him in person. You never admitted it, but you knew he wasn’t an old man, you knew exactly who he was. You made the decision to google his name 6 months ago, when the two of you first started emailing back and forth after he accidentally sent a work email to the wrong person and you replied. It started as just telling him he had sent it to the wrong person, then he thanked you and apologised and made a joke and then the conversation just flowed.

You had been having conversations with Spencer Reid for six months and you felt like you knew more about him than you did yourself. He told you about his day, and about things he had been through, He opened up to you about his addiction and his mom and you opened up to him about your own trauma and issues.

Spencer Reid was your best friend and you had never met him. You had never even heard his voice. You only had seen his face on google when you searched up ‘Spencer reid FBI’ and a photo came up, he looked younger than you assumed in it, seeing the photo was from a few years ago. You felt slightly bad since you knew he could google you and probably come up empty handed — you had the upper hand.

You look at the clock as it inches closer to six o-clock when you finish work. A boring office job, you often complained to Spencer about. It was ironic since his job literally traumatised him, and yet you complained about the boring desk job, although he never ever compared, he would listen and comfort you after a bad day no matter what, just like you did for him.

You don’t reply to the email he sent as you typed the number he sent into your phone, saving the contact under ‘spence’ The nickname that had developed only weeks into the two of you talking. You send him a text, letting him know it was you, saying hi.

“Phone.” You hear your boss, warning you about using your phone at work, you lift your head an apologetic smile on your face as you close your phone, placing it face down on your desk as you close your email and return to your work after muttering out a sheepish, ‘Sorry!’

Spencer is sitting in a conference room of the police station in Maryland. He didn’t know it but he was only two blocks away from the office you worked. He never usually cared to check his phone while working — nothing could be as important as the case.

Until you, until now.

He found himself hanging out to feel the buzz in his pocket, he found himself checking his phone just in case maybe he missed the message. Just in case you did message.

He also checked his email a lot.

“Whats up with boy wonder?” Derek asked as he spun a chair to sit on it backwards, resting his arms on the back of the chair as he looked around at the other team members. Spencer focus on anything other than the case.

“He gave mystery girl his number” Emily said, patting Spencers shoulder softly to get his attention as she walked past him, placing a coffee down in front of him. Spencer noticed how it was his normal order — despite the fact lately he had been getting your order, after he found out what it was. It made him feel a little bit closer to you.

“Oo, Okay lover boy.” Derek hummed approvingly, raising his eyebrow slightly as he looked down at the boy. Spencer sighed as he let back in his chair, tossing his phone on the table as he checked to get no message. “Nothing yet?” Emily asked, knowing Spencer had been stressing since he sent the email on the jet, nearly two hours ago.

He didn’t know it hadn’t even delivered until a few minutes ago.

“Shes probably just busy” Spencer muttered as he checked his watch for the time. 5:33pm, you’d be at work.

Derek shared a look with Emily, both with teasing smiles on their faces. They had watched Spencer obsess over the girl for the past 6 months, even after he tried to hide it for the first few. He did a horrid job, they all noticed him smiling at his computer and typing away more often than ever, they noticed his focus slight adverted. It took a bit but they eventually got it out of him when you didn’t email him back for a week and he was going insane with worry that maybe you were ghosting him, or that you were hurt.

He confided in his team, you emailed him a few days later saying your wifi went down and none of your emails were going through. He was instantly relieved.

His phone buzzed on the table, 5:35pm. His hand instantly reached out for his phone. His eyes widened and his lip twitched upwards as he read the message that lit his screen.

“And lover boy is in” Derek whispered to Emily, loud enough that Spencer could hear that only ended up in Spencer sending him a glare, before typing out a reply and sending it, asking to call you tonight when he got finished.

“Alright, We got a lead” Hotch said entering the room.

You leant against the back of your head board, your hair wet and dripping down the back of your neck as you waited nervously for call to ring through your phone. You were almost terrified of what the conversation might hold. You were glad you were calling before you agreed or disagreed to meeting him, you could feel out whether or not it might be awkward or not.

You almost jumped out of your skin as your phone started ringing, anxiety pooled in your stomach as your skin flushed hot, causing the drops of water on the back of your neck feel as if it was burning the skin. You reached out for your phone that rested on your bed side table, answering the call.

“Hi.” You muttered out a breath of air. You couldn’t even help but smile as the realisation dawned on you. You were talking to Spencer. Finally, actually talking to him.

You heard a harsh breath on the other side of the phone before some shuffling. “Hold on” He mumbled out, you stomach fluttered at his voice as your teeth sunk into your bottom lip as you bit back a smile.

“Okay.” You said, you heard some more shuffling before the sound of a door closing, then a creek. And then a breath.

“Hi” He settled on, you sat up a bit, crossing your legs as his word came out almost breathy and nervous. It made your chest thump against your ribcage so much it ached. “Sorry— I should’ve waited till I was in my hotel room to call, I was excited— Sorry” He said.

You could hear the nerves in his voice and all it did was make your cheeks beat a rosy hue. “It’s okay. I was nervous” You admit softly, you try to hide the slight embarrassment in your voice but it fails you as your words come out small.

You hear him chuckle. You think the sound genuinely makes your mind fall empty of any coherent thoughts. “You don’t have to be nervous” He spoke so softly as if his words were an exhale he had been holding in.

“But I am” You muttered.

“Me too.” He said honestly. You found comfort in the fact he cared enough about this interaction to be nervous about it. You went to run your hand through your hair but paused with you felt the coldness — it was still very wet from your shower.

“Good” You sighed out, voice almost a whisper. You didn’t know why you were speaking so quietly, there was no one else in your house. There was no reason to be as quiet as you were.

“Is good that I’m nervous?” Spencer asked, you could hear the teasing in his voice. It made your head spin and the words get caught as you shook your head, before remembering he couldn’t see you.

“Yes- No- no. No.” You muttered out, “Its uh- Its not good that your nervous— I- Its just good that you care” You scrambled out, stuttering over your words as you grew flustered. It made you want to turn into your pillow and scream.

You heard him laugh, making your face screw up. “Shut up.” You muttered out as it didn’t take a genius to figure out he was laughing at you scrambling over your words, your free hand came up to cover your face as your cheeks felt on fire.

“No- Im sorry. Im sorry. Of course I care, you know I care” He said softly as he collected his laughter, his voice dripping honesty for a moment as he spoke genuinely in a way that made your knees feel weak — Thank god you weren’t standing. You were silent for a moment as a smile dawned on your face.

“Tell me about your day.” He requested gently. You heard some more shuffling you could only assume he was getting comfortable in bed. You pictured it and it made your stomach burn with longing. Wishing it wasn’t just an image in your head.

And you did, you told him about your day and he told you about yours; the conversation flowed simply and sweetly from then on. He teased you whenever you stuttered over your words, you could hear the smile in his voice as he spoke.

You and him spoke until your voice was quiet and drowsy with sleep, until your eyes were fluttering shut and you went unresponsive for a moment before he asked if you were asleep and you would wake up to the sound of his voice, muttering out a no, to which he would chuckle, and tell you to go to sleep.

When you fell asleep, he waited ten minutes to make sure you were really asleep before hanging up. His heart full as he fell asleep smiling.

Sorry I fell asleep. If i didn’t throw you off completely and you still want to see me, im free any day after 6, when i finish work.

Spencer smiled at the message. The acceptance. You were accepting meeting him, seeing him. He couldn’t fathom the idea of anything you doing ever throwing him off. You had wiggled your way into his chest months ago, and you stayed consuming every part of him everyday since. He didn’t see that changing any day soon, or ever.

He sent you an address to a bar Derek suggested the team going to after work. He didn’t know if maybe it was too forward, or might be awkward with his team there, but at least if it didn’t go well there was people around.

He closed his phone as he waited for your reply, his mind replaying the conversation he had with you last night, how sweet you sounded, how your laugh made his heart clench, how whenever you said his name or spoke a little louder he felt light headed, unable to focus on anything but you.

There was anxiety in his stomach when he realised the two of you never quite talked about what it all meant. What the months of conversation back and forth was. He realised he didn’t know what you wanted. What you expected.

Maybe you just saw him as a friend, maybe to you the conversation is nothing more than friendly. Honestly, if that was the case Spencer didn’t think he would be able to deny you of that. He would do anything to keep you in his life, even if it caused a slight ache in his chest. He had told you things he couldn’t imagine telling anyone else, he trusted you in a way he didn’t know possible, and it may be stupid, maybe naive, but Spencer didn’t care.

The way he felt for you took over any ounce of doubt in his mind, it overtook the insecurity welling in his mind, that maybe you wouldn’t like him, not the way he liked you.

He had never felt so much for a person. He had never felt so much point blank. He could hardly fathom you feeling for him near the amount he felt for you.

Your hands traveled over your jeans softly as your palms grew sweaty as you stepped inside the bar. Thanking the guy you held it open for you as he walked out. You were instantly overwhelmed by the amount of people, the music playing and the people chatting. You probably should have gotten changed first instead of coming straight after work but you were too nervous and didn’t want to give yourself time to dwindle in your insecurities then chicken out.

