#and that's the girl sobbing on her kitchen floor

[rafeschicana]

𐙚˙✧˖°📷 ༘ ⋆｡ ˚ daddy’s girl 𐙚˙✧˖°📷 ༘ ⋆｡ ˚

dad!rafe x mom!reader

read more of this family here🤍

your favorite reality tv show played in the background as you lay out on the floor playing with your 10-month-old daughter. “those sensory skills are amazing ari girl” you cooed as she stacked the colorful rings on the rock-a-stack. she clapped her hands placing the last one. “ouuuu good job baby!” you joined in on her happy claps.

“wanna go again?” you cracked up as Ari stared at you waiting for you to knock the toy over. reaching over you knocked the toy over with a theatrical “woahhhh” ari full on belly laughed, her tiny legs and hands kicking excitedlyly. “is that funny mi amor” you giggled as you flooded her with belly kissies.

ari’s laughter died down as she listened to the front door knob jiggling. already getting into a crawling position forgetting all bout her toys. ari knew who was strolling through that door and it made her very excited. “who is that baby?” you grinned running a soft hand down her back.

“is it dada?” you gasped when rafe came through the door shopping bags in hand. ari’s squealing was precious, rafe’s head quickly veering around towards the both of you. “my babies were you waiting for daddy?” rafe grinned as he locked the front door back up. ari crawled up to him in what felt like seconds. your babe had the zoomies whenever she saw her papa. her babbles non-stop as if she was informing rafe alll about her day. rafe bent down placing a quick kiss onto her forehead. “one second baby let me go put these groceries down then ill give you and mama all the loving okay?”

ari’s lip quickly constructing in a pout. “aww baby you gonna make daddy cry stop” rafe quickly ran to drop the groceries onto the kitchen counter. ari was now full on sobbing as you soothed her. “baby, daddy is coming in a second” you giggled as she suckled on her paci. “where's my girl?” rafe came back around the corner arms open wide. “she’s such a daddy's girl” you laughed as rafe gently scooped her from your arms. her head instantly resting in the crook of his neck fiddiling with his chain.

“c’mere mama” he rasped. stepping forward your front met his chest. “you smell good” you smiled. lips meeting his in an intimate kiss. his free hand stroking gentle circles on your lower back. pulling away from the kiss when his hand gradually moved down giving your ass a squeeze. “you're so sneaky” you giggled.

“Ari baby if your mama keeps walking around looking this good” rafe licked his lips eyeing you up and down. “you might just get a little sibling sooner than later” ari's tiny hand moving towards her dad’s mouth covering it. “i don't think she wants to share you just yet!” you smirked squishing her cheeks between your fingers “isn't that right baby?” both you and rafe busted out in laughter as ari clapped her hands.

[grilledcheeseandguavajelly]

“Agatha can’t control her powers and kills a bunch of people, this explains why Death is in love with her because it means she gets more bodies” No.

No no no.

I need “Agatha can’t control her powers and the first time someone blasted her with their magic they died right in front of her and she was only seven years old and terrified and alone until suddenly there was a small little girl across from her who gently took her hand and told her it was okay”

I need “Agatha can’t control her powers and had a tantrum, purple exploding out of her, but the other witch was too fast and Agatha blinked and they were dead on the ground and she scrambled back against the wall, curling up into a little ball and shaking, shaking, shaking, until someone just as young and soft as her stroked her hair back and told her they knew it was an accident”

I need “Agatha can’t control her powers and was beaten and bruised by her mother until she couldn’t take it anymore and ran off into the woods and was blasted by someone who thought she was a witch hunter, and she didn’t even realize what was happening until it was too late. Agatha climbing into a tree and scraping her cheek and trembling as she stared at the lifeless witch, something rattling deep inside of her that sounded like a stranger’s voice. And then the stranger appearing through the thick, standing over the dead body and instantly looking up, looking for Agatha. Finding her in the tree and climbing in with her. Smoothing a thumb across her cheek until it didn’t sting anymore”

I need “Agatha can’t control her powers and any spell she tries goes haywire, the final teacher that swore she could fix her grey and lifeless on the floor as Agatha sat up on the kitchen table and just stared and stared, tears falling, always falling, until that familiar face appeared through the bedroom doorway, watching Agatha, not the woman, and threaded their fingers together. Guided her to cracked, dusty skin and forced her to feel it, hand pressing hers into dead flesh and murmuring ‘exceptional’ under her breath before explaining every single step of reaping a soul. Talking and talking until Agatha wasn’t crying anymore, until she couldn’t remember why she had been upset in the first place”

I need “Agatha can’t control her powers but she also couldn’t control her temper, and suddenly half of a coven was dead before her, barely eighteen years old, and then the girl, also freshly a woman, the closest thing she knew to having a friend, sliding up behind her and placing a hand on her shoulder, wiping her tears away. Shushing her pleas of ‘why can’t I control it? Why do I ruin everything I touch?’ with soft murmurs of ‘there’s nothing wrong with you. You didn’t kill them. They simply… bent to your power.’”

I need “Agatha can’t control her powers but she sure as hell tried, until she was tied to a stake and her coven fell at her feet and her mother crumpled before her, hellbent until the moment she died to punish Agatha for things she had never meant to do. Agatha, with her grief and her relief and her freedom, finally, somehow still sobbing over her mother’s death, curled up far away and safe in the woods. Safe until Death came for her, hands cupping her face too tenderly, too delicately, and forced Agatha to meet her eyes. Death, who had somehow become the only one to ever show her mercy and kindness and compassion, leaning her forehead against hers and whispering ‘it’s okay. I am so proud of you.” Death leaning in so, so hesitantly and pressing the smallest kiss to her mouth. Breaths hitching. Eyes meeting. Long, loaded stares and trembling fingers and Death herself smiling at Agatha like she actually meant it. Agatha fisting her cloak and yanking her closer and letting Death suck the air right out of her lungs, and Agatha somehow living anyway”

That’s what I need.

[evie-sturns]

toddler - Matt Sturniolo

summary: having 2 toddlers isn't the easiest, espically when you're currently pissed at your husband matt after an argument. one night you get pushed to the point of a breakdown when the kids won't behave and matt's there to help you.

contains: dad!matt, fluff, slightly suggestive , crying, slight mental breakdown, comforting, angst?

a/n: this was loosely based off of how daddy matt was in today's vid.

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

7:38pm

matt and i had an argument last night leaving me in tears, he’s been in his bedroom this whole day leaving me to deal with our two twins which are both 3 and a half.

i attempt to cook up something that somewhat resembles a dinner for our girls but the only thing occupying my mind is the events of what happened last night.

yesterday

“why is this house always so fucking messy!” matt’s voice booms throughout the living room as he abruptly stands up

“shit, i don’t know maybe because you got me pregnant at 18 and i’m the only one who does anything for the kids our this house!” i raise my voice back at him

matt lets out a shocked laugh “sorry that some people have fucking jobs and don’t lay on their ass with the kids all day and call it tiring?”

“lay on my ass? i clean, i cook, i take the girls to daycare and i bring them home, i do everything”

“if everything includes not having a fucking job and using up my money that i earn then sure, you do a whole lot” matt says with a slight attitude.

“all you fucking do is act like you have it hard when you don’t! get a fucking grip” he yells

the whole room goes silent, i erupt into tears and walk out of the room to our spare bedroom

“and always fucking crying.” i hear him scoff, only making my state worse.

—

my thoughts are cut off by a wail coming from behind me, my head spins back to see millie with a fistful of claire’s hair, yanking.

i instantly drop the wooden spoon into the pot before speed walking towards the twins

“stop it!” i yell, grabbing millie from under her arms and staring into her eyes angrily “go find daddy, not acceptable millie.” i raise my voice, placing her down.

she folds her arms with a huff, stomping her little legs down the corridor to matt and i’s shared room.

“you’re okay claire” i coo, fixing her pigtail which sits on the very top of her head

i pick her up and place her down on the couch with one of her stuffed animals before making my way back towards the kitchen.

i turn down the heat on the stovetop slightly with an exhausted sigh

suddenly i hear small giggles coming from behind me followed by the backs of my knees being pushed

“fuck!” i yell, stumbling over and grabbing the handle to the pot, spilling boiling spaghetti onto the floor, also splashing up onto my sweater.

millie goes silent before sprinting in the other direction with claire

as of things couldn’t get any worse right now i hear matt’s voice start something

“what are you actually fucking doin-“ he cuts himself off when he sees the state i’m in

i burst into sobs, matt looks down at me with concern painted across his face

“hey- shh sh you’re okay, you’re okay.” he says frantically, walking over to me and kneeling on the floor

“matt i can’t do this the kids aren’t behaving and i can’t fucking make them something they’ll like-“ i start, saying in between shaking breaths

he carefully picks me up from under my arms before switching his grip to the back of my thighs, i bury my face into his shoulders and feel matt take in panicked breaths

he speed walks us down into our bedroom at the end of the corridor, “are you hurt sweetheart?” he says, placing me down on the bed and peeling my sweatshirt off of me

“did the hot water soak through? shit.” matt says trying to stay calm.

“no-“ i sniff, rubbing my eyes. matt yanks his sweatshirt off his body and lays it across me like a blanket.

“stay right here okay? i’m gonna sort the kids out then put them to bed, then i’ll come back to talk, try get some sleep for me gorgeous.”

matt presses a kiss to my nose before rushing out of the room, leaving the door open behind him.

i have a clear view of kitchen from where i’m laying so i see matt walk into the kitchen before kneeling down

“c’mere.” he demands, sticking out his arms. millie and claire toddle over to him with a guilty expression across their face.

“tell me what’s happened.” matt says sternly, maintaining eye contact with both of them.

millie bursts into tears almost immediately as she looks at matt

matt runs his hand up and down her arm as he waits for a response

“we- we pushed mommy and she fell and spilt hot water on her and hurt her” she sniffs

“a-and.. and you’re mad at me” she continues.

“do i look mad sweetheart?” matt says softly, claire shrugs along with millie

“i’m really really sad that you weren’t behaving for mommy, and i know you know better than that right?” matt speaks

millie nods, wiping her nose with the backs of her hand

“and now i’m gonna ask you to go clean up the spill with claire and then we’re gonna go say sorry to mom okay?” he says gently, pressing two kisses to the girls forehead

they nod in unison before going into the kitchen, matt hands them the paper towels and they instantly drop down to there knees and attempt to clean the mess.

matt watches while biting his nails “why do you think you made mommy cry though?” he says, claire looks up at him with a heaped pile of paper towels in her hands

“because we were naughty.” claire sighs, matt nods while gathering the piles of drenched paper towels and throwing them away.

“what i’m ‘gonna ask you to do is sit down at the kitchen table and think about how you will say sorry to mommy tomorrow while i make you dinner okay girls?”

claire and millie run over to the dining table, more than hungry and tired now.

matt sorts through the pantry before settling on mac and cheese which i wasn’t even sure we had.

after a good 10 minutes matt brings over the two small bowls to the twins, who have been silent ever since they sat down.

“you have to eat all of this okay?” matt says while placing the bowls down. claire and millie nod

—-

8:56pm

matt finishes up the last dishes in the sink before walking over to the girls “you alright?” he asks softy before picking both of them up, one in each arm.

matt walks down the corridor, flashing me a quick smile as both the girls bury their head in his shoulders.