You manoeuvred your way through the people, quiet apologies leaving your lips as you looked around for Spencer, or anyone who looks like they might be an FBI agent.

What does an FBI agent look like? you thought, as you let out a sigh, finally getting out of the crowd of people as you got to the back of the bar, a lot more free of space. A few people around, standing at tables. You skimmed over for a moment as you tried to catch any glimpse of the boy that you could.

You heard your name, making you spin on your heels. You saw a dark haired girl smiling at you. Well that isn’t spencer.

“Yes?” You said, smiling at her as you tried to hide the anxiety building in your veins. Your hand coming to push hair off your face softly as you try to focus on the girl in front of you. She grins widely, “Spencer is over there, you looked like you were looking for someone…” She said, my smile instantly widened as you looked over to where she nudged her head.

your breath got caught in your throat as your eyes settled on him, the photo didn’t do him justice in any way. His hair was messy and slightly grown out, he was engrossed in a conversation with who you could only assume was Derek Morgan, who Spencer had told you about. His tie was crooked in his suit as he lifted his arm to sip the drink in his hand.

you tear my eyes away as you look at the lady who is smiling at you. “Happy with that?” She asks. It takes you a moment to recognise her as Emily, whom Spencer had also told you about. You can hardly put it into words how your chest feels like its gonna explode as your heart thumps.

“He is gorgeous.” You breathe out, shaking your head as words fail you, your eyes trail back to him for a moment to see him laughing, you see his head turn towards the door, as if he is waiting for you to walk through them.

Emily smiles, patting your shoulder softly, “Cmon Mystery girl” She said, you pay little attention to the nickname as she encourages you to walk towards the table with her. Your legs feel like Jelly with every step that you take, your stomach twisting in the familiar feeling of anxiety.

When she pauses at the table your breath hitches. “Oi Reid” She mutters, both he and Derek turns their head towards her, “Look who I found” She says softly, hand brushing over your shoulder.

Spencers eyes skip over to yours and you watch an emotion pull his features. An emotion you can’t quite place and it makes your stomach ache at the uncertainty, insecurity creeping up the back of your neck.

“Hi” You breathe out as you look at him. Theres a moment of silence before he is pushing away from the table and walking around to you. His arms around you the moment you are in reach and it makes your muscles tense slightly before relaxing completely in his hold as you wrap your arms around his neck, hugging him back.

Emily and Derek watch in amusement for a moment, smiling when they see the look on Spencer’s face. The one you couldn’t place the one they knew all too well.

He was in love.

He was in love before seeing you, he knew that but watching you stand there grinning at him made him all the more sure about it. His hand rested on your waist as he pulled back from the hug to look at your face.

“Hi” He whispered back.

You chewed at your lip at you bit back the wide smile that tried to force its way into your features. His hand traveled up to your face before he could stop it hand cupping your face gently.

You eased, leaning into his touch the warmth of his hand feeling gentle against the soft skin of your cheek. “Y-You- I- Hi.” He stuttered this time.

You grinned, “Cat got your tongue?” You ask, teasing him like he would every-time you stuttered over the phone. He just grins in response.

“No. You’re beautiful” He said, eyes dancing over your face, he looked at you like he was trying to memories every little detail. Your stomach tightens and your knees felt weak as the compliment left his mouth. You had been told that before, but it felt different coming from him. He said it with honesty and sincerity.

“So are you” You said back before hugging him tightly again. He didn’t complain at all, instead his arms fell tightly around your waist as he held you against him, as if he was scared that if he let go you would disappear.

The night went on, you stayed by spencer’s side, his hand on yours or around your shoulder gently as if he couldn’t get enough of the feeling of you being next to him. You never complained — you took it all as a compliment and leant into his touch.

“Are you cold?” Spencer asked as you and him walked outside of the bar, hand in hand. he noticed the way you shivered as the cold hair hit the skin of your bare arms. You turn your head to look up at him, the look in his eye enough to make your chest clench around the fat of your heart.

“A little” You admit. It was nothing you couldn’t handle, but spencer was instantly pulling off his suit jacket for you, slugging it gently over your shoulders as the two of you walked down the street. You paused in your steps as you looked up at him.

“Thank you.” You say.

“Its okay- I don’t want you to be cold” He said softly. You couldn’t help but smile at his kindness, but you shook your head. “For that too— But I meant, for asking to see me. Thank you for thinking of me when you heard about where the case was — for talking to me everyday. Thank you for being my best friend Spence” You said softly as you lean against your car as you and him stop in front of it.

His lip twitches upwards into a smile as his hand drops yours instead resting softly on your lips. “I always think of you.” He admits, eyes on yours.

Your breath gets caught in the back of your throat. “Spencer.” You say softly.

He looks at you, really looks at you. He is seeing you. He is seeing every little thing you have told him over the last six months, every little detail about you there was to know, and all he could think about was he wanted more, he wanted to know you more.

“Yeah?” He says, his voice a whisper.

You feel anxiety pool in your stomach as the question lingers on the tip of your tongue. There was a pull towards him you couldn’t ignore, the same pull you felt when you received his email, six months, 2 weeks and 3 days ago. You’d count the hours but you figured that was more his style.

“You can say no, I want you to know that” You said, you wanted to make it perfectly clear that his response to this was completely up to him and you didn’t want to feel pressured. “Can I kiss you?” You ask.

His lips are on yours before you can even finish the question. One hand of his travelling to the small of your back to bring you in closer while the other tangles in your hair, cradling the back of your neck. Your hands instantly cup his face as you press your lips against him. Your lips together saying more than words ever could.

This, right here, him, right now.

It was everything and more.

[diaryofaprettyprincess]

stepdad!ghost x crybaby!girly!reader where he yells at her n it scares her cuz his voice is so deep n booming n she immediately starts crying. it all starts when he’s stressed because of a ton of paperwork he has to get done by that night and he hasn’t been able to because of different things that keep popping up. on top of that, he has to watch over you because your mom is out of town for a few weeks doing god know what.

so it’s safe to say he’s beyond stressed.

it all comes crashing down when you come skipping into his at-home office, a dvd in your hand for a movie he had promised you two would watch that day—before he was emailed a ton of paperwork.

you skip over to him, a small, “what’re you doin?” leaving your lips quietly as you peer over his shoulder.

he knows you just want attention right now, and god, does he want to give it to you.

but he can’t right now, and unfortunately for you, you don’t realize it.

he replies to your question with a gruff, “paperwork.” as he rubs his temple with his index and middle.

“oh.” your reply is short, and you look down at the dvd in hand sadly. “thought we were gonna watch a movie?”

simon tries to ignore the disappointment in your voice, because he knows he would immediately drop everything for you, but he just can’t.

“i know, love, but ‘ve got so much shit to do..what about tomorrow?” he asks, now watching u walk around to the front of his desk as you lean forward on it with your hands planted on the hardwood.

“tha’s what u said yesterday..” you pout, and simon can feel his irritability building in his blood. he doesn’t want to take any of his stress out on you, but if you push further, he’s worried he might.

“i know, princess. ‘m sorry, okay? i promise we will do it tomorrow.” he is now shuffling through his work.

you hate when he isn’t paying attention to you.

your eyes burn as you begin to feel tears sprout to them.

“si..” you squeak, trying to express that you feel lonely—what, with your mom being out all of the time. however, simon seemingly ignores you, too lost in his work. trying to get his attention, you call him what you know will achieve that. “daddy, can u take a break? please?” you beg, fidgeting with the dvd case. ghost’s heart squeezes in his chest at the nickname.

he mentally shakes his head. he has to focus.

“y/n, i already gave you my answer.” he speaks, his voice edging on pure annoyance.

“b-but you promised me! you always have somethin’ more important than me!” you’re fully crying now, and simon genuinely feels bad, but he just has so much to do.

he sighs, standing up to grab a pen from the coffee table. you follow behind him, crying.

“why’re you ignorin me?” you sob, and ghost rolls his eyes. he knows if he doesn’t look at you he won’t give in.

“y/n, stop.” he spits, walking back to his desk and hunching over to sign something.

you continue blubbering nonsense until— “enough! fuckin’ christ!”

his eyes burn into yours until he sees your utter hurt and he’s immediately back-tracking.

“angel..” he says softly right before you run off, and he begins to follow until you slam your bedroom door in his face. “fuck.” he sighs, exhausted.

he knows he scared you. he’s never yelled at you like that before.

he can hear your muffled, hiccuping cries, and he rests his forehead against your door—eyes shut tightly.

he tries your door handle but it’s locked. he knows you need time to decompress right now, so he reluctantly goes back to work for another hour before checking on you.

“princess?” he knocks on your door, and he can hear the movie you two were supposed to watch playing on the tv in your room. “let me in, baby.”

he can hear the sound of you getting off of your bed, then the clicking of the door unlocking. you run immediately back to your pink bed, whimpering like a puppy out of fright.

simon sighs for what seems like the 20th time that day, sitting down on your mattress. his large hand rubbing over the expanse of your back slowly.