“they’re very tired” he mouths to me with a small laugh while walking into their shared bedroom.

i hear the door shut followed by matt walking into our bedroom. “you feeing better gorgeous?” he asks calmly as he flops down in bed beside me.

“thank you for doing that.” i sigh, rubbing my eyes with my palms.

“don’t thank me? i’m their dad and i realise that after yesterday’s.. argument that you’re right and i do need to start caring more.” matt looks over at me.

“you don’t have to just say that” i whisper

“i’m not just saying that, i actually mean it.” matt responds with an unreadable expression

“the shit you said last night..” i start, my voice wobbling “i’m gonna find it hard to forget, because i know that in that moment you meant it.”

matt goes silent,

“and i know that you’re busy but i try, so hard to make you and the girls happy, meaning that i don’t have free time to work because everything i do is for you?” i keep going, several tears now rolling down my cheeks

“so you saying that you should help our more around the house and pretending like everything’s perfect between us isn’t gonna fix shit.”

i physically can’t keep speaking unless i want to start sobbing so i stop, taking in a shaky breath.

matt doesn’t say anything back, instead sitting up and grabbing me and pulling me into a deathly tight hug.

the few tears that fell dampen the shoulder of his shirt as he rubs my back.

“i don’t even know how to apologise.” matt says, his voice trembling.

“please- don’t cry.” he whispers, “i’m just really tired” i squeeze out

“i know i’ve been a shit.. person for the past year or so and trust me, you and the girls are on my mind every single minute of every day and- and there’s no excuse for what i said yesterday except for the fact i wasn’t thinking straight.”

matt rambles

“i shouldn’t have yelled, or said anything. i know, i know you have it way harder than me, and i’m not just saying that it’s true.”

“you don’t have to forgive me at all today, tomorrow or in general for this but i love you and i’m so sorry.”

matt finishes by pulling away to look at my face, which he cups in both his hands.

“thank you.” is the only thing i reply with, somewhat shocked by that 2 minute long tangent.

matt lays back down on the matress, pulling me towards him. i lay my head down on his chest with a deep breath in, instantly falling asleep

————

9:56am the next day

the morning sun burns into the side of my face as i roll over in bed,

my eyebrows knit together when i realise matt’s not next to me like normal.

i sit up in bed, wiping my eyes as i attempt to run my fingers through my tangled hair.

i stumble out of bed towards the door of our bedroom, gripping the handle lazily and swinging it open.

the whole house is perfectly clean “what the fuck..” i mumble to myself as i walk into the living room where my eyes lay on my favourite sight

my 3 favourite people, matt claire and millie are sat on the sofa, matt’s in the middle and the girls are cuddled up to his side while matt holds open a picture book which he stops reading when i walk in.

“good morning pretty” matt smiles stupidly, i grow a small smile on my face.

“i think that someone has something to say to mom?” matt says, looking down at each of the girls.

they run up to me and wrap their arms around each of my legs “were really sorry” claire says, i bend down to their height and give them a smile

millie follows up with a “and i’m sorry for hurting you a- and i love you a lot!” she says with a cute smile.

“it’s okay sweetheart, i love you.” i grin, wrapping my arms around them before standing back up.

“and i’m gonna make it up to you tonight” matt says quietly while walking over to me

“matthew bernard! you horny mother fucker” i whisper.

————

@luanetaluenta @sturnsssbow @mattfangirl @luvr4miya @luvtay111 @lolasturniolo @freshloveforthefit @ruedowney @lovingchrissposts @333michelle @h3arts4harry @sonicmacks @jamiesturniolo @chrisstopherfilmed @itzdarling @sturniolo-simp4life @daddyslilchickenfingers2 @recklessmatt @ev3rgreenxtrees @lovergirl4387 @certifiednatelover @solarsturniolo @mattsenthusiast @yomamaslays4lyfe @peachmels @alinaa131 @pepsiluvr0209

[archangeldyke-all]

imagine Jinx survives and just pops up on readers's doorstep, and she's like, "...yay! I uhm..survived!" And sevika and reader are dumbfounded

ok lemme make up for that sad shit i wrote earlier today

also fuck it i'm gonna make it so isha's alive too don't ask me how

men and minors dni

nice as it is to live in a healing zaun, your new life comes with a few anxieties you never had to experience in the undercity.

the pressure of the entire city's infrastructure being overseen by just sevika is crushing. as much as the city is flourishing under her say-so, there are nights where you have hold her through her anxiety attacks.

there's the ever looming threat of an attempt on her life. she's made a lot of powerful rich enemies, and there have already been a few attempts.

and then there's just the grief. sometimes it paralyzes her, and you worry one day you won't be there to talk her out of the dark place she gets lost in.

so when you get home from the markets to the sounds of your wife sobbing in the living room, you picture the worst.

the eggs splatter to the kitchen floor as you drop your grocery bags to sprint through the house, dread coursing through your veins.

"sevika!? sevika, what's going on!?" you ask, horrified when you enter the living room. she's on her knees near the front door, her back shivering as she sobs. she's clutching something close to her chest and shuddering. "what is it!? sev, what's happening?!" you grab her shoulder and give her a tug, and your heart stops.

two matching heads of blue hair, one natural, one dyed, lift up from sevika's arms to look at you. "hey, sweetcheeks." jinx greets with a watery smile.

you collapse to your knees, sobbing and crawling forward to reach your family. "i-is this a dream?" you ask, grabbing isha's face in your hands. the girl smiles, in your grip and reaches up to grab your hands. sevika's arm wraps around your back.

"we... had to get away for a while. figure some things out. i'm sorry i didn't tell you-- i thought i'd have time to say goodbye during the war." jinx says. you reach one hand out to cup her face, desprately trying to soak up the sight of her.

her eyes are still pink, but the bags beneath them have lessened. her once shaved hair is now tickling her shoulders, and for the first time since you've known her, she's a little too big for the pants she's wearing.

and isha. isha's gold eyes shimmer just the same as they always have, and though she's taller and older, she's still got the same sweet, innocent smile she always had.

"this is real?" you ask, reaching out to tap sevika's arms.

"i don't know." she admits.

jinx chuckles. "always drama with these two, eh?" she asks. isha giggles and wipes up her snot with a nod.

missed you, ms. baby. she signs.

you pass out.

when you wake up, your heart sinks, and tears well up in your eyes.

a dream.

it was a fucking dream.

you should've known better. you wonder how many fucking years are gonna pass before you stop having these horrible, gut wrenching dreams.

"sweetcheeks? you awake? you hit your head pretty hard there-- can't have you dying right when we got reunited."

you gasp and snap up in bed, blinking owlishly at jinx. she chuckles and waves at you from her perch at the foot of the bed. something stirs beside you and you snap to your side, tears welling in your eyes when you find isha sleeping beside your pillow.

"it's real?" you ask. jinx giggles and nods, crawling forward slowly to wrap her arms around you. you sob in her arms and she laughs. "where the fuck is sevika?"

"would you believe me if i said she passed out too?" she asks. you pull away to gawk at her, and jinx sputters a laugh. "kidding! she's making up the guest room for us."

"not the fuckin' guest room anymore. you two are never leaving again, do you understand?" you ask, clutching jinx's face in your hands. she chuckles.

"alright."

"i'm not kidding jinx. you do that shit to me again, and i don't care if you're actually dead, i will raise you from the dead just to kick your fucking ass."

jinx cackles. "alright!"

"oh my god, i love you so fucking much." you sob, wrapping her back up in your arms. "i'll fucking kill you if you ever do that again i love you so much."

"alright, alright, janna, you're worse than sevika."

"she already gave you this talk?"

"when you were knocked out, yeah." she chuckles.

you huff and kiss her head. tears soaking her hair as you clutch her to your chest with one arm, the other reaching out to hold isha's ankle. "did you... sort all your shit out?" you ask.

jinx nods against you. "most of it. will you help me... stay on track?" she asks. you nod against her.

"there's nothing else i'd rather do in the world."

despite the fact that she's made up the guest room, none of you even attempt to pretend like the girls will be sleeping anywhere but in your arms tonight.

that's to say, the girls sleep. you and sevika stay wide awake, gawking down at them, memorizing their faces.

"they're really... here?" sevika whispers, tracing a finger down the bridge of isha's nose. the girl snorts in her sleep. you chuckle.

"yeah." you say, tears in your eyes. "they're here."

"i don't think i'm gonna ever stop crying." sevika says.

you giggle. "yeah, me neither."

"i love you so much." she whispers.

"janna, sevika. i love you too."

taglist!

@fyeahnix @lavendersgirl @half-of-a-gay @thesevi0lentdelights @sexysapphicshopowner

@kissyslut @chuucanchuucan @badbye666 @femme-historian @lia-winther

@sevikaspillowprincess @emiliabby @sevikasbeloved @hellorai @my-taintedheart

@glass-apothecary @macaroni676 @artinvain @k3n-dyll @sevsdollette

@ellieslob @xayn-xd @keikuahh @maneskinwh0re @raphaellearp

@iamastar @sevikitty @mascdom @nhaaauyen @annesunshiner

@mirconreadzztuff22 @veoomvroom @lushh-s3vik4s @katyawooga @lesbodietcoke

@lavandasz @strawberrykidneystone @sevikasfan @fict1onallyobsessed

[itneverendshere]

the thought of rafe taking care of his newborn. maybe mama went to shower and she comes out and she hears the baby just hard crying and she checks on them, and rafes covered in spit up and he’s trying to sponge bath her in the kitchen sink softly talking to her

mini version of myself livin' in me - r.c

pairing: pogue!reader x rafe (bartender!reader universe) warnings: none.

the warm spray of water and the scent of lavender swarmed around you like a hug as you stood under the pressure shower.

it had been one of those long days—your baby girl's cries louder than usual, her needs more demanding, and your sleep-deprived body feeling drained.

but the thought of rafe taking care of her while you finally took a moment for yourself brought a giddy smile to your face.

once you were done, you turned off the water, wrapped yourself in a fluffy towel, and stepped out, only to still be welcomed by the sound of your daughter’s cries across the house, louder and more urgent.

your heart thudded as you reached the source, feet still damp against the wooden floor.

the sight in the kitchen made you stop.

rafe stood by the sink, his broad back slightly hunched as he leaned over your baby girl.

his shirt was splattered with spit-up, damp spots spreading across his chest and sleeves, a wet dishtowel in hand, and completely focused on autumn.

your baby was in the sink, squirming and red-faced, he cradled her with one arm while using the other to gently sponge her down with a damp cloth.

his hair, usually perfectly messy, stuck to his forehead in damp strands, and there was a smear of baby lotion on his cheek.

autumn's tiny fists waved in the air, her cries coming in shuddering gasps, his thumb tracing delicate circles on her belly, his expression infinitely tender.

“shh, i know. almost done. i promise,” he planted a soft kiss on her forehead before continuing to gently wash her.

she let out another hiccuped wail and his voice continued as a low, soothing hum.

“hey, sweetheart, it’s okay,” he cooed, running the cloth over her chubby arms. “daddy’s here.”

her cries came in hiccups now, and you watched, heart swelling twice in size, as rafe chuckled to himself despite the chaos around him.

“you’re tough, just like your mama."

you leaned against the doorway, a warm smile spreading across your face. there he was, the man you fell in love with, completely wrapped up in his role as a father, covered in spit-up and unfazed.

he must have sensed your presence, because he turned, his blue eyes lighting up with relief when they met yours.

“hey,” he said, a little sheepishly. “didn’t hear you come in.”

“looks like you two had fun,” you mused, moving closer.

your gaze fell on the little face that looked back at you, blue eyes wide and tear-streaked. the hiccupped sobs had quieted, and her tiny fingers now curled and uncurled, reaching for something familiar.

“yeah,” rafe said with a lopsided smile, running a hand through his hair, leaving it even messier. “but we’re good, right, little lady?” he leaned down and rubbed his nose lightly against hers, eliciting a soft, surprised coo from autumn.

you rested your hand on his damp arm and he shifted slightly so you could see her better.

you stroked her chubby cheek, your fingers tracing the perfect features that were a blend of both of you.

“she’s calmer now,” you said, the tension in your body unwinding as you looked at your husband.

“only because you’re here,” he replied, turning his head to plant a quick, affectionate kiss on your temple. the way his smile crinkled the corners of his eyes made you fall in love all over again.

“you’re soaked,” you laughed, brushing your thumb over the damp splotch on his shoulder.

“hazards of the job,” he said, smirking. “but she’s worth it.”

suddenly, the tiniest sound broke—a quick, unmistakable baby fart.

there was a second of silence as rafe’s eyes widened comically, and you couldn’t help the laugh that bubbled up.

“did she just…” you started, your voice already filled with laughter.

rafe’s expression changed from disbelief to a look of exaggerated dread.

he shot you a pleading look, brows raised. “i don’t even wanna check. please, for the love of all that’s holy, tell me she didn’t shart on my hand again.”

you covered your mouth, failing to stop a giggle from spilling out, and took a step forward to peer at your daughter, who now seemed quite content, eyes wide and bright.

“oh, she definitely did,” you nodded.

he groaned, head tilting back as if appealing to the heavens.

“why me?” he asked, half-joking, half-resigned, though the corners of his mouth twitched with amusement.

“because you��re her dad,” you teased, pressing a kiss to his cheek. “and she already knows you’re wrapped around her little finger.”

rafe rolled his eyes, looking down at autumn, who gave a soft, innocent coo. “yeah, yeah. you’re lucky you’re cute.”

“she’s definitely yours,” you added, brushing your hand over her growing hair. “she farts just like you.”

his jaw dropped, eyes wide.

“excuse me?” he sputtered, hand on his chest as if you’d just hit him with the worst insult imaginable. “are you serious right now?”

you laughed, the sound coming out so naturally that even your baby seemed to sense the lightheartedness, letting out a warbling giggle of her own.

“i mean, the resemblance is uncanny,” you added, doubling down.

he leaned in closer. “for the record, my farts are silent,” he declared, trying to keep a straight face.

“...if you say so,” you drew out the words with mock skepticism.

rafe’s mouth fell open in playful indignation.

“hey! i barely fart in front of you!” he said, defensiveness in his voice as he pointed at you.

“sure, sweetheart,” you replied, giving him a patronizing pat on the arm. your grin widened when you saw his eyes narrow in faux irritation.

“no, really!” he protested, shaking his head and trying not to smile. “you make me sound like i’m just walking around the house, letting loose left and right.”

you leaned in, your voice low, “rafe, there was that one time on movie night—”

“oh, come on! that was once!” he said, throwing his hands up in exaggerated defeat.

his sudden movement made your daughter wiggle in his arms, and she let out a content gurgle as if agreeing with you.

“see? even she remembers,” you teased, raising an eyebrow at him.

“great. now i’m outnumbered in my own house,” he muttered, the corners of his mouth twitching up.

you pressed another kiss to his cheek, feeling the warmth of his skin.

“don’t worry, daddy. we still love you, gas and all.”

rafe was already halfway through a shit-eating grin when you rolled your eyes so deep into the back of your skull.

“grow up,” you scoffed, arching an eyebrow. “you don’t have to smirk every time i call you ‘daddy.’”

rafe chuckled, entirely unapologetic, “what? it’s not my fault you say it in that voice!”

“i hope she shits on you again.”

he let out a dramatic gasp, clutching his chest in feigned betrayal. "wow. cursing me with more spit-up and sharts? you’re cruel.”

autumn let out a loud noise, drawing your attention back to her. she gazed up at rafe with wide, adoring eyes, her tiny fingers wrapping around his thumb.

his voice softened as he looked down at her, completely captivated.

“guess i wouldn’t mind a few more spit-ups,” he confessed, a look of pure love in his eyes.

you smiled as you watched them. “lucky for you, i don’t think she’s done with those anytime soon.”

i cannot confirm or deny if this was also inspired by mads fart video on ig

[moonstruckme]

hello my sweet gorgeous mae!!

how we feeling abt a fic where reader has some difficulty regulating her emotions when she’s upset and just some casual poly!wolfstar dominance. girl honestly just needs a hug and someone to validate her feelings tbh

Hi lovely, thank you for requesting!! I did give her a reason for her upset which in retrospect I probably should have just left vague but I hope it doesn't take you out of it and if anyone knows anything that makes them think this relates to me in any way no it literally doesn't why would you think that

cw: somewhat subtle/implicit d/s dynamics (really just a couple joking mentions of "rules" or "bans")

poly!wolfstar x fem!reader ♡ 1k words

You’re grateful to come home to an empty apartment. No sooner does the door shut behind you than the sob that’s been building in your chest jostles its way out. You hug your bag to your front and go to the floor, crying. 

You don’t hold back. You let tears flow down your cheeks and take short, jagged breaths to fuel even more, curling your knees towards your chest and pushing your fingertips into your forehead. 

Your heartbeat is loud enough in your ears that it takes you a second to register the sound of footsteps on the stairs, but you notice when they pick up their pace as they draw closer. Not, evidently, so empty an apartment after all. 

“Dovey.” Remus sounds gutted. You open your eyes, and he looks it, too. Sirius comes up behind him, both of their forms blurring as they crouch in front of you. “What happened?” 

You shake your head. “I—I didn’t—” You’re crying like a child, all choked sobs and snivelly voice. “I didn’t—”

“Shh, that’s okay.” Sirius takes your face in his hands. His hold is firm but his thumbs gentle as they brush over your cheeks. “Just nod yes or no for me, my love. Are you hurt?” 

You shake your head. 

Some of the worry eases from his features, but his brows pinch sympathetically. “Just sad?” 

You open your mouth to answer him, and a hiccup of sobs spills out. 

Sirius makes a pained sound and pulls you to him. Remus murmurs, “Oh, sweetheart.” 

You try to speak again into the material of Sirius’ shirt, to apologize for coming home like this, but both boys shush you, Sirius rubbing your back while Remus gives your arm a squeeze and leans over to kiss your head. 

Remus takes your shoes off for you, and Sirius helps him ease your bag off your shoulder without ever really loosening his hold on you. They move you to the couch. Your boyfriends work in quiet harmony, one always comforting you while the other takes measures to make you more practically comfortable. 

“Dove, listen to me,” Remus says after a while. “You’re going to make yourself sick. Take a deep breath.” 

You try, inhaling only for it to come jerking back out of you on another sob. “I can’t.” 

“You can.” Sirius rubs your back. “Keep trying, baby.” 

They talk you through deep breaths for a while, until you start to calm and it’s only Sirius’ voice in your ear, low and reassuring while Remus goes to get something from the kitchen. 

He passes you a cold glass of water when he gets back, while Sirius is scraping damp pieces of hair back from your face. Presses it into your hands. 

You sniffle. “I’m not really thirsty.” 

“You’re going to be dehydrated after all that. You don’t have to drink it all at once,” he says, and the message is clear: but you do have to drink it. “Take your time if you need to.” 

You take a shaky breath, bringing the glass to your lips. 

“There you go.” Sirius kisses your cheek. You love and hate when they gang up on you like this. You’re between them on the couch, quite literally the center of attention. It’s both comforting and overwhelming. “Now, are you ready to say what’s wound you up so badly?” 

You swallow, nodding. “Sorry,” you say, and you still sound congested, “I didn’t think anyone was home.” 

Sirius tsks. “You know the s word is banned.” He somehow manages to strike a tone that’s both loving and stern. “You don’t get to start bending the rules because you’ve had a bad day.” 

“You shouldn’t feel like you can’t cry when we’re here, either, sweetheart,” Remus adds. 

“Probably wouldn’t have made such a spectacle of it, though.” You attempt a feeble smile. Neither boy looks amused. “It was only that I got my rejection from the Lunds job.” 

“Oh.” Remus' face creases with sympathy. He rubs your thigh. “You really wanted that one, yeah?” 

You shrug, but tears fill your eyes again against your will, dribbling down your cheeks. “I thought I had a good feeling about that one,” you whisper. Sirius starts stroking between your shoulder blades again. “It was stupid.” 

“I’m beginning to think we should ban every s word,” Sirius mutters. There’s no bite to it, though, and when you crack a smile he kisses underneath your ear. “It wasn’t stupid, baby. You were excited about it.” 

Remus’ voice is a low hum. “It’s not just about this one job, though, is it?” 

You look at him, tasting salt in the seam of your lips. 

“You’ve been anxious about all this for a long while,” he says, thumb moving over your knee in a slow, soothing back-and-forth. “I think you put all your stock into this one, and now it’s caught up to you, but this was never the only one that mattered. You can still find a job somewhere else.” 

“I just…” You draw in a breath, trying to steady yourself. “I thought I was so perfect for this one. If they didn’t want me” —your voice wavers— “how can I expect to ever get one?” 

“Angel, I love you, and you know I think you’re a genius ahead of your time,” says Sirius, “but that is some very shoddy reasoning. You’ve no idea who else applied. They might’ve had fucking superman in their stack of applications, and you could’ve been their second choice. That’s not going to happen every time.” 

“But it is still,” Remus tells you, taking your hand in his, “very hard to feel like you weren’t good enough. I’m sure all you’ve been putting in without getting results weighs on you, yeah?” 

You bite down hard on your lower lip to keep from bursting into tears again. Somehow Remus always knows how to get to the heart of the issue. 

“Yeah,” you say softly. 

“Oh, I know, sweet girl.” He pulls you into his side, kissing your head. “You’ve worked so hard. But it’ll all pay off in the end, alright? What’s say we have a break for tonight. No more applications, just relaxing.” 

“Yeah,” Sirius agrees for you. “After a good cry like that, I think a film and some cuddles are in order.” 

“These aren’t already cuddles?” you joke wetly. 

He makes an offended squawking noise. “Not proper ones. Get your cozies on and let Rem make us a hot cocoa, babydoll, and then we’ll remind you what real cuddles are like.”

[angelic--kitty]

*ringing the dinner bell* hi kitty I cooked, obligatory ask in your inbox to post it 🤭

party girls!mavuika and xilonen x inexperienced!reader

warnings: smut (minors/ageless blogs dni), wlw content, xilonen and mavuika are sorority party girls, reader is an inexperienced nerdy college girl, fingering, cunnilingus, exhibitionism, dom!characters x sub!reader

a/n: everybody say thank you @myfriendscallmebun for these yummy thoughts. love you, pook

Imagine being in a polycule with Mavuika and Xilonen- specifically being the cute nerdy inexperienced college girl that’s getting sandwiched between these two popular sorority party girls

Mavuika preferring to take you out clubbing for the night- pulling you to dance with her on the dance floor under near total darkness, save for the neon colored strobe lights occasionally illuminating the provocative way she has you pulled against her.