“sweet’art, lookat me,” he speaks softly. “didn’t mean ta scare you..’m sorry. jus’ was stressed, baby.”

you turn your head, and he can see the reddening of your puffy eyes from crying so much.

“awh, angel,” he kisses the top of your head, brushing the hair away from your face. “can you forgive me?”

his voice is so soft and gentle you want to cry some more.

you nod, chewing on your lower lip. simon’s jaw ticks as he traces his thumb over the slope of your nose and down to the cupids bow of your soft lips. “sweetest girl ever, y’know that?” he asks, and his heart flutters when you giggle.

he leans forward and gently places a small kiss on your lips.

JANDKD IDK IF I LIKE THIS BUT WHATEVER

[etheraltides]

BENEATH THE NOISE ᯓᡣ𐭩

Pairing: Rafe Cameron x College!Reader

Summarize: It’s hard to deal with deception when you’ve given your best. Luckily, Rafe knows how to get to you.

Warning(s): self depreciation, a hint of anxiety.

A/N: Thank you so much for all the love in my works <3

The grade wasn’t supposed to define you. That’s what everyone says: “It’s just a number, not a measure of your worth.” But as you sit staring at the email on your screen, the words blur, letters and numbers melting together until you can only feel one thing: failure.

The exam’s grade - the one you poured sleepless nights, early mornings, and everything in between into – sits there in stark black and white, unchangeable, final. You can’t look away, even as the panic bubbles into shame and then into the familiar, relentless self-criticism. Even as the salty tears begin to blurry your vision.

“How could I have been so stupid?” you think, teeth pressing into your lower lip. “All those hours… wasted. What’s the point if this is the result?” The thoughts spiral faster, slipping away from you. “Maybe I’m not cut out for this. Maybe I’m just fooling myself. Everyone else makes it look so easy.”

With a shaky breath, you shut your laptop and curl up on your bed, tugging the blanket over yourself as if it could shield you from the whirlwind in your mind, from the world and those mocking numbers. You feel your phone buzz, but you ignore it. Then it buzzes again, and again. It’s Rafe, no doubt, checking in, but you can’t bring yourself to reply. You’re not in the mood for talking and pretending to be fine, or worse – the pity you know will be laced into his voice if he finds out how badly you did.

But Rafe isn’t one to be easily put off. He leaves message after message, each one laced with growing concern and slight irritation.

“Hey, baby. Just checking in. How’d the test go?”

A minute later, “Everything okay? Call me when you get this. You’re working me, baby.”

Another text, his humor slipping through: “I’m gonna assume you’re just taking a nap and ignoring the world like you usually do when you’re stressed.”

And then, finally, a call. You glance at the screen, seeing his name flash, but even though part of you aches to hear his voice, you can’t bring yourself to answer. Instead, you turn off the phone entirely, sinking further into the blanket cocoon, feeling more alone and defeated with every minute that ticks by.

Rafe spends the better part of an hour trying to reach you. First, it’s gentle check-ins, then some light teasing, then a note of worry threading through his texts. When all his messages stay stuck on “delivered” with no response, he throws on a jacket, grabs his car keys, and heads out the door. He’s had enough off of it.

The drive is a blur, his hands gripping the steering wheel as he runs through what he’ll say to you when he gets there. He’d scold you for being a brat and making him worry when all you had to do was type some goddamn words on your phone. It wasn’t so hard. He didn’t even want to think about the possibility of something actually happening to you.

By the time he arrives at your place, it’s late enough that the lights outside are dim, casting long shadows across the driveway. He knocks once, twice in your bedroom’s door once your mom lets him in.

“She’s been there for hours.” Your mom sighs, looking up at the stairs as she puts your untouched plate of dinner in the refrigerator. “The results of her exam came in and well… You know how hard she can be with herself.”

Rafe rubs hand on his neck, he had completely forgot that the result would be today and he knew how hard you’ve been studying.

He knocks on your door once and when there’s no answer, he gently turns the knob, letting himself in.

It’s quiet inside, save for the faint sound of your breathing as he steps into your room. He sees you there, huddled under the blankets, your back to the door, your shoulders slightly shaking. His heart clenches in pain and worry as you look so small hiding in the many blankets. Wordlessly, Rafe slips off his shoes, walking over to your bed. Without a word, he lifts the edge of the blanket and slides in beside you, his warmth immediately seeping through the layers of fabric that separate you.

For a moment, he doesn’t say anything, letting his presence speak for itself. Slowly, he wraps an arm around you, pulling you into his chest. You stiffen at first, your pride fighting the comfort he’s offering, but then the dam breaks, and you lean into him, hiding your face in his shoulder.

He strokes your hair gently, his voice a soft murmur. “I’m here. You don’t have to say anything if you don’t want to.” He presses a light kiss to the top of your head, letting the silence settle for a few moments longer before he speaks again.

“Want me to talk to your professor?” he murmurs, a playful edge creeping into his tone. “Because I could pay a visit, you know… straighten him out, remind him that no one messes with my girl.” He squeezes you a little tighter. “Just say the word.”

You can’t help the small, broken laugh that escapes you, muffled by his shirt. You know he’s kidding – or at least, half-kidding – but there’s a part of you that believes he might actually show up at your professor’s office if you asked him to. That thought alone lightens the weight on your chest, even if just a little.

“You don’t need to go after my professor, Rafe,” you mumble, a hint of sarcasm breaking through the sadness. “Even though… I wouldn’t mind seeing the look on his face if you did, it wasn’t his fault.”

Rafe chuckles softly, squeezing your shoulder. “If you change your mind, I’ve got my car gassed up and ready.”

The laugh fades, and you fall silent again, the weight of the failure still pressing down on you. After a few moments, you pull back slightly, looking up at him. “Rafe… what if I’m just not good enough? What if I’ve been trying so hard for nothing?”

You wrap your arms around his torso, fingers absently tracing random shapes on his t-shirt as the words left your trembling lips. “Maybe I should just quit it. Spare myself all the deception.”

He keeps his hold on you, his voice staying low and gentle. “Baby, you’re one of the smartest people I know. This grade? It doesn’t change that. Not even a little.”

You start to protest, but he shushes you, brushing a thumb across your cheek. “No, I’m serious. You’re so hard on yourself, and I get it. But you need to remember that one test doesn’t undo everything you are, everything you’ve done. It’s just one small thing in a million great things about you.”

The words come out softly and so certain, almost like a confession, and you see the shift in his expression as he meets your gaze. He lifts a hand, gently tucking a stray strand of hair behind your ear, his eyes soft and steady. “Then you try again, and again, if you have to. But you’re anything but ‘not good enough.’ You’re brilliant, and hard-working, and stubborn as hell. I’ve seen you tackle way harder stuff than this.”

You shake your head, unable to accept the kindness in his voice. “But I… I feel so dumb, Rafe. Like all this effort is just… wasted. Like I’m not cut out for this.”

Rafe’s expression softens even more, and he tilts your chin up, making sure you’re looking into his eyes. “Baby, listen to me. One test, one mistake – none of that changes who you are or what you’re capable of. You’re allowed to be human, to mess up sometimes. It doesn’t make you any less amazing, okay?”

His words linger, breaking down the wall you’ve built around your pride and pain. For the first time since you got the grade, you start to believe that maybe, just maybe, he’s right. You were being too harsh in yourself.

“Thank you,” you whisper, your voice barely audible as you place a kiss to his cheek.

“Always,” he replies, giving you a small, reassuring smile. “Now, let’s stay here as long as you need, but when you’re ready, we’ll go grab some terrible takeout, or watch that show you like. Whatever you want. But for now… just let me hold you.”

You nod, settling against him, the rise and fall of his chest calming the storm in your mind. And as you lie there, surrounded by his warmth and steady heartbeat, the self-criticism starts to soften, the harsh thoughts fading, leaving only the quiet reassurance that you’ll be okay.

As you lie curled up against him, letting his warmth seep into you, Rafe’s hand gently runs along your back in soothing circles. You can feel the steady beat of his heart, grounding you, pulling you away from the spiral of self-doubt. After a long silence, you finally lift your head, your face inches from his as you meet his gaze. There’s no judgment in his eyes, just quiet understanding, and something even softer.

Slowly, he reaches up, brushing a thumb across your cheek, and you feel yourself lean into his touch. His eyes flicker down to your lips, and after a beat, he leans in, capturing your lips in a kiss that’s soft, gentle, like he’s pouring all his reassurance into you without a single word. His fingers slip to the back of your neck, his hold gentle but certain, as if anchoring you to the moment, grounding you in his presence and pulling you away from the loud thoughts in your mind.

He pulls back just slightly, his forehead resting against yours, and you feel his breath, warm and steady. “I’m here,” he whispers, his voice barely more than a murmur. “No grade, no test can change that. You’re more than enough, and I’m not going anywhere.” His thumb grazes your cheek again, his eyes filled with warmth and conviction, and in that moment, the weight on your heart feels a little lighter, the storm in your mind a little quieter.