She’ll pull your back to her chest, hands roaming up and down your body in such a way that she’s practically groping you- and you don’t have much objection when she slips her hand under that miniskirt she picked out for you.

It’s so loud and claustrophobic in the club, you’re thankful that not even she would be able to hear your moans from the way she’s curling her fingers inside you so deliciously, although you’re amazed no one seems to notice, or if they do, that they don’t care.

Mavuika isn’t shy about letting others know that you’re her cute little girlfriend, and that no one else could ever have a chance with you- not with the way she’s making you cum on her hand like this.

Xilonen on the other hand, enjoys dragging you along to the frat parties and house parties she frequently DJ’s at. She prefers the less intense lighting, the free booze, and the shitty party snacks that get left out in the kitchen.

When she’s not at the turntables she’s usually got you pushed up against a couch so she can do bodyshots off of your stomach. Her favorite part about house parties is that it’s usually easy to grab your arm and drag you off to one of the bathrooms as soon as she gets turned on.

She’ll pick you up like you’re nothing and perch you on a bathroom counter so she has plenty of room to kneel down and lap at your cunt like it’s the first thing she’s drank all night. She takes her time dragging her tongue over your clit, her fingers massaging that gummy spot inside of you so slowly it’s almost torturous.

Even your climax with her is long and drawn-out; a stark contrast to the fast-paced thumping of the music you can still feel resounding through you.

And if you thought parties alone with them were bad enough, be prepared for when they take you out together; Mavuika pulling you against her at a frat party, your ass practically grinding on her hips while her fingers assault your cunt. Xilonen watching intently from her perch at the turntables, fiddling with the music so she can time the bass drop to the moment you cum all over Mavi’s hand.

They’ll trade places, Mavuika coming in to take over while Xilo takes a break between sets- tugging you along to a spare bedroom so she can start eating you out while you’re still shaky and sensitive.

Once a playlist gets set up, Mavuika is coming back in to ensure that by the time you leave, you’ll be a sobbing and shaking mess <3

Mavuika pulling you into her lap on the bed, hands shoved under your shirt and playing with your chest while Xilonen shoves her tongue in and out of your hole. Xilo leaving scratches all over your thighs while Mavi is leaving hickies on your neck.

They’ll pull a mirror in front of you so you can see how that mascara Mavuika helped you put on is running down your face as Xilonen draws another orgasm out of you with her mouth.

[animasola86]

LOST & FOUND 🫂 CH3

After Mommy has disciplined you with the cane, you feel the need to properly apologize to her, which was Daddy's idea, who promises you a reward if you do so.

soft!Daddy!dom x Mommy!domme x little girl!reader

WARNINGS: F!Reader insert. NSFW! Explicit sexual content. Mommy/Daddy kink. Dd/Md/lg dynamics. Pet names. Dom/sub undertones. Domestic discipline/caning. Cunnilingus. Tongue fucking. Cuntwarming? Vaginal fingering. Squirting. Subspace. Aftercare. Unprotected piv sex. Creampie. Cockwarming. (More notes under the cut!)

WORDS: 8.1k 🔷️ READ ON AO3 🔷️ 1 - 2 - 3 - 4 - 5

A/N: This chapter is a direct continuation of Chapter 1 and a summary of the dynamic you can expect from the rest of the story: a love triangle with F/F and F/M and F/F/M intimacies. I will note what you can expect in each chapter (indicated by the color of the header image and by the different colors in the warning tags), but just remember that our Reader is bisexual/bi-curious, so we'll have a multitude of different sex scenes here. ⚠️Also warning: it starts a little rough, sorry. Speaking of: before you hate on Mommy in this chapter, remember: 1) this is an established (fictional!) BDSM relationship with implied established boundaries and rules, 2) she is a Domme, 3) she is human and can have bad days too, 4) this is fiction, 5) please keep reading, it'll all get resolved! This is a HURT and comfort story after all!

Chapter 2 🔷️ Chapter 3 🔷️ Chapter 4

Several months later

You startle awake to loud voices. It takes you a long moment to realize where you are. In your bed, on your stomach. Mommy's voice in your ear, muffled, and suddenly you remember why your butt hurts so bad.

It's hazy, there were a lot of tears and pleading words, apologies and desperate cries, and it all started with a baking tray and flying cookies, the smell of burnt dough in the air, heat all around you, a stumble, a crash, herbs and soil raining to the ground.

It wouldn't even have been that bad if Mommy hadn't come into the kitchen at the exact moment you had lost your balance and dropped everything, your surprise for Daddy ruined as well as her precious herb garden. You knew Mommy cooked sometimes, but why she'd been so upset upon seeing the broken pot and plant, you had no idea.

But she was furious, screaming at you as you shrunk away. “I'm sorry, I'm sorry,” you cried, trying to clean up your mess, but all you did was make it worse. You even burned yourself on the hot sheet, destroyed the rest of the plant by stepping on it, and it was Mommy's flat hand on your cheek that brought you out of the headless panic and into a deep-rooted shock.

“Take a breath,” she ordered, staring at you. “And another. Okay? Good, then clean this up. Now.”

And you did, with shaking hands, but you somehow managed to scoop up burnt cookies, dirt and plant remnants, threw it all into the trash, then wiped the floor and washed the baking sheet. And Mommy watched, with her arms crossed over her chest, her eyes darker, her face a stoic angry mask. As soon as you were done, you looked at her, and couldn't help but shed a new batch of tears, and some more, until you were back into your hysterics, sobbing and apologizing.

“Go to your room,” she told you. “Wait for me.”

Through the tears, you nodded and shuffled away, barely making it up the stairs. You felt horrible, and her cold demeanor wasn't helping, it only made it worse. You knew that look of disappointment all too well, had seen it on your own mother many times. You were a failure, you knew it, you'd forgotten it for a while, distracted by Mommy and Daddy's care, but you remembered now.

You were a failure.

And you sat in your room and waited, crying soundlessly, your lips tingling, feeling numb and way too much all at the same time. She came to you ten minutes later, in her hand a thin wooden stick. You blinked, your breath hitching. You knew what it was, had seen it on her wall, had seen videos of it being used on others. And it scared you. A lot. She'd disciplined you before, but only with her hand, not with that thing.

“Mommy?” you whimpered, staring at her.

She only shook her head and pointed to the floor. “Take off your pants and underwear and kneel on the floor, head down, ass in the air. Come on, don't make me wait.” Her voice was harsh, and all you could do was follow her words.

But as you knelt there, waiting for your punishment, the panic came back full force. You were shaking so badly you could barely stay in your position. More of your own pathetic pleading and crying and whining noises filled your ears, your heart beating out of your chest, your throat tight, lungs burning. Mommy ignored you.

When the first blow hit your rear, you screamed and jolted away. “Stay where you are!” she said sternly. “And count with me, come on! One.”

“One...” you croaked out. The cane cut through the air again and met your soft flesh. “Two,” she said, and you repeated it barely able to speak. “You deserve this, don't you? It's for your own good. You need this. Embrace the pain, think about what happened,” she explained between hits, three, four, five, you were shuddering on the floor, sobbing helplessly into your folded arms as the pain crashed through you, every impact making you flinch badly.

Six, seven, eight, nine, ten. She eased her blows a little as she talked between them, her voice strangely calm despite the relentless flick of her wrist. “You ruined something that was very dear to Mommy. I know it was an accident, but you were clumsy and careless. You could have hurt yourself as well. We can't have that.”

Ten, eleven, twelve. The thirteenth blow was particularly hard again, seemingly cutting into your skin, making you jerk forward with a pained yelp. “And you fell into old habits. We did not spend all that time trying to make you better if it only takes one stupid mistake to bring you back to square one.”

Fourteen, fifteen. You were a gasping mess on the floor, knees shaking so badly you could barely keep your weight on them. Sixteen, seventeen. Your whole body was aflame, your mind spinning, words repeating, every new hit adding to the already existing pain, and it wouldn't stop. You tried your best to breathe through it, like Mommy had taught you, but the thin wooden stick hurt more than you could have imagined. Your lungs ached with every sharp inhale. Eighteen, nineteen.

For the last one, she suddenly grabbed your hair and pulled you to your feet before she pressed you face-first into the wall, holding you by your nape. “Think about what you did and what you can do better. If you can't breathe through your attacks, I will use pain as a distraction again. Maybe it'll help you more than whatever Daddy does to you...” She paused, then said: “Twenty.”

The hit came with a sudden whoosh, and you screamed, jolting forward against the wall, legs shaking, your skin burning, tight and bruised and hurting. “Tw-twenty...” you croaked out, holding your breath, eyes squeezed shut, tears streaming down your face.

As her words echoed in your head, you had to give it to her: you were indeed distracted. The stinging pain spreading just beneath the inflamed skin of your buttocks was thrumming through you in an unrelenting fashion, scorching pulses that burned through any other concerns or thoughts or doubts, emptying your mind. You couldn't even pick up on the slight poke at Daddy's seemingly useless methods of helping you through your anxiety attacks. Nothing mattered: just the cleansing sharpness of Mommy's cane.

“Good. You took it like a big girl,” she said behind you, her hand easing down your back, hovering above your warm skin. “Better than I expected. Doesn't look too bad either. Now take a cold shower, it'll feel better.”

With that she exited your room, leaving you trembling. At least you'd stopped sobbing now. For a long moment, all you could do was lean against the wall, trying to calm your erratic heart. Your throat was dry, cold sweat made you shiver. Your focus was still on the burning welts on your skin, horribly pulsing streaks all across your butt cheeks. You remember them vividly as you'd eventually inspected them in the mirror.

The cold shower was another torture, but afterwards you did indeed feel better, clean, cleared of your doubts, knowing that Mommy was right. You needed and deserved every single hit for making such a mess, for breaking down about it. As cruel and cold as she had been, you saw reason in her actions. She had to know what she was doing, of course she did, she was your Mommy, she only wanted the best for you.

In her own way...

Looking back though, you have to agree with Daddy. It has been too much. 'That sounds a bit excessive for a simple act of clumsiness,' he'd said. It has been, but of course you hadn't told him everything. Not as detailed as you'd liked. The anxiety attack, the uncontrollable sobbing, the hysterics. The inevitable tumble into the dark abyss, unable to come back out on your own. Mommy's cleansing slap and those cane hits... they had helped, brought you back, but...

But it still has been too much. And it has been different too. Usually when she disciplines you (she always tries to avoid saying punishment because you're not being punished for being anxious but disciplined for falling back into old patterns and allowing the anxiety to control you again), when she uses pain as a distraction, she cuddles you after, tells you what a good girl you've been, makes sure you're okay, but that time... she has just left. Something has definitely fueled Mommy's anger.