[captainreecejames]

Fired by a... wag? || my ex is a footballer lh44

summary mercedes admin gets fired?

pairing lewis hamilton x reader faceclaim bruna marquezine

warnings curisng, google translate for multiple different languages

notes the much anticipated part 2 to lewis hamilton my ex is a footballer, also i couldn't resist at the end so if brocedes talk to eachother this season just know i predict the future

twitter ---------

ynusername posted--------

liked by pierregasly, charles_leclerc and others

ynusername first 3 are canadian gp and the last is lewis catching me off guard as I'm on the phone

load more comments

username1 I just know she's on the phone with toto complaining about the admin ↳ username2 the power she holds >>>

roscoelovescoco moms protectings dad ❤️ by ynusername

username3 lewis confirming that yn was yelling at toto via roscoe's instagram, not what I was expecting.

username4 god she is actually the most stunning woman in the world

lewishamilton meu anjo ↳ ynusername eu te amo

username5 the aura in the first picture, unmatched ↳ username6 yeah, but she's also just really fucking hot ↳ username5 lewishamilton can you fight ↳ lewishamilton yes ↳ username6 LOLOLOL

carmenmmundt linda!!! ↳ ynusername no you

username7 why does she look like kendall jenner in the last photo

username8 fan's creating beef between lewis and george meanwhile their wags are calling each other beautiful ↳ username9 the guys leave it on the track, why would carmen and YN need to bring it up on instagram comments

twitter -------

ynusername posted--------

liked by carmenmmundt, georgerussell63 and others

ynusername lewis I know I've only known you for a few months and you've accomplished so much before but to see you on the podium knowing how much work you put into this is awe inspiring. Hope you always know how loved you are

load more comments

lewishamilton I love you yn

lewishamilton these last two months have been amazing and your support through this time means so much to me. I wouldn't want to be here without you

username10 bro i can barely get a text back after 2 months and they're over here telling each other they love you

username11 don't you guys think it's a little fast ↳ username12 don't you think it's none of your business

username13 I know she sent the sabotage email, she really is ride or die for him.

alexandrasaintmleux can't wait to have you in the ferrari garage next year! ❤️ by charles_leclerc ↳ username14 CHARLES WHEN SILVIA SEES THIS YOU ARE GETTING YOUR PHONE TAKEN AWAY ↳ ynusername eu te amo alex

ynusername posted--------

liked by mercedesamgf1, roscoelovescoco and others

ynusername to see you finally on that top step of the podium in Brazil, lewis I don't think you understand how much I love and cherish you. With this season almost done I am so grateful for everything that brought me you and I can't wait to start out next chapter together.

load more comments

sebastianvettel congrats you two ❤️ by ynusername, lewishamilton

charles_leclerc congrats happy couple ❤️ by ynusername, lewishamilton

username20 I'm fucking screaming, what???

username21 imagine a year ago you told yn fans that she'd be engaged, we would have said thank go kylian got his head out of his ass ↳ username22 bro it hasn't even been a year since they broke up ↳ username21 yn knew what she wanted

useranme23 lewis really bagged himself a baddie

mercedesamgf1 congratulations to both! hope admin gets an invite to the party ↳ ynusername of course you do adminuser, you're a gem ↳ adminuser omg love you so much yn

scuderiaferrari can't wait to see yn ln-hamilton in the garage next year ↳ username24 ferrari just rubbing it in that they get the goat next year, have to respect the hustle

scuderiaferrari yn do we also get an invite ↳ ynusername stay on my good side babe ↳ scuderiaferrari we promise to always have amarena gelato in stock ↳ ynusername sold 😍😘

username25 further proof that yn got the old mercedes admin fired because why are the admin's getting invited to the wedding??

maxverstappen1 gefeliciteerd voor jullie allebei ❤️ by lewishamilton, ynusername

pierregasly félicitations à toi ❤️ by lewishamilton, ynusername

valterribottas happy couple !!! ↳ ynusername valterri, it's yn. thank you! 💞 ↳ valterribottas 🙄🙄

georgerussell63 congratulations lewis and yn! ↳ carmenmmundt we love you ❤️ by ynusername, lewishamilton

fernandoalo_oficial felicidades a los dos ❤️ by ynusername, lewishamilton

nicorosberg congratulations yn and lewis! much love to you both ❤️ by ynusername, lewishamilton ↳ lewishamilton thanks nico ↳ username26 NICO???! ↳ username27 ENGAGEMENT SO GOOD IT GOT BROCEDES BACK TOGETHER

[weemssapphic]

Lipstick Stains - Pt. 24

previous chapter | next chapter | series page

Larissa Weems x fem!reader

warning: this chapter contains smut (g!p)

words: ~ 4.2k | ao3 link in title

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

“My mom wanted me to thank you for all the restaurant recs you gave them. By the sound of it I’m pretty sure my parents were in a food coma all weekend.”

Larissa let out a sound between a chuckle and a snort, her gaze briefly flicking up from her laptop. You were sitting cross legged on the chair across from her, a textbook flipped open in your lap and your phone in your hand, the soft, cool glow illuminating your face as you glanced up at Larissa with a grin.

“I’m glad your parents don’t seem to hate me entirely,” Larissa quipped with a small but genuine smile.

“They could never hate you, Larissa… I think my mom was just being weirdly protective,” you said with a shrug. “Wouldn’t your mom be the same?”

You could see Larissa’s shoulders tense, her smile faltering, and you frowned. Larissa didn’t speak of her parents much, or at all, really - all you knew was that they were still alive, and that they lived somewhere near London. 

“Sorry, you don’t have to-” you started quickly, worried you’d struck a nerve, but Larissa interrupted you before you had the chance to finish speaking.

“My mother has never cared for anyone I’ve chosen to be with, I doubt this would be any different.” Her voice was cool and weirdly distant, and her gaze flickered back to her laptop under the pretense of reading her emails - you could tell, though, that she was just scrolling idly, without really absorbing anything on the screen.

“Oh, so she’s, like, super critical of your partners…?”

“Of everyone. Not to mention homophobic.”

Your stomach dropped at that, your heart breaking into a billion pieces for Larissa. “What about your dad?” you mumbled, your mouth feeling a bit dry as you feared the answer.

Larissa shrugged, snapping her laptop shut and interlocking her hands in her lap as she leaned back in her chair and fixed the smooth, rounded edge of the desk with a distant, pensive stare. “I don’t think he minds, but he wouldn’t dare speak out against my mother, so it doesn’t matter.”

“It matters a lot, Riss, that’s really shit, I th-”

You were interrupted by a pounding on the door to Larissa’s office - it opened behind you with a bang, an alarmingly loud flurry of footsteps spilling into the room. Larissa’s brow furrowed as her gaze snapped to the source of the interruption, and she immediately straightened up in her seat. 

A small group of students you hadn’t yet met all flocked around her desk, their anxiety clearly palpable - until they noticed you, fixing you with curious stares as the girl at the front of the group opened her mouth to speak, glanced over at you, then shut her mouth again.

“Should I…?” you asked Larissa quietly, your voice faltering a bit as you struggled to come to terms with the sudden interruption, subtly shifting in your seat so that you were sitting properly on the chair. 

Larissa shook her head gently. “It’s alright,” she said firmly, turning her attention to the girl and raising an eyebrow. “Ms. Barclay, I hope you have a good reason for barging into my office so late in the evening.”

Larissa was in principal mode, and you sat as still as you could to not draw further attention to yourself as the students, mercifully, turned their heads to look at their principal, and the girl started speaking.

“Principal Weems, Wednesday’s gone off the rails.”

Larissa’s face fell at the mention of Wednesday, and she instantly rolled her shoulders back and placed her interlocked hands atop her desk. “Would you care to elaborate?” she hummed coolly, irritation clear in her voice.

“She’s literally torturing Tyler out in Xavier’s art studio, she thinks he’s the hyde and that tasing him is going to unlock it or something.”

Your jaw dropped at the girl’s words, your stomach churning - a glance at Larissa told you she was having a similar emotional reaction, though she was infinitely better at hiding it, her eyes widening almost imperceptibly and her knuckles turning white.

“We tried to stop her, but she was weirdly into it, she said she had a vision,” offered one of the boys.

“I’m not going to ask how you know this - quite frankly, I don’t believe I want to know. I am, however, going to have to alert the sheriff…” Larissa picked up the phone on her desk, her nostrils flaring as she dialed the sheriff’s phone number. She leaned back as she lifted the receiver to her ear, waiting for him to pick up. “Sheriff Galpin, we have a problem. And her name is Wednesday Addams.”

Larissa quickly relayed the most important details to the sheriff, giving him permission to come to Nevermore to pick Wednesday up and agreeing to meet him at the station afterwards. As she hung up, she let out a frustrated sigh before turning back to her students. “Thank you for bringing this to my attention. I will be dealing with Ms. Addams accordingly and I would be very grateful if you could return to your dorms for the evening.”