Shifting under the covers, trying not to put pressure on your butt (though whatever Daddy has put on your skin did help a little), you listen a bit closer to the voices from across the hall (you shouldn't, but it's hard to ignore them too). They're loud, as is usually the case when Mommy fights with Daddy. She is the fiery one, while he is the calmer counterpart, though he can be angry too, and loud. This morning, they are both equally agitated.

“She was being hysterical!” Mommy screeches.

“And you think twenty fucking cane hits will help with that? That's not how we should deal with her anxiety!” Daddy says, more or less calmly, but you can hear the emotion in his voice through the walls.

“She was calmer after...”

“Of course she was! Because she was in pain!” He is getting louder.

And she is getting quieter, which only means she's getting more emotional. “She can handle it...”

“You overdid it. It was too much. Don't let your frustrations out on her...”

“I did not let my – Ugh! I can't do this right now...”

There's a pause, then a door opens and shuts with a bang. It opens again. Now the voices are directly in the hallway in front of your door. Daddy's voice is quieter.

“What's the real matter here, babe?”

“Nothing...” Mommy sounds defeated.

“You don't just snap like that. Tell me.”

“I just had a bad day, it happens...” You hear footsteps pacing the wooden floorboards.

“Not like that. What happened?”

“Nothing, it's fine. I'll apologize to her, okay?”

“Good. But I'm not done with you...” His tone changes, even quieter, softer, a little challenge behind the words. A smirk.

Mommy gives a soft laugh, a bit flat but there's the same smirk in her voice. “Later, papito...”

When one pair of footsteps leaves along the hallway, your door is being opened quietly. You press into the covers, pretending to sleep. Your mattress dips, a hand comes to rest on your hip.

“Rise and shine, pumpkin,” Daddy whispers, leaning over you to brush his lips against your temple, the only part of you peeking out from under the blanket.

You turn slightly, blinking your eyes open, giving him a tired smile. “Morning, Daddy,” you mumble. He smiles back and gives you another peck, slowly working his way down your face until he meets your lips. He's braced over you, hovering inches away, and you sigh softly into his kiss.

After he comforted you last night (by letting you come on his thigh), he'd washed you and himself with a warm wet cloth, then tucked you into bed and left, promising to talk to Mommy. He didn't seem to have gotten behind her unusual burst of anger, but you trusted him to dig deeper. All in good time.

“How do you feel?” he asks quietly, carefully rolling onto his side, cradling you in his arms.

“Better,” you whisper. Your butt still hurts, is tense and tight and throbbing, but it'll be okay. You're sure.

“Wanna make breakfast with me? I'll supervise, you work?” he mutters, nuzzling your neck. You nod with a soft giggle. “I think Mommy would like a nice smoothie. Should be easy enough, right?”

He helps you out of bed, picks a soft yellow sundress for you to wear (decides on a white lace thong that sits comfortably between your bruised ass cheeks), then brushes your hair and puts it into a long braid that falls down your back. He tells you to brush your teeth, and you do, and when you're done, he takes your hand and leads you down to the kitchen.

There he raids the fridge for fresh fruit and vegetables and gives them to you to chop up before he helps you pour it all into the blender with some oat milk. It's fun to do this with Daddy, standing next to him as he lets you hit the button, as you watch how everything turns into a rather unappealing green slush. After filling the thick drink into a tall glass, he puts a metal straw into it and holds it, then nods for you to follow him back up the stairs to Mommy's room.

Your heart beats faster when you approach the door. He stops and hands you the drink. “You can do this, pumpkin,” he tells you and leans down to kiss your cheek. “It'll be fine. Anyone can have a bad day, so we shouldn't hold a grudge, right?” You nod, looking up at him with a timid smile.

Then he raises his hand and knocks on the door. You flinch at the noise, inhaling sharply. “Come in,” you hear Mommy's voice through the wood.

Daddy gives you a gentle nudge, whispering “See you later, kiddo.”, and then you open the door and slip into her room. She's sitting at the large vanity, watching the door through the mirror, a brush in her hand, her long black hair cascading down her back.

“Good morning, Mommy,” you whisper a little intimidated. “I... I brought you breakfast...”

She turns around on her chair, watching you, before she gives you a soft smile. “Oh honey, that's so sweet of you, come here,” she says and holds out her hand.

You walk towards her, placing your hand onto her palm. She pulls you against her, taking the smoothie from your other hand and putting it down on the vanity. “Listen, sweetheart, Mommy is –”

“I'm sorry, Mommy,” you say at the same time, biting your lip. She smiles at you, her eyes crinkling softly.

“I know you are, baby girl,” she says. “But I am too. I shouldn't have disciplined you like that, it was too much. Mommy just had a bad day. I'm sorry for taking it out on you,” she adds quietly, wrapping her arms around you as she buries her face in your neck, inhaling deeply.

You hug her back, still a little stiff, perched between her legs. “I didn't mean to disappoint you,” you murmur into her.

She shushes you. “It's alright. Water under the bridge, okay?”

A hum escapes you, and for a moment you just stand there, holding her as she holds you, her warmth seeping into your stiff limbs. Eventually you take a deep breath, her sweet perfume filling your nostrils, before you tilt your head a bit to look at her.

“Mommy, I... I want to make you feel good, uh, better,” you say in a breathy whisper. “If you have time for it...”

She chuckles softly. “I always have time for you, sweet girl. Might be best to take the day off anyway.” She pauses, then sighs. “Well, I can stay home, but I have to work through my emails. But that shouldn't be an obstacle, right, kitten?” she whispers, then slowly leans you back fully and smirks at you.

You feel your cheeks burning up, already sensing a little throb in your core at the prospect of making her feel good. Her hands grab your waist and push you away gently, allowing her to stand up. You realize she's wearing a black silk robe (and only that), open in the front, giving you a good glance at her perfect breasts and her smooth mound. You force yourself to look up into her face.

“Come with me to my office,” she tells you and grabs your hand, taking the smoothie with the other, and then guides you into the adjacent room.

You've been here a few times before, usually perched under her desk, so the rest of the interior doesn't really matter to you. It's a bright room though, large windows, floor to ceiling, letting in the already warm rays of the morning sun. There are bookshelves lining one wall, and a wild array of other stuff in front of another. You always wondered what it is that Mommy does, aside from being a successful business woman and establishment owner.

She definitely has a lot of hobbies. There are mannequins, a sewing machine, an easel and a bunch of canvases stacked behind it. A low table with painting supplies. A camera in another high shelf next to large books probably filled with photographs. And then there's the corner you don't like to look at often, where the cane hangs from a hook, next to a flogger, a whip, a paddle and other tools like gags and harnesses and belts. Sleek black leather accentuated with wooden elements.

Mommy sure is a woman of many talents. But none of that matters to you now as she motions you to crawl under her desk, a large space made of a long wooden tabletop sitting on two drawer shelves, it's open enough to allow whoever enters the room to have a good view beneath. It's where you spent your time before, whenever she works from home and asks you to keep her company.

It's been a strange request at first, but seeing her relax due to your presence and ministrations is always something you're looking forward to. As you crawl under the table top, she puts the smoothie down next to her laptop and sits down in her chair. Despite her chaotic corner of numerous activities, her desk is surprisingly bare. No clutter, just a lamp, some pencils and a notepad, her laptop and phone on it.

You settle right in front of her, and she doesn't waste a second before she spreads her legs, her robe falling open even more as she gently guides you between them. Her warmth and scent radiates off her when you get closer to her center. She shifts on her chair, getting comfortable but allowing you to reach her just fine. Her hand remains on your head as she tilts it so you can rest your cheek on her thigh.

Looking up at her, you see her smiling, her eyes warm and already darker than usual. “You really wanna make me feel good, baby?” she whispers, watching you closely. You nod eagerly as you shift on your knees, the heels of your sock-clad feet poking into your rear. The pain and tightness of the welts is still there, but you can ignore them for now as you focus on the woman in front of you.

She leans back, opening her legs further, her hands resting casually on the armrests of her leather chair. Her eyes stay on you as you approach her core, your hands reaching up to caress her inner thighs. You hold her gaze, your face already flushed from what lies ahead. Swallowing the excess saliva gathering on your tongue (your oral fixation flaring up), you lean in and up and press your lips to her flat stomach, slowly working your way lower.

She's calm, watching you closely, and eventually you break eye contact and close your eyes, focusing on kissing along her pelvis and down her smooth mound, going by feel and warmth alone. Your hands move around her waist as you settle between her legs, holding onto her as you bury your face in her sex. There's a slight shiver when your tongue teases along her slit, your lips brushing against hers, so soft and warm.

You pepper her labia with kisses, tilting your head slightly before you ease your tongue between them, dipping into her slick. Breathing into her, her scent filling your nostrils, you feel more little twitches, her thighs pressing slightly against your sides. You retrieve your arms and rub your palms against them, noticing the hint of goosebumps on her skin as you continue licking up and around her lower lips.

When you press your tongue against her hooded clit, she gives a soft little moan, enough encouragement to keep going, to dig deeper, to kiss and lick and nibble on her soft flesh until you feel her clit throbbing against your lips. You keep your focus on the sensitive bundle of nerves, flicking your tongue against it, closing your mouth around it, sucking it hard, and she grows more vocal, her hips jerking against your face.

She taught you early on how to properly satisfy a woman, not always on herself, teaching you about your own body as well. As awkward and embarrassing as it had been in the beginning, you are grateful to know what you know now, and you find pride in being able to get her off this easily. It only takes a few concentrated licks and nibbles, a bit of teeth grazing and a pointed tongue prod, and she is shaking in her seat, thrashing her head back as she claws at the armrests, loud moans echoing through the room.

Her first orgasm comes in waves, twitches of her thighs, her cunt pulsing against your chin as you keep sucking on her clit. You look up then, watching her come undone in front of you, under your ministrations. It sends deep shudders down your own body, settling low in your stomach, a throb to your own clit as you stimulate Mommy's.

You keep going, because she'd usually tell you when to stop, and it takes more than one orgasm for her to be fully satisfied. With your hands rubbing over her trembling legs, your mouth suctioned to her throbbing clit, you watch her, waiting for any indication, any hint of what she wants now. She's breathing harder when she meets your gaze, red spots on her cheeks, her bare chest rising and falling faster.

One of her hands moves down to your head, caressing your hair, playing with the braid. She doesn't say anything, just gives the tiniest of nudges, and you follow the hint and move from her clit down to her slit. She's a lot wetter now, and you lap up every drop you come across, savoring the sweet taste as you move your tongue between her labia, teasing at her entrance, the little flutter to her cunt not going by unnoticed.

You take long strokes from her hole to her sensitive bud, filling your mouth with her taste and essence, feeling her clit thrum and her cunt clench. Tilting your head down, closing your eyes, you press firmer against her, her labia enveloping your cheeks as you push the tip of your tongue against her entrance. She mewls softly, the hand in your hair tightening, as you start pushing your tongue in and out in quick succession, moving the muscle up and down, creating obscene squelching and slurping sounds that ring loudly in your ears, a motion she's taught you, shown you, done to you so many times.

You feel the drop of your own arousal in your underwear, your body tensing as you focus on the reactions of hers. With your tongue buried in her pulsing pussy, you use your nose to push against her clit in a steady rhythm, your whole face warm and wet by now as she clenches around you. Your hands curl around her legs, trying to hold them open, but she's twitching so hard you feel the tremors against the sides of your head as she tries to close her thighs around it.