The students shuffled back out of the office with mumbled ‘goodbye’s and ‘thank you’s (and a couple curious glances in your direction), and Larissa closed her eyes, a frown on her face as her lip twitched. “I’m afraid I’m going to have to leave for a little while,” she said slowly, her tone laced with annoyance and regret in equal measure. “I would be very happy if you would stay and wait for me, though I understand if you’d rather go home.”

“Of course I’m staying,” you replied firmly, placing your textbook on the edge of Larissa’s desk as you leaned over and took her hand in yours. Larissa’s eyes fluttered open, her gaze instantly softening as it landed on your hand gently but insistently intertwining itself with hers - she gave it a squeeze, before pulling her hand away and standing to fetch her coat.

“I’ll be back as soon as I can,” she said, pressing a light kiss to the crown of your head as she passed you to leave her office in a hurry.

~~~

The tell-tale click of heels just outside the door and the turning of the lock alerted you to Larissa’s return, and you closed the textbook you’d been studying and turned on the little sofa in front of the fire, craning your neck to watch the door as it opened. 

Wednesday stepped into the room first, her gaze instantly meeting yours but giving away nothing of what had transpired - aside from looking a tad spooked.

Larissa stepped through the door next, closing it gently behind herself. Her hard gaze seemed to soften just a fraction when she realized you were up and waiting for her. “Darling, could you please wait in my quarters for me? I’d like to speak with Ms. Addams alone. I won’t be long.”

You nodded in understanding, standing and making your way across the room, feeling Wednesday’s eyes on you the entire time as a soft clicking told you that Larissa was making her way over to her desk. You slipped into her quarters and closed the door behind yourself - the urge to eavesdrop was overwhelming, but you were certain Larissa would tell you what had happened later, so you took to rummaging around her kitchen for a snack and playing a game on your phone as you waited.

And tell you what happened, she did. It took a while but eventually Larissa returned to her quarters for the night, immediately finding you and pulling you in for a hug - one, it seemed, that she sorely needed. She told you she’d had to expel Wednesday, that she didn’t put much stock into the girl’s visions as Morticia’s had been just as unreliable, that she hoped, with Wednesday gone and Xavier locked up, the attacks would cease and the students could sit their end of semester exams in peace, life at Nevermore returning back to normal. 

You hoped she was right.

Then Larissa caught you yawning and glanced at the time - it was well past midnight, and she had a guilty look on her face for keeping you up as she insisted it was time to get some sleep. As you crawled into her bed and tugged at the sheets, a new addition to Larissa’s bedroom caught your eye - the painting, your painting, hung on the wall opposite the bed.

Larissa’s gaze followed your own, a blush rising on her cheeks as she realized what you were looking at. “I wanted to be able to see it every day. I think of you every time I look at it,” she murmured, almost too softly for you to hear - but you did, and it made you grin as you nuzzled into her side.

“Are you tired?” you asked Larissa softly. On the one hand, she looked absolutely exhausted - on the other, you could somehow tell she wasn’t going to fall asleep easily.

“No,” she confessed sheepishly, confirming your suspicions. 

You hummed thoughtfully, tracing your fingertips languidly over her collarbone. Larissa’s arms wound tightly around your waist, her lips pressed to the crown of your head in a firm, never-ending kiss. “I’m not tired either,” you said finally, your mind beginning to wander to all the ways you could potentially tire yourselves out, and Larissa chuckled in response. 

“You could hardly keep your eyes open a few minutes ago…”

“Well I’m wide awake now…” You slid your fingertips down Larissa’s sternum, towards the top of her silky camisole, and Larissa watched you with an amused smirk on her face.

“You’re not trying to seduce me, are you?” she teased, playfully narrowing her eyes - it made you blush as you realized you were doing a poor job of both hiding your building arousal and being seductive, and you averted your gaze.

“No?”

Larissa laughed. “Come here,” she murmured, adjusting herself into a seated position against the headboard and gently tugging at your waist. She placed a firm hand on your shoulder and turned you so that you sat between her legs with your back to her. You could feel her pillowy breasts against your back as you melted into her, her lips brushing against the shell of your ear.

“You’re so beautiful,” she whispered, her breath caressing the side of your face. She paid no mind to the ever-present blush on your cheeks as her left hand began to play with your breast through your t-shirt, her thumb flicking over your slowly hardening nipple. She lifted her right hand to her mouth, sucking her middle and ring finger between her lips for a moment, then released them with a pop - they glistened with her saliva as she brought the hand down to the waistband of your shorts.

“May I?” she husked and, when you breathed out a ‘yes’, slipped her hand beneath the waistband of both your shorts and your underwear - you immediately spread your legs to allow her better access. “Good girl��” 

Larissa��s wet fingers began to rub your clit, slowly and firmly, drawing a throaty sigh of pleasure from your lips as your head lolled to the side, your cheek resting against her shoulder. Her fingers dipped lower, gliding through your folds as her lips found your neck, pressing a series of soft kisses to your skin. You gasped when she bit into the junction between your neck and your shoulder, then moaned as her tongue soothed over the little dents her teeth had left in your skin.

“F-ffuck… Riss…” You bucked your hips against Larissa’s hand, wordlessly urging her towards your entrance - your silent request worked, two of Larissa’s fingers slipping inside you with ease and slowly sinking deeper. Your walls clenched around them, your eyes fluttering shut as you started to roll your hips, eager to have Larissa fill you.

Larissa’s fingers felt so damn good, the way they curled into your sweet spot, stroked your walls, made you mewl and whimper and moan - each ministration showed you how intimately Larissa knew your body, how dedicated she was to bringing you over the edge.

Your mind quickly filled with dirty thoughts and your arousal skyrocketed as you pictured Larissa above you, filling you to the hilt, pounding into you, and, suddenly, you ached for a stretch her fingers couldn’t quite provide.

“R-riss…?” you murmured between gasps of pleasure. Larissa let out a questioning hum that vibrated against your neck, causing you to mewl softly and briefly lose your train of thought. “C-can you… I m-mean would y-you want to - mmmh, fuck…” 

You’d never asked Larissa to shift for you before - during each of the few times she’d done it in the past, she’d always been the one to suggest it, and you suddenly found yourself unsure if she would take it the wrong way, as if you didn’t think she was enough for you just the way she was.

“What do you need, darling?” Larissa prompted directly into your ear, her voice so raspy with desire that it nearly made your eyes roll back in your head.

“C-could you shift and - mmh - f-fuck me?” you finally stuttered out, holding your breath as you waited for an answer - your nerves rising when Larissa’s fingers briefly stilled inside of you. “It’s okay if you d-don’t want to, I shouldn’t h-have as-”

The breath was knocked from your lungs by the sudden feeling of Larissa’s bulge pressing against your tailbone, the rest of your sentence dying in your throat as your mouth went dry.

“Shh…” Larissa murmured in reassurance. “I’m glad that you asked… I want to.” You could tell from the way that the words dripped from her lips like honey, her voice low and velvety, that she did want to - the second your mind was free of doubts, you pressed yourself back against her, the breathy sigh tumbling from your lips mixing with the deep moan that emanated from Larissa’s chest.

Larissa pulled her fingers out of you, her hands trailing up your body, slipping underneath your t-shirt and tugging it up, up, up, until she’d freed your upper body entirely. The t-shirt was tossed haphazardly aside, and Larissa’s hands immediately found your breasts, groping and squeezing, toying with your nipples, pulling moans and whimpers from your lips as she subtly rocked her hips against you from behind, grinding against your tailbone, teasing both herself and you.

“R-riss…” you warned breathily, your arousal so intense, so burning, so all-consuming that you could hardly stand it. 

“Sorry,” Larissa let out with a chuckle that was just as breathy, just as laced with desire, and she gripped your hips, urging you from between her legs and encouraging you to lie back against the pillows, so that she could get on her knees between your legs to make quick work of your shorts and underwear and toss them onto the floor beside the bed. She slipped her fingers beneath the waistband of her own trousers and gave them a tug, revealing black, lacy underwear that clearly wasn’t made to contain the bulge straining inside of it. Your legs spread a little wider without you realizing it, revealing your dripping cunt to Larissa, who quickly removed her remaining clothing to reveal her hard cock. 

She leaned over you, placing one hand beside your head to prop herself up as her other hand began to caress the outside of your thigh, sliding down to the back of your knee and urging you to bend it and spread yourself open as far as you could. She took hold of her cock and ran the tip up your slit, her cheeks flushing and her eyelashes fluttering as she felt how wet you were. “Fuck…” she mumbled, finding your entrance and slowly pushing in.

The stretch felt incredible, and Larissa was careful to go slowly, taking her time as she sheathed herself inside of you. It was hard to keep your eyes open but you wanted to watch Larissa, wanted to see every micro-expression crossing her face as she fucked you, so you fought against your fluttering eyelids, one of your hands reaching to grab Larissa’s forearm next to your head, needing the physical contact.

Larissa gave you a moment to adjust to the feeling of being full once she’d bottomed out inside of you, her now free hand reaching up to cup your cheek and draw you in for a kiss that was so tender it made your heart clench. 

Your cunt followed suit, your walls fluttering around Larissa’s cock as you started to subtly rock your hips against hers. “Mmmh… p-please…”

Every single nerve-ending in your body seemed to light up as Larissa began to thrust, the drag of her cock in and out of you feeling heavenly against your tight, slick walls. Larissa’s hand slid from your cheek to your throat, closing gently around it as her tongue pushed your lips apart and flicked eagerly against your own, her hair falling in waves around your face, acting as curtains and shutting out everything that wasn’t her.

There was something about her moans when she was fucking you with her own cock that drove you mad - they were deep, guttural, loud, a tangible representation of how good you made her feel as she started to pound into you. The air filled with the sounds of skin slapping against skin, your moans mixing with Larissa’s grunts, the occasional bump of the bed frame against the wall. It was obscene and it made your head spin - judging by the arousal written plain as day across Larissa’s face, she was feeling exactly the same way, her eyes scrunched shut in absolute bliss.

You managed to pull a vulgar groan from Larissa’s chest when you sucked her tongue between your lips, humming against it, and her hips picked up their pace, your body jolting with every thrust. You reached a shaky hand between your legs, rubbing your clit with desperation, your breath hitching audibly in your chest.

Feeling the coil behind your navel tighten rapidly, you released Larissa’s tongue from between her lips to mumble out “f-fuck, g-gonna cum…”, your head tipping back against the pillows and your back arching as you tried your best to keep it together so that you and Larissa could cum together.

“It’s okay, d-darling,” Lariss murmured hoarsely against your lips. “‘m - ahh - c-close… let go…”

With Larissa’s permission, you came undone - unraveling completely beneath her. No longer able to keep your eyes open, you rode out your high with your eyes slammed shut, stars exploding against the backs of your eyelids, your orgasm prolonged by the feeling of Larissa trembling above you as she came as well, emptying her load into your cunt.

“Mmmm…” Larissa let out a breathy hum as her muscles began to relax and her cock went soft inside of you, and you could tell that her orgasm had tired her out - which had been your goal in the first place. She slumped against you, her hand releasing your throat and fisting at the sheets next to your head instead, her breath hot and heavy against your collarbone.

Your arms wrapped around her automatically, pulling her tightly against you, her skin warm and sweaty against your own. Her head rested in the crook of your neck, and she brushed her lips against your pulse point with a soft sigh and a sleepy smile.

~~~

The following morning was a slow one for you, with Larissa rising early to take care of some things before she had to drive Wednesday to the train station. 

You curled up on what had unofficially become your side of the bed, your eyes heavy-lidded with sleep as you watched Larissa get ready at her vanity, prying each and every bobby pin open with straight, white teeth, holding them between long, nimble fingers and sliding them into her hair, her usual updo slowly taking shape. It reminded you so much of the first time you woke up in this bed, a little confused and a little embarrassed and just a tad nervous - only this time, you were none of those things. 

Nestled beneath the covers and looking up at Larissa, who twirled her silvery locks between her fingers, whose bright blue eyes danced over her reflection in the mirror as she made herself presentable, you felt a sense of safety, content, of love so overwhelming that it stole the air from your lungs. And this time, instead of frantically trying to cover your bare torso with the sheets, you simply nuzzled against your pillow and allowed sleep to pull your eyes shut again, drifting back to sleep as Larissa took care not to wake you.

You woke a few hours later and took your time getting dressed and making coffee before heading for the door to Larissa’s office with two mugs in hand. You listened first for any signs that Larissa could be on the phone or in a meeting, before using your elbow to gently ease the door open just a crack and peeking into the office.

Larissa’s head turned automatically at the sound, her frantic typing ceasing almost instantly and her lips curling into a soft smile. “Good morning, darling,” she hummed, beckoning you into her office.

“Coffee?” you asked as you strode over to her desk, placing one of the mugs in front of Larissa and the other at the edge of her desk as you leaned down for a kiss, which the principal eagerly returned.

“Thank you,” she murmured against your lips, cupping your cheek as she pulled away. She brushed her thumb across your lower lip for a moment, her eyes tracking the movement, watching your lip snap back into place as she retracted her hand. Her attention fell to her coffee and she closed her eyes as she took a sip. “This is so much better than the coffee in the teacher’s lounge.” 

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to sleep in so late…” Your brow furrowed as you saw the empty mug on Larissa’s desk, not one of her own. “Why did you go all the way there instead of just coming into the kitchen?”

“I didn’t want to wake you,” she replied simply. “You deserve the sleep.”

Your heart swelled at that, so much so that it was hard to keep the smile off your face. “And you deserve good coffee,” you countered with a raised eyebrow.

“I mean it, sleep in while you can.” Larissa smirked. “When you get to my age, your body will start to wake you up early against your will.”

You started to giggle, which turned into a full belly laugh, drawing a chuckle out of Larissa as well. Larissa returned to her work shortly thereafter and left you to prepare some food, as it was almost lunchtime. A meeting would cut Larissa’s lunch break short, but you joined her at her desk to soak in her company while you ate.

At a quarter to four, Larissa snapped her laptop shut and stood from her desk with a heavy sigh. “I want to take you to dinner tonight,” she declared as she slipped her phone into her handbag and rummaged around the top drawer of her desk for her car keys. 

“Yes, ma’am.” You grinned up at her, rising to your feet as well to meet Larissa halfway for a quick kiss.

“Wednesday’s train leaves in an hour, I should be back around 5 at the latest,” Larissa added as she headed for the door, and you called out a goodbye before she shut the door to her office behind herself. You figured that, if Larissa would be back at 5, and would probably want to check her emails again and get changed, you’d be heading out for dinner around 6:30 at the earliest - plenty of time to just chill. 

You ended up getting more time than you’d bargained for - when Larissa still wasn’t back by 5:15, you shot her a quick text, asking if everything was alright. Perhaps Wednesday’s train was delayed, you figured, that wouldn’t surprise you considering how public transportation could be around these parts.

Still, it wasn’t like Larissa to not answer at all, to not even read your text, and you found yourself growing increasingly worried when the clock hit 5:45 and you still hadn’t heard a peep from your partner, your stomach churning uncomfortably.

You stood from where you’d been seated in front of the fire, pacing about as you wondered how much she would have to be delayed to warrant calling the police. As you stood by the window, watching the sky slowly darken as the sun disappeared on the horizon, two figures came into view, crossing the courtyard and heading straight for what appeared to be a large conservatory at the edge of the school’s property.

The back of the young boy’s head looked vaguely familiar, though you couldn’t be quite sure. What you were sure of, however, was that you recognized the girl at his side - and that she was not supposed to be here.

x

Taglist: @littledollll @nlr-33 @mysaviorfalsegod @imlike-so-gaydude @rainbow-hedgehog @enchantressb @alder-saan @autumn-leaves-chasing-breeze @amateurwritescm @brienneswife @principal-weems09 @messynessi @larissaoftarthweems @anti-bright-places @lvinhs @catechristiesstuff @ladyzmilf002 @milfsloverblog @opheliauniverse @orangeisnttheonlyfruit @im-a-carnivorous-plant @alexusonfire @bigolgay @kimiinou @wastdstime @scream-queenlover @imprincipalweemspet @justcallmelittleone @willowshadenox @milfsloverblog @leftoverenvy @yahaqueen @peggycarter3 @lilfartbox1 @makemyworldworthliving @crow-raven-crow @mosscoveredcrucifix @opalthefrog @barbarasstar @giogwensversion @theswordmaiden @sapphictacobomb @jadewolf22

[trippinsorrows]

without you + three

authors note: welp. the ball is, gradually, rolling.

do not read this story if you haven’t read ’with me’. it won’t work as a standalone.

warnings: none

song inspo: be without you by mary j. blige

one + two

words: 4k

“I’ve been thinking.”

“That’s never a good thing.” Removing your eyes from the book in hand, you glare and flip your soon to be ex-fiance off if he keeps playing with you like this. 

Of course, he simply laughs as you shove on Joe’s shoulder.. “I’m serious.”

His hand moves to your stomach, rubbing a circle as he beckons, “tell me.”

Using the bookmark on the comforter, you stick it in the page you’re on and lay it against the side of you. “I think we should take Callie back so she can have her graduation.”

Joe looks over at you, brows furrowed. “I thought we were just going to do something here?”

“I know, and I think we still can, but I don’t want to take that from her. She was really excited about graduating.” It’s something you’ve been thinking about a lot, both as a teacher and a mom. It’s so important for children to feel and be able to celebrate their accomplishments. Sure, it’s only preschool, but it’s still a big deal for her.

You want her to be able to celebrate with her ‘classmates.’

And you express as such.

“She should be able to celebrate with the other kids. Plus, and I know right now, she’s still excited about them, but I don’t know, something tells me she’s going to struggle with some form of jealousy when the babies get here.”

Joe nods, not necessarily disagreeing with you. “But, that’s not entirely abnormal, right?”