It doesn't matter, you're in too deep, literally, only focused on her pleasure, her pleasure giving you pleasure, she could smother you right that instant and you wouldn't mind. Your head is blissfully empty, all you feel and taste and see and hear is her. She's getting louder, shifting on her chair, grinding her pelvis against your face as she fucks herself on your tongue, harder, faster, a desperate little dance you volunteered for.

And when she comes, she throws herself back into the chair, gasping breathlessly, her whole body spasming against you, thighs tight against your ears, taking another sense from you as you almost drown in her juices. Her cunt clenches hard around your working muscle, and you slowly pull your tongue out when she relaxes, lapping up what she gave you. You savor the little twitches, the uncontrollable jerks of her hips, the deep exhales from above you.

As you're still licking at her slit, she moves her hands to brush stray hairs out of her damp forehead. You look up at her, lips closed around her clit, when she smiles at you. “Well done, sweet girl, thank you,” she whispers, her voice hoarse and raspy, the low cadence sending shivers down your spine. “That's enough for now.”

You lean back almost reluctantly, licking your wet lips, blinking your clumped eyelashes apart. You feel her hand wiping at your face, her thumb pressing into your mouth. You give it a tentative suck, your eyes on her. She looks calm again, relaxed, serene.

“Mommy's gotta work now,” she tells you, pushing her thumb harder onto your tongue. “Do you wanna stay with me while I do?”

You don't even hesitate when you nod, your hands finding her wrist as you suck on her thumb, the motion pulling you deeper into the safe space you enjoy so much.

“Do you want a toy to play with?” she asks, your mind momentarily wandering to the lowest drawer of her desk, filled with vibrators and dildos and smaller items to entertain you (and her). It's a tempting thought, but you shake your head, hollowing your cheeks as you give her digit another deep suckle.

She chuckles softly. “But I do need my hand, sweet pea,” she says with a raised eyebrow and a wink.

You blink at her, your mind too empty to comprehend her words. She caresses your face, then slowly withdraws her thumb. You're at least alert enough to lick up the excess drool dripping from your now unoccupied lips. Swallowing hard, you look at her, but she already knows the empty gaze you shoot her and guides your head back between her legs.

“Keep me warm and wet, hmm, baby girl? Can you do that?” she says softly, and you nod, already pressing your lips against her throbbing clit. “But don't make me come. I gotta concentrate.”

“Okay, Mommy,” you mumble against her, leaning your cheek against her thigh as you inhale deeply, taking in her scent. She closes her legs a little around you, caging you in, holding you tightly, and you melt into her, eyes fluttering closed.

“Good girl,” she says, patting your head before she shifts on her chair one last time. Her praise almost drowns out the quiet noises of her fingers flying over the keyboard as she starts working.

You relax into her, sitting on your knees, the hurt on your butt forgotten, the drying wetness on your face ignored, the tingle between your own legs unimportant. Occasionally you give her labia a few kisses or a gentle suck, licking up along her seam, but as your mind grows silent, you slip more and more into what Mommy and Daddy call subspace, a state of mind where there are no worries, where you're not anxious, where nothing matters but the warmth of the person next to you.

It's a peaceful place where you lose all sense of time. Snuggling into Mommy's cunt or suckling on Daddy's cock, no matter where or how or when, it's your personal reward for making them feel good, for allowing yourself to let go, an escape you wished you'd known about sooner. But now you do, and it's enough. A beautiful, blissful void, and you're floating, weightless, soft breaths and a steady heartbeat, sunken into yourself.

How you come out of it is usually a blur. A gentle caress to your cheek, a little nudge, some sort of physical touch that grounds you back to the place you've initially drifted off in. A deep exhale against warm skin, your cheek pressed between wet flesh, your own thumb wet and numb between your tight lips. Your eyelids flutter when you feel another caress, nimble fingers digging into your hair, soft presses to your scalp, a soothing little hum you slowly recognize as Mommy's voice.

“Wake up, mi amor,” she whispers from above you, her accent an extra vibration through your skull.

You inhale deeply, smacking your lips, or trying to, slowly lowering your hand as you blink your eyes open. Mommy's cunt is right there, soft and sleek, and it's an instinct to raise your hand again and caress her puffy labia.

“No need, sweet cheeks,” she tells you, but you keep pushing your fingers up and down her mound, head resting against her thigh, watching the lazy movements of your digits.

Mommy sighs loudly, but doesn't do anything to stop you after all. So you continue, dip your fingertips into her slick, teasing at her clit, as she relaxes into her chair, her hand stroking the side of your head. You rub and caress, prod and poke, eventually pushing a finger into her entrance, feeling the tight clench of her walls. Her soft mewls sound in your ears, when a sudden knock disrupts the peace, making you blink and realize you're knuckles-deep in Mommy's cunt.

Mommy just issues a noise akin to a sigh or groan, and the door to her office opens. You remain focused on her, plunging your digit in and out, curling it slightly, rubbing the pad of your finger along her squishy flesh until you feel her twitching against you.

“Is she still at it?” Daddy's voice sounds from somewhere behind you.

“She just came back,” Mommy whispers, her voice just a deep breath. “You know how she gets after, the insatiable little thing...”

You don't really register what they're saying, doesn't matter, all you see and feel and smell is Mommy. You add another finger and continue your motions, pushing in slightly faster, slightly deeper, pressing harder against her sensitive spots. She shifts in her seat, her hips bucking against your hand, her breaths more labored.

Footsteps round the desk, and as you blink against your haze, you notice Daddy's head next to Mommy's. He winks at you before he presses his lips to her cheek. She turns her head and uses her free hand to grab his nape, keeping him bent over to capture his mouth for a deeper kiss. “So you like me again, hm?” Daddy hums against her, and instead of answering him, she just kisses him harder.

You watch them as you finger Mommy, her wetness rivaling your own as they continue to make out. You squirm on your knees, chewing on your swollen lip, your fingers moving in and out of Mommy's clenching hole, and fueled by their soft groans and moans, you dive in again and close your lips around that throbbing bundle of nerves in front of you.

Mommy gasps, jerking against your face, and you keep watching her from under your lashes. Daddy holds her face while propped onto one arm, resting on the table above you. The way their lips and tongues meet is a sensual dance you enjoy watching more and more (which wasn't always the case). Now it only arouses you more, seeing them so intimate.

With your mouth tight around Mommy's clit and your fingers deep in her spasming cunt, you shift on your knees until you can press the heel of your foot against your own throbbing core, the sudden sensation making you moan softly. You keep a steady rhythm, dipping your fingers in and out, sucking on her clit, rubbing yourself against your foot, feeling how your arousal drenches the fabric of your panties, creating a delicious friction that makes your empty head spin.

You come at the same time as Mommy, though while your orgasm rolls through you like a gentle wave, hers is a ravaging waterfall, cascading down with power, and as you keep pumping your fingers into her, her cunt convulses, spraying you with jerky jets of her essence as she moans loudly above you, barely contained by Daddy's mouth, and even though you were quite irritated the first time she's squirted right into your face, you barely flinch now, lowering your mouth to lick up everything you can catch.

She shudders on the chair, slowly relaxing, and it's Daddy who appears next to you as he pulls you away from her quivering core. Her chair rolls away, and he kneels beside you, wiping a cloth over your drenched face.

“Well done, pumpkin,” he says softly, smiling at you. You blink your eyes into focus, your lips trembling without Mommy's warmth against them. “I think Mommy feels a lot better now, don't you, babe?”

A soft groan sounds from behind him in response. “Oh yeah...” she sighs.

“You earned yourself a reward, baby girl,” Daddy whispers, as he helps you crawl out from under the desk.

When you stand, he has to hold you, because your legs feel numb and tingling, fallen asleep from sitting on them for so long. The aftershocks of your own orgasm definitely add to the little unsteadiness as well. His hands cup your warm face as he looks down at you. You still feel like floating, head too empty to fully focus on him or the change of position.

A slurping sound echoes in your ears, and when you look past him, you see Mommy closing her lips around the straw in her smoothie. She winks at you when you meet her hooded gaze. Slowly you come back to yourself, a soothing warmth flooding your limbs and core. Daddy pulls you to the side, and you notice him sitting down on the edge of the wide desk, his hands on your waist as he nudges you between his legs.

“You with me, pumpkin?” he says softly, tilting his head.

You look up at him, your hands resting on his strong thighs. “Yes, Daddy,” you whisper, giving him a timid smile.

“My good girl.”

He leans down and presses a kiss to your forehead, then to your cheek, before you tilt your chin up a bit more to meet his lips. As he moves his tongue against yours, slowly, sensually, you feel a presence behind you. Mommy's hands rub up and down your back, smoothing out your dress, before they disappear under the hem, and you gasp against Daddy's mouth when you feel her fingers hooking under the waistband of your panties.

She pulls them down slowly, crouching behind you, and you lift your feet automatically to step out of them. “Hmm, you enjoyed yourself already, didn't you, sweet girl?” she muses, leaning against you after she's straightened up again, her firm breasts pressing against your back.

Without breaking your kiss with Daddy, you move your eyes to see her dangling your drenched underwear on her finger. Heat crashes into your cheeks, slowly seeping down your body, and the arousal that's been draining into the bit of fabric of your thong, now drips out of you unrestrained. A garbled mewl escapes you as you rub your thighs together and squirm on the spot.

“Oh don't worry, darling, Daddy's gonna take care of the little itch, hmm, won't you, papito?”

Her voice is silky smooth in your ear, letting your eyelids flutter as your tongue wrestles softly with Daddy's. He watches you out of hooded eyes, his grip on you firm and strong, unrelenting. With Mommy still pressed against your back, sandwiched between them as you are, you feel her hands rubbing down your arms before she guides your hands between Daddy's legs, right to the not-so-subtle bulge in his pants.

He finally breaks the kiss, moves his lips along your cheek to your ear, his beard scratching along your soft skin, causing you to take a shuddering breath as you fill your lungs with air again. “Are you ready for me, pumpkin?” he breathes against the shell of your ear, his lips warm and wet, his breath even warmer. You shiver, and before you can answer, Mommy's hand slips around your front and down between your tight thighs, dipping right into your slick.

“Oh she's ready alright...”

“I've been asking her,” he says sternly, still nuzzling your neck, but clearly addressing Mommy, who sighs loudly and pulls her hand back.

You turn your head to look at him, biting your swollen lip, before you nod.

“Say it,” he whispers, meeting your eyes.

“I'm ready for you, Daddy,” you reply quietly. He raises an eyebrow.

You blush deeply, knowing what he wants to hear. Swallowing hard, you look down to where your hand is resting on his groin. “I'm... ready for your...” Another deep inhale, that flicker of shame rolling through your mind before you push it away again. “Your cock,” you whisper.

You look up at him, but he still watches you with a certain expectation, his eyes dark, his jaw set.

“I'm ready for your cock, Daddy,” you say again, still quiet, but it's finally enough for him. A smile breaks on his handsome face, and he leans in to kiss your cheek.

“Good girl,” he says softly. “Do you think I'm ready for you too?”

You give his bulge a little squeeze, feeling the hardness beneath the fabric. “Yes, I think so,” you whisper.

“Let's find out, hm?”