“No, doesn’t mean it’ll be any easier to deal with though.” Frowning, it’s only now you also think about how that might be for you as well. For almost five years, you’ve been able to devote all of your time and attention onto one child. 

Now, it’s about to be four.

“Hey.” Joe, forever adept at reading you, brings his hand to your chin, forcing your gaze to land on him. “We’ll handle it together, alright?”

His words, as per usual, comfort you greatly. “You’re right.” His thumb flicks your chin, as you chuckle. “It’s probably good her little spoiled self is spending all this time with you now. Before she has to share you.”

His scowl makes you snort as he drops his hand back to your ever growing belly. “She’s not spoiled.”

“Joe, as the kids say, be so fucking for real.”

“What?”

Ignoring the fact that this man literally probably still has an AOL email with out of touch he is, you continue with your very valid point. “That little girl is spoiled rotten. You give her whatever she wants.”

“She doesn’t ask for much.”

“Not you being in straight up denial.” He’s so down bad for Callie Bear. It’s not even funny. “Need I remind you of her little tantrum two weeks ago? Baby, the way you folded so quickly should have been recorded. Tribal Chief, my ass. Got taken down by a four year old.”

Joe shoves you gently. “Shut up.”

Laughing, you continue, “just admit it, she has you wrapped around her lil’ finger, and she knows it. That’s why she tried you the way she did, but I mean it, next time it happens, and it will, set her little butt straight. She can take it.”

Joe’s frown doesn’t make it any easier for you to hold in your laughter. “I don’t like being mean to her.”

“It’s not being mean, baby. It’s being a parent. As much as she loves to play with you like you’re one of her little friends, you’re not. You’re her dad. She needs to respect you as such.”

“She does,” he defends, and you sigh, knowing this is probably just a battle you won’t win. Quieting down, you decide to switch topics to something you’ve been thinking more about as you prepare for the arrival of your children.

“I’m gonna tell her, you know. When she gets older, that I’m the reason you weren’t there the first few years of her life.”

Joe sits up in the bed, removing his hand from your stomach, concern evident all over his handsome face. “Y/N—”

You lift your hand to silence him. “No, she’s going to eventually ask, and I’m not going to lie to her. Whatever anger she feels would be justified, and I’ll handle it.” 

You’ve thought about this more and more as you progress with your pregnancy. The fact that these babies will get to experience Joe from day one when Callie didn’t. There’s undeniable unfairness, and should she ever want to know just why Joe was MIA at the beginning, you will be honest with her.

You’ll make sure she knows that it was you who decided to keep her a secret from her father. How specific you’ll get will depend on her age, but you’re not a fan of lying to and holding secrets from kids when it directly impacts them.

You know firsthand how thinking your dad didn’t want to be around can fuck with someone’s mental.

You won’t let that be the case with Callie.

Joe looks just as bothered, like he doesn’t want you doing anything that could impact how Callie sees you. “You don’t have to do that.”

“Oh, but I do and will, baby.” You place your hand to his cheek, his beard a little more outgrown and slightly unkempt as he truly relaxes in the embrace of vacation. “Because that’s one thing I never did and would never do. I never let anyone say any disrespectful shit about you not being in Callie’s life. Amir would try it a lot, and I shot him down every time.”

The mention of Amir brings a scowl to Joe’s handsome face. It’s a bit of a distraction technique you’re grateful worked. This will also be a revisited topic over the years, clearly. “I don’t know what the fuck you saw in him.”

Small smile on your face, you shrug, “he’s not ugly, and his dick was decent.” And before he can say anything smug and smart, “yours is better, duh. Why you think I’m giving you all these kids, huh?” He smiles and shakes his head. “You gotta have God tier dick for me to push out not one but gonna be four of your big headed ass children. Boy, I wish you would try to leave me. You gon be wrestling into your eighties with how much I’ll come for you in child support.”

He rolls his eyes and kisses your temple, “you know I’m not going anywhere and neither are you.”

“Of course not, who the hell is gonna want me with all these damn kids?” The topic at hand reminds you of the book on the side of your bed, the previous reason you two were taking a break from figuring out your approach for letting friends and family know about the courthouse wedding. “Now, we really need to start deciding on names. I’m almost five months.” Pretty soon you’ll be finding out the sexes of the babies. It’s crazy to you how quickly this pregnancy is passing by, most likely due to the happiness you feel. 

Time flies when life is good. 

“Did you get Callie’s list?” 

He curses. “Shit, I forgot.”

You wave him off. “No worries.” Sitting further up in bed, you shout out, “Callie Bear! Bring us your list for baby names!” 

She doesn’t say anything, and you start to try again when she comes running into the room, Disney notebook in one hand and her American Doll in the other. She doesn’t hesitate to climb onto the bed and sit on her knees at the end, “here you go, mommy!”

You accept her notebook that’s already opened to her list of potential baby names that she came up with. “Thank you, baby.” Callie switches to sitting with her legs crossed, her doll that looks just like her, courtesy of her rich ass daddy, smack dab in the middle. “Let’s see.”

A smile falls on your face as you share the notebook with Joe, pointing out the first name that he also smiles at. 

“Moana.” Predictable. So predictable. “Maui. Hei Hei. Tamatoa.” Joe coughs beside you to clearly hold in his laugh. “Baby….are these all names from Moana?”

Callie nods happily. “And Toy Story and Encanto and The Little Mermaid,” she essentially continues to sing-song list off damn near every Disney movie ever created. “The babies have to like Disney too, mommy! Like me, you, and Grandma.”

“You’re so right.” To be fair, you really shouldn’t have expected too much more. She is one Disney loving kid, through and through. “Well, thank you so much for the list, Callie Bear.”

“Daddy, did you make a list?” She asks, head tilted as she gently caresses the top of her doll’s head.

“Not yet, baby. Mommy and I are gonna make one together.” 

“I like baby Moana.” 

He chuckles. “But you’re our little Moana.”

She pouts and corrects, “no, I’m Callie.” Her sass makes you laugh. Joe wasn’t entirely wrong. She really is a lot like you sometimes. “I want a baby sister named Moana.”

“What if they’re all boys?”

You and Callie have similar reactions. It’s just that yours is one of horror and hers is more of shock.

“Noooo, I want a little sister.” 

Adding onto Callie’s vehement protest, you make your own strong thoughts and feelings known. “And I am not pushing out three boys at once, Joe. You done lost your god—”

“What do you want for your birthday, Callie Bear?” You’re partially thankful for the save but also irritated he’s asking this question he already knows is gonna generate a wild ass answer.

“A puppy!”

See.

You do your best to use the perfect combination of understanding yet assertiveness. “Baby, we done had this conversation before, we are not getting a puppy until you’re at least ten.”

“But, I’ll be old!”

“Exactly, old enough to take care of a puppy.” One look at Joe, and you can see he’s about to open his mouth and probably find some reason to ‘agree’ with or at least defend Callie’s request. “Absolutely not. No dog until she’s older, and that’s final.”

Callie, understandably, does not agree nor like this rule, and it’s evident in her deep pout and the way she crosses her arms over her little body. “Not fair.”

“Life ain’t fair, buttercup.” You retort, quickly reminding her as you take in her appearance. “Speaking of, it’s almost time for your wash day….”

The infamous, dreaded day of nonstop hair washing and styling is enough to wipe her smile away and award her a brand new reason to start whining, “I don’t want to.”

The feeling is mutual. “Neither does mommy, but we gotta do it eventually, Callie Bear.” Looking over at Joe, you inform him, “and you will be present for this ordeal, sir, so you can learn how to do her hair for me.”

He looks confused, nose turned up. A chuckle is withheld at how much he and his daughter mimic each other in this situation. “Baby, I don’t know how to do hair.”

Sucking your teeth, you smartly point out, “you do your own!”

“I barely do anything with my hair. You know this.” 

Damn. He’s right. Lucky ass. “Regardless, when I get too big to be bending over the sink like that, someone’s gonna have to do it.”

Of course, Joe’s smartass just decides to throw out something that should probably be discussed before saying around Callie, “I’ll take her to your mom.”

Callie’s eyes light up a bit. “Grandma!”

“Joe.” Lord, this man got too much money or something. “You seriously are going to fly our daughter out to my hometown so my mama can do her hair?”

He shrugs, clearly not seeing an issue with what’s being proposed. “Yeah.”

Rolling your eyes and shaking your head, you lean further back in the pillows of the bed. “You are too—” However, you’re cut short mid-sentence, face and chest dropping simultaneously, the change in your disposition enough to catch Joe’s attention. 

“What’s wrong?” He’s sitting up even more, expertly masking the concern that’s growing by the second. Recognizing this, you will that small smile to start forming on your face, shaking your head as you motion for him and Callie to move closer.

“Mommy?” Callie is just as confused as you reach for both her and Joe’s hands, placing them on your belly, trying to find the spot of origin. “What—”

This time, she’s the one to stop mid-sentence as she feels it, the sensation you last felt when you were pregnant with her. Callie’s face is still set with understandable confusion, but your gaze on Joe reveals minimal concern and an abundance of amazement. 