He gives you a wink, and you start unbuckling his belt, then fumble with the button and zipper of his pants. Mommy is there, leaning in from behind you, helping with the task. Daddy stands for a moment and lets his two women pull his pants and underwear down his long legs before he sits down on the edge of the desk again. Mommy leaves you as she gathers his clothes on the back of her chair.

You look up at his face instead of at his angrily bobbing cock, mesmerized by the hunger in his eyes. His hands tighten around your waist, and in the next moment he lifts you effortlessly, and you end up straddling his lap, knees on either side of his hips, legs spread (almost) impossibly wide over his thighs, your crotch pressed tightly against his. Your hands find his shoulders as you adjust on his lap.

“Dress off?” you hear Mommy's voice from behind you.

“Hmm, what do you think, baby girl? Do you want Daddy to see how you bounce on his cock? How your little cunt swallows every inch of him?”

You inhale sharply, deep shivers crashing through you as he talks like this. “Yes,” you breathe out, and as soon as you do, Mommy's hands are there to pull the sundress over your head. Without it, you are left completely naked because he's (deliberately) forgotten to put a bra on you this morning. A tingle goes through you.

You shift on his lap, fingers curling around his broad shoulders again. He watches you, his hands rubbing along your sides before he puts them large and warm and heavy on your waist, his long fingers almost teasing your spine while his thumbs rub over your fluttering stomach. Behind you, another set of hands eases along your thighs back to your rear, and when Mommy touches the welts on your ass cheeks, you feel her lips brushing against your shoulder.

“I'm sorry, mi amor,” she coos. “I thought it wouldn't look so bad. Does it still hurt?”

You meet Daddy's gaze before you turn your head and try to look at her out of the corner of your eye. “It's okay, Mommy, it's already feeling better.”

“My brave little girl,” she whispers, planting more kisses along your back while her hands fully cup your ass now, the pressure sending jolts of pain through you but you force them down, try to ignore them as you bite your lip and take a shuddering breath.

“Look at me, pumpkin,” Daddy orders, and you do, stiffening on his lap. “This is for you,” he starts, his hands holding onto your waist as Mommy lifts your hips until you hover just above Daddy's cock. “You take what you need from me, okay? You decide the pace. Me and Mommy will do anything to take care of you.”

You smile softly at him, bracing on your knees, your thighs trembling slightly, your hands digging into his shoulders. “Thank you, Daddy,” you whisper.

“Thank you, sweetheart, for being such a good little girl for us,” he replies, tilting his head as you squirm slightly on top of him, the tip of his cock brushing between your labia as you do so.

Before you can fully focus on indulging him (or letting him indulge you?), a last speck of doubt crashes into your mind. You blink at him, lips trembling, opening your mouth to protest, knowing you haven't been a good girl at all yesterday and have the marks to prove it, but he shakes his head, his dark eyes so intense any words dissipate right off your tongue. You close your mouth and swallow, nodding slightly.

And then you concentrate on him, looking down as one of your hands moves to close around his shaft as you guide him towards your entrance. It's taken you many months to get accustomed to his length and girth, a lot of training, a lot of tears, but by now you know that your body can handle him. Inhaling deeply, relaxing while also bracing yourself, you shift your hips (with Mommy's assistance) and lower yourself slowly, his tip pressing in, and with a sharp gasp you feel him slipping deeper.

They both guide you as you take it slow, steady up and down movements to ease him into you, small rolls of your hips, Mommy holding you from behind, Daddy's hands tight around your waist. He watches you, you can feel it as you focus on where his cock vanishes inside you. The strain and pressure is still a bit painful, especially since you let gravity do most of the work, but once he's settled deep in your core, filling you out completely, his tip pushing right against your cervix, you exhale a shaky breath and look up, seeing him smiling at you.

Mommy wraps her arms around your stomach, her warm cheek between your shoulder blades, allowing Daddy to cup your face and pull you closer. “Look at you,” he coos softly, leaning in to brush his nose against yours. “How wonderful you fit around Daddy's cock. You were made for this, pumpkin. Made for me. My perfect little girl.”

You close your eyes, breathing against the tightness building low in your belly, your hands moving back up to his shoulders before you wrap your arms around his neck and bury your face in the crook of it. You focus on the way he smells, how his large hands cradle your head against him, how Mommy clings to you, their warmth all-consuming. And the way his cock sits inside you, warm and hard and pulsing, how another kind of heat throbs through your straining ass cheeks.

And you realize it is all meant to be. You are meant to have relapses, you are meant to be anxious sometimes, you are meant to disappoint them, it's only human to do so. What matters in the end is that they still love you, still care about you, still treat you like their little girl. They'll continue to discipline you, push you further and further out of your comfort zone, and it will only make you stronger.

As you start moving on top of Daddy, leaning back, facing him, using his shoulders as leverage to bounce slowly up and down, you can't believe how lucky you are to have found these people (or for them to have found you). All they ever did was take care of you, in a way nobody has ever cared for you before.

Warmth spreads inside you with every slam against his hips, your walls pulsing around him, your breaths hitching, your heart beating faster. Mommy guides you, Daddy holds you, their soft words of praise and encouragement like lullabies in your ears, your own mewls and moans leaving your trembling lips in rapid little puffs of air.

Your thighs are shivering under the strain, but it's easier with Mommy's hands under your rear, pushing you up gently, while Daddy moves you down again, every bounce going deep, filling and all-consuming, and soon you find yourself floating, the friction, the steady pain/pleasure mixture, the warmth and strength of their grips, it all adds to the flickering lights, and when they suddenly all explode into a million smaller lights, you throw your head back, letting out a drawn-out moan, a deep shiver, stiffening for a second before your body starts shaking badly as your orgasm crashes through you.

You slump against Daddy's chest, arms around his neck, your hips jerking against him, and now it's up to him to keep going. His arms are tight around your back as he shifts on the edge of the desk, Mommy's hands move around your front, rubbing down your fluttering belly before you feel her fingertips drawing tight circles around your clit. You come again, with another croaked moan, spasming against Daddy as he starts thrusting up in a steady rhythm that accelerates quickly.

Sandwiched as you are, you can only take it, and you do, it's what you do after all, you are theirs to play with, and it gives you strength and pride, a safety you need to keep your mind empty and your thoughts clear of doubts. Whimpering softly as Daddy hammers his cock into your convulsing cunt while Mommy practically bullies your clit, you slip from pleasure into bliss and back, always floating, wave after wave of soothing sensations rolling through your trembling body.

Low grunts fill your ears, Daddy's deep voice vibrating through you as he suddenly stills, holding you tighter, throbbing deep inside you before he empties his balls into your quivering depths. You gasp into his neck, feeling every twitch of his cock, knowing he's painting your walls with thick ropes of his cum. You relax into him as he relaxes beneath you, his warm breaths playing with stray strands of your hair.

You rub his back as Mommy rubs yours. For a long moment you just sit on his cock until it stops throbbing and softens slightly, the only sounds your rapid pulse in your ears and your combined breaths, before it's Mommy, who brings you back to reality. “Thanks for the show, you two,” she says as she walks around you. “I think I need a cold shower now.” You feel her hand rubbing along your ass cheek before she gives it a soft slap.

You jerk against Daddy, who groans, unfolding his arms from around you to lean them onto the table beside him. He inhales deeply, and slowly you lean back too, looking at him, knowing you probably look as disheveled as you feel. He smirks at you, moving one hand to brush a few hairs out of your sweat-slick forehead.

It hasn't always been this easy to let go and look the part and not be ashamed about it, but you learned to ignore it and enjoy the moment instead, the aftermath, the soft caresses and soothing words and gentle smiles enough to distract you. You lean in and press a kiss to his bearded cheek, savoring the scratch against your lips and the little hum he issues at the touch. He cups your face, thumb under your chin, and guides your head to meet his mouth for a proper kiss.

“Are you okay, pumpkin?” he whispers against your lips, his hooded eyes boring into yours.

You nod, leaning into him, shifting on his lap. “Yes, Daddy, never better,” you breathe, moving in again, and he lets you, a smirk playing around his lips.

You haven't always been as confident with him (or Mommy) as you are now. It's been a long, winding road, over potholes and embarrassment, around bends and back in a loop towards old patterns, up steep hills and down rough slopes, through shame and discipline, hurt and comfort. A journey that started in darkness, before these two people showed you just how bright life could be.

Chapter 2 🔷️ Chapter 3 🔷️ Chapter 4

End notes: For now, this marks the end of the present-timeline, which was just a peek at what's possible within the confines of this story. Starting with the next chapter, we will continue the backstory arc, and Reader's journey into the world of BDSM and specifically Dd/Md/lg dynamics.

Thank you for reading! New chapter every Saturday!

Up next: After you agreed to be their little girl, you're starting your first day in your new life. Surprises await!

MASTERLIST 🔷️ AO3 🔷️ ORIGINAL WORKS

[homeofthelonelywriter]

Of Cupcakes and Skulls | Part 1

(A/N) Aaaaaahhhh, I loved the prompt by @lunamoonbby and I'm so glad they allowed me to write a whole fic about it. Will probably write a second part because this is just too cute!

Pairing: single dad! Mafia! Simon x baker! Reader

Warning: lots of fluff

Synopsis: Based on this post by @lunamoonbby

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7 | Part 8 | Part 9

A deep sigh escaped your lips when the door closed behind the last customer. It had been a long and tiring day, your legs had started hurting five hours ago, and all you wanted to do was finish closing the bakery and head home. But there was a lot to do before you could, so you put on some music and got started.

Quietly singing along, you disappeared into the kitchen, where you portioned the cupcake dough you had made earlier into the baking trays and slid them into the oven, setting a time on your phone before you started cleaning. As quickly as possible, you washed all the bowls, whiskers, and anything else that had gotten dirty that day, the thought of your bed ever present in your mind. Once you were done with that, you quickly vacuumed the floor and were about to wipe it, when a familiar sound stopped you.

The bell that hung above the door to the bakery rang out and you cursed at yourself. Had you really forgotten to lock the door after the last customer left? With another sigh, you walked into the salesroom, an annoyed ‘We’re closed’ almost leaving your lips before your eyes fell onto the little girl who had walked in. Her eyes were big and round, shining with unshed tears while her lips trembled.

“Oh dear, are you okay?”

You rushed to her side and knelt down in front of her, reaching out to gently grasp her shoulder.

“I…I l-lost da-daddy.”

She squeezed her eyes shut as the tears began to stream down her cheeks, her little shoulders shaking with every hiccup as she tried to suppress the sobs. Without thinking, you pulled her into a hug, her little fingers immediately curling into the fabric of the shirt you were wearing.

You stayed like that, hugging the little girl until she calmed down a bit, her body still shaking with hiccups. But you pulled away, gently swiping the tears away, as you gave her a reassuring smile.

“It’s going to be okay, we’ll find your daddy, yeah?”

She nodded, though she didn’t seem too confident. Convincing her would take some work.

“Okay, let’s start with your name, hm? Can you tell me that?”

“Mi-Millie.”

Your smile pulled into a grin, that you hoped looked proud.

“Great! Now, what’s your daddy called?”

Millie looked at you, confused.

“Daddy.”

You should’ve expected that answer. After all, she looked to be about four. What four-year-old knew their parent’s actual name?