“What is that, mommy?” Callie finally asks. The emotion in your throat takes you back a bit. You’re not typically a super emotional person, but there’s something about this moment, about feeling your babies kick for the first time and being able to share it with your fiance and child that does something to you. Knocks at those pillars that hold up your resolve. 

“That’s the babies. They’re kicking.” You explain, smiling a bit as Callie looks at you in horror.

“Why are they hurting you?”

“They’re not, sweetie. That’s what babies do. As they get bigger and grow, they need to move around and sometimes kick. You did the same thing to me.” Adding some playfulness into your voice, there’s a level of relief to see she appears less concerned. 

Your attention, however, is brought back to Joe as he kisses your temple, hand still planted on your stomach, clearly soaking up every bit of this precious, cherished moment. 

“I love you,” he murmurs against your temple. It’s such a simple statement, a little three letter sentence that means more than anyone could ever understand. Moving your hand to the side of his face, you both laugh as Callie moves her face to your stomach. 

“Don’t kick mommy too much, okay, little babies?” The determination on her face should be captured and locked away for safekeeping for the rest of time. “She’s the bestest mommy ever and pretty and smart and—”

“—and still not getting you a puppy.” While your daughter is undoubtedly one of the sweetest kids you’ve ever come across, she’s also intelligent as hell. And you know her like the back of your hand. Enough to know where she’s headed with this. 

And, you’re proven correct when she rolls her eyes again, making a ‘hmmph’ sound that has Joe chuckling next to you. She then sets her little plotting sights on Joe as she takes her hand from your stomach and moves to crawl into his lap.

You have to keep yourself from rolling your own eyes as she pulls out that sickeningly sweet voice and holds onto his shirt. “Daddy?”

Joe doesn’t hesitate to answer right away. “Yes, baby?” One look at him, and you already know what the answer is going to be. This man is so weak for this little girl. It’s not even funny. 

“Hallie wants a friend…..” Joe’s eyebrows cave in confusion as he looks over at you. 

Gesturing to her American Girl doll on the edge of the bed, you fill him in, “that’s what she named the doll.” 

He chuckles, clearly amused by the name that rhymes with hers. “She does?”

Callie nods, that excitement building back up. “Two friends!”

Mouth dropping, you prepare to put this child in her place when Daddy Warbucks beats you to it, living up to his reputation.

“Well, then we need to get her two friends.”

“Yay!” Callie celebrates, hugging Joe who ignores your look of disapproval. “Can I make her friends too?” 

And once again, the first living, breathing bank to ever exist is quick to fold. “Of course, Callie Bear.”

“Yay!” She cheers yet again for another way too easy battle. It’s not even a battle at this point. Battle would mean that both parties have somewhat of a chance, and Joe is clearly putty for his little girl. “Thank you, daddy.” She seals the deal with a hug and kiss on his cheek before climbing off the bed, grabbing Hallie as she shares, “I’m gonna make them now!”

With her tablet, clearly. The tablet you’d bet any money Joe once again disabled the time limits on. 

Lord, you’re about to have five damn children to take care of at this point. 

It’s only when Callie is out of the room and on her way to celebrate yet another successful day of finessing her daddy that you punch this man in his big ass arm. 

“What?” It’s him having the audacity to sound and look confused that has you ready to kick him out of the room. 

“What do you mean what?” Angling your body more toward him, you explain, “Joe, why are you buying her more dolls? American Girl dolls, at that. I know you must have paid at least $300 for the first one you got her. I saw all them accessories.” He rolls his eyes but doesn’t deny it, because he can’t. Callie had always asked you for one, and while you could have scraped some money together to make it happen, you couldn’t come to grips with just how many other more useful things one could do with that money. “She doesn’t need them dolls, babe.”

“You gon’ let her get a puppy now?”

An easy ass answer. “Hell no.”

He has the nerve to catch a slight attitude with you as he affirms, “then she’s getting the dolls.”

Rubbing your temples, you realize this isn’t a ‘fight’ you’re not going to win. “You know what, whatever. You do what you want, but I’m telling you right now, these—” You bring his hand back to your belly. “—babies are not going to be spoiled like their big sister. They gon be like Oliver Twist and grateful for a bowl of soup.”

He moves his hand around, probably trying to see if he can feel any more movement. “Callie is grateful.”

“For now.” Not really wanting to have this circular dialogue with him, you grab your phone to see a couple missed texts but open the one from your mom first, instantly rolling your eyes. “Not this again.”

The shift in your voice catches Joe’s attention. “What?”

Shaking your head, you show him the thread, thumb right next to the link for an article on ‘melanin maternal mental health’. 

Talk about fucking alliteration. 

“I don’t know what’s been up with her lately, but she’s been sending me all these links for articles and like motivational photos about mental health and motherhood.” You explain to him, going to heart the message and send a quick response to at least show some appreciation. Because there is a little there. That your mom cares about you so much. But the concern isn’t necessarily valid or needed..

This is the happiest you’ve been in some time. A long time. If ever.

Nothing is going to change that.

Especially being a mother to three more children. 

Placing your phone back on the nightstand, a glance at Joe reveals he’s debating something. “What?”

He moves closer to you, hand pushing back some of your coils. “Been thinking about that movie thing…..”

The smile on your face grows as you move closer, eyes twinkling with all the curiosity in the world. “What did you decide?”

—------

Megan is having a wonderful day.

One of the best she’s had in a while.

Not only did she manage to wake up on time, but the coffee she ordered from this cute little cafe she found while on a business trip in Denver a couple months ago awaited her on the outside of her apartment door when she got back from her pilates class the night before.

And there’s few things she loves more than a delicious cup of morning Joe.

A smirk falls on her face as she hums “Here Comes the Bride” while engaging in her extensive shower routine, admiring the expert work of her wax lady. Body hair has always been an absolute no. But, it’s when she moves the loofah across the weight of her heavy breast that Megan imagines hands and not her loofah. Big hands that would cup her boobs roughly as he forces her to turn around, slams her up against the shower wall and fucks her hard from behind, her moans and shouts of pleasure dancing across the tile, alerting everyone of just who owns this pussy.

Hand gliding down her wet, nude body, she keeps the vision going, slender thighs clenching together at the thought of him forcing her on her knees, his dick down the back of her throat, eyes watering as he mouth fucks her.

“Joe….” Thin fingers slip past wet folds as she realizes she’s going to be a couple minutes late for work.

So worth it though. 

Because Megan hasn’t come like that in years. Her legs are practically wobbly as she finally exits the shower, bathroom mirror completely fogged to where she has to grab a towel to clear up a section so she can see herself.

The pink tinge of her cheek brings a sly smile to her face. 

“I can’t wait until we can be together, my love…” A sweep of sadness comes over her as she grabs her phone, admiring his handsome face on her lock screen and opens Apple Music to play his entrance music, selecting the repeat button before she continues with her routine. 

It takes her about the usual time.

And soon enough, Megan is out the door, having finished her delicious coffee and opted to just have a banana for breakfast. There’s no time for unnecessary caloric intake.

She has to start preparing for the wedding. 

Walking into the office, right away, she can detect the almost sullen atmosphere and does her best to match the vibe.

To play along. 

And before she can go to her office bestie, Paige, to “find out” why everything feels so off, the team is pulled in for a mandatory meeting.

Luke’s quiet demeanor does take her a bit back. He’s never quiet. She’s not complaining though. Not at all.

As soon as everyone is seated, he starts off with the general pleasantries that are weighed by the sadness in his voice. And then he gets into it. “I know some of you have heard, but for those who haven’t, I—uh—I got some bad news.” He takes a deep breath, shaking his head. “There’s uh—no way to say this, but Susan Jackson was found dead this morning.”

As an array of gasps and shocked countenances fill the room, Megan does her best to blend in, to play along with the genuine surprise of all of her coworkers.

Paige leans over to whisper to Megan, eyes also watery, “they say she killed herself. That she was found her on the sidewalk in front of her apartment building. Window was open and everything.”

Megan expertly fakes a horrified expression. “Oh my god, how heartbreaking.” She even manages to crank out some tears that don’t shed but get the job done. “I can’t believe she’s gone….”

“Megan.” She lifts her head, eyebrows also raising. “I know you worked close with Susan on a couple of clients, and you also know she was set to assist Roman Reigns on his debut film, but with Susan gone….”

Megan shakes her head, pulling out a few sniffles. “It’s okay. I’ll….I’ll do it. I’ll take Reigns as my client.”

And my husband.

Luke gives her a nod of appreciation, wiping at his eyes as he clears his throat and continues to address the room.

It takes almost everything in her not to roll her eyes. The woman was fucking fifty for crying out loud. 

She lived long enough. 

He says something about grief counseling, the suicide hotline, blah blah blah.

Megan does her best to listen but mostly tunes out the rest of the meeting. It’s irrelevant. She has what she wants. Now, it’s time to go after who she wants, the thought alone creating such an intense, euphoric feeling inside of her stomach as she casually traces the brand new tiny letter ‘J’ she now has tattooed on her ring finger.