“Oki dok. Do you know any way I can reach him? His phone number?”

She shook her head, a pout forming on her lips as she glanced at the floor. You hesitated for a second, but you didn’t know what else to do.

“Okay, let me just grab my coat and we’ll go to the police station nearby. I’m sure he would go there to look for you.”

But before you could rise to your feet, Millie reached out and stopped you, a panicked look on her face.

“No! We…We can’t go to the police. They don’t like daddy.”

Her statement confused you, but with the way she looked at you, you couldn’t force her to go either. While you were contemplating what to do, the timer on your phone went off and you got an idea to at least keep her busy until you came up with something. With a smirk, you looked at her.

“Do you like cupcakes?”

Millie looked confused but nodded. You rose to your feet and held out your hand, offering it to her.

“Want to decorate some while we wait for your daddy? You can even decorate one for him.”

A bright smile spread across her lips and you couldn’t help but fall in love with it. She nodded full of enthusiasm, her worries gone for at least the moment. So, after helping her out of her jacket and with her hand in yours, you led her to the kitchen and sat her down on the counter. You were just glad that the kitchen had a window front to the street. That way, if her father came along, he would be able to see her inside.

“Wait here for me, okay?”

She nodded and watched as you carefully pulled the hot trays out of the oven and placed them on a counter, far away from the little girl. You then checked the fridge, to see if there was any buttercream left, but there wasn’t. So you grabbed all the ingredients and walked back to Millie.

“Do you want to help me make some buttercream? We can even color it.”

Her eyes lit up and she nodded vigorously. After you put an oversized apron on her, you showed her a simple buttercream recipe, Millie snacking on it the whole time while you made it. Once it was done, you portioned it into different small bowls.

“What colors do you want?”

“Pink! And purple and blue and green and also yellow.”

You chuckled and nodded, pulling the needed food colors from a shelve. As you slowly placed them with the bowls, Millie reached up and tugged on your sleeve.

“Can we also make some black? Daddy really likes black.”

You again nodded and retrieved the last color. Together, you colored the buttercream, Millie whisking away at the pink one, while you quickly finished the other colors. Once you were both happy, you showed Millie how to put all the different colors she chose into the same pipe, so that it would be a colorful swirl when put onto a cupcake. She watched, her eyes wide and sparkling as if you were showing her how to create magic dust.

Once the cupcakes had cooled enough, you brought three over, one for each of you and one for her dad. While you carefully guided her hands, showing her how to use the pipe, you watched her as she poked her tongue out in concentration. A soft smile spread on your lips as adoration for the little kid overcame you.

Once all three cupcakes had buttercream on them, it was time for sprinkles. Millie of course wanted a lot of sparkles, hearts, and bows. While she was busy combing through the different sprinkle containers you had, you retrieved a large chocolate heart from the fridge. You used it to decorate cakes, but you thought Millie would love it. But for the moment, you decided to hide it, only wanting to reveal it when they were done.

“Did you find something you like?”

Millie nodded, while still looking through the containers.

“Do you have skulls?”

It took you a moment to realize that she was still talking about sprinkles. Once you overcame that initial shock, you nodded and retrieved another box, the one you kept the seasonal sprinkles in. You handed the little girl a container filled with small skulls, pumpkins, and spiders and she smiled.

“Daddy really likes skulls.”

You smiled as you stored that information. Black and skulls and not on good terms with the police. Sounds dangerous.

For the next few minutes, you decorated the cupcakes. For your own, you decided to go with your favorite sprinkles and a bit of glitter. Millie truly overdid her own and her father’s cupcake, but you couldn’t help but smile as you watched her concentrate, trying to find a free spot where one more skull sprinkle would fit.

Just as she found the spot and pressed the white form into the buttercream, the bell above the door rang out again and you could hear fast footsteps approaching. Both you and Millie turned to look toward the door and you couldn’t help but step in front of the little girl, shielding her body with yours. But then you heard it.

“Millie!”

A large man burst through the door, wild eyes finding yours before they jumped to the girl behind you.

“Daddy!”

With a relieved sigh, he fell to his knees, opening his arms as his little girl bolted toward him, almost stumbling over the apron on her way. She crashed into his chest, wrapping her short, little arms around his neck as best as she could. A soft smile tugged on your lips as you watched the duo. His brows were furrowed, but not in an angry way. No, he looked scared and desperate, but at the same time so very relieved.

Not picking up on her dad’s whirlwind of emotion, Millie immediately began talking, telling him all about the cupcakes. The man glanced up at you as his daughter pulled out of his hug and rushed back to the counter. As soon as your eyes met his, you felt a shiver run through you. You couldn’t explain it, but the way he looked at you felt…intimate.

“Daddy! Daddy! Look what we made.”

Millie quickly had his attention again, as the man joined her at the counter, his eyes landing on the cupcakes.

“We made them. There is one for me. And one for you. And one for her!”

He smiled - good god did he look stunning when he smiled - as he watched Millie point out all the details.

“Well done, munchkin. Why don’t you finish up so we can go home, hm?”

Millie nodded, not reacting when he pressed a gentle kiss to the crown of her head before he turned to you. Oozing confidence, he took a few steps toward you, only stopping once he was close enough that you could smell his cologne. Another shiver ran through you at the proximity, as you had to crane your neck to meet his eyes.

“I’m Simon. Thank you for…well, for taking care of her.”

You smiled, and for a moment Simon stopped breathing. The moment he spotted you through the window front he knew you were beautiful, but smiling up at him, you were just stunning, his fingers itching to reach out and feel you against him.

“It was a pleasure.”

Your eyes left his and landed on Millie as she poured more sprinkles onto her cupcake.

“She is amazing. Told me not to go to the police, because they don’t like you.”

You chuckled, expecting him to do the same, but he avoided your eyes as a light blush dusted his cheeks.

“She’s not wrong there. I-”

He was interrupted by Millie calling for him. And with an apologetic smile, he joined her at the counter. While the two were busy, you decided to quickly clean whatever you could, the rest you would do the next morning. Once you were done, you grabbed a box and the heart you had hidden, before walking up to the pair. Millie was showing Simon how you had put all the different colors into the piping bag, as he reacted with ‘ohs’ and ahs’ at exactly the right moments. You smiled as you watched, quickly catching Simon’s attention, as he glanced at you with a crooked grin.

“Millie?”

The little girl stopped and looked up at her dad, who gently motioned toward you. As soon as she saw the heart you were holding on a napkin, she started bouncing with excitement. Carefully, you handed it to her and watched as she stuck it into the buttercream on her cupcake, a big grin on her face.

After a few moments of her admiring it, you convinced her to let you box up the cupcakes, so she could leave with her father. While you did that, Simon carried his daughter to the sink, where he helped her wash her hands, before he dried them for her. With the box, you met them in the salesroom, where Simon was helping his daughter into her jacket. You knelt down and carefully handed the box to her.

“Don’t drop it, okay?”

She nodded and grinned, watching as you rose back to your feet. Simon was standing beside her, his wallet in his hands. Before he could say anything, you shook your head.

“No, it’s fine, really.”

“But-”

“I insist. It was a pleasure to spend time with your daughter.”

He smiled, and before you could protest, he shoved a few notes into the tip jar on the counter. You inhaled, ready to protest, but when you looked at him, you knew that it was futile, so you smiled, feeling your cheeks heat up.

“Thank you.”

The intensity of his gaze was too much, and you quickly found yourself glancing at the floor, jumping slightly as you felt his lips press to your temple.

“Thank you for taking care of her.”

He pulled back and you glanced up. Simon easily picked Millie up, before bidding you goodbye and walking out of your bakery. Millie waved at you the whole time until they were out of sight. A soft smile spread across your lips, as you turned towards the corner, curiously pulling out the tip Simon had left you. But when you counted the bills, you couldn’t believe it. You counted them three more times, before accepting the fact that he had left you $300.

But what caught your attention even more, was a black business card in the middle of the folded notes.

Simon Riley.

Simon.

Riley.

Riley.

Riley.

Riley!

A gasp left your mouth as you realized who you had just dealt with. Simon Riley, the local mafia boss, feared by everyone, hunted by the police. No wonder Millie didn’t want you to go to the police. As you continued to stare at the card, a shiver ran through you, wondering if you’d see the mafia boss again.

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Call of Duty - Masterlist

Master-Masterlist

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[moon7jay]

Forced To Take Him (PART 2)

🫴Read Part 1 here

Warnings : stepcest, mentions of the word rape, manipulation, non con, dub con, spit play? Ig that's all idk

Note : IT'S NON CONSENSUAL, consider it dead dove do not eat. and if u chose to read even after all the warnings, I'm not responsible.

"f-fuck take it like a good girl, take it all baby shit-" his voice cuts off in a whine when he feels you gag around his length, your throat feels raw and abused and you aren't sure if you'll be able to talk once this is over. He's so rough with his animalistic thrusts in your mouth, his palms planted firmly at the back of your head, fucking into your throat like it's a cunt. A wet, messy cunt for the purpose of getting fucked.

His eyes are on yours, his lust filled expression making bile rise in your throat. But at the same time there's a tingling in between your legs, your body working against you

"fuck u like this, u like this don't you, u little sexy slut" he pants, smiling down at you sinisterly, his tongue comes out to lick on his plump lower lip, his brows furrow as he once again gets lost in the pleasure of your throat

There's saliva leaking out of your mouth, drool mixed with his precum, you can taste it . Taste how messy all this is gonna get.

"fuck u, fuck u for making me like this ughmmmm- drive me crazy, wanna fuck all the time oh yeahmmmhm" he moans loudly. Fear strikes your heart, acutely aware that your sister is just a little distance away, watching TV on the couch and a single kitchen counter is what hides your body from her vision. If she were to look over, she would only see sunghoon and not how he's busy using your throat mercilessly.

But sunghoon doesn't care. Ever since the first day he raped you, he had only gotten braver, more worry free and fearless.

He started fucking you more frequently. almost anywhere he felt like he would pull your shorts down and bury is cock in your snatch in a single thrust, pounding like an animal.

He would come into your room at nights, whispering filthy promises in your ear while his hips snapped into your womb with the intention to breed.

He had also stopped giving your sister the sleeping pills, and you could feel it in your heart that he wasn't scared of your sister catching u anymore. and your fear became reality when during one night of brutal fucking, his fingers dug into your jiggling fleshy thighs and he groaned into your ears the words which made your insides turn cold.

"wanna tie your sister up right beside ur bed and make her watch how I rape you baby- his teeth dug into ur cheeks as u sobbed - wanna make her see what real fucking looks like. THIS. This is what fucking is all about. Tight fucking pussy god fuck"

A sharp thrust inside your throat made you come back to the present, he held your head in place, going deeper and lodging his dick further inside your fluttering throat. Your nose meshed up against his pubic hairs, his groans getting louder

"fuck yeah" he laughed, at the height of his insanity, snapping his hips again, making u choke on this thick length, gagging sounds like music to his ears

"look so pretty like this, gonna fuck u right on this kitchen floor baby, gonna make u scream so your sister knows exactly how u drool around my dick in ur pussy like a filthy little -Fuckughhh- little slut"

Your finger nails dug in his thighs, your oxygen supply getting cut off due to his rough movements but u could feel that he was close, his taste getting stronger on your tongue

"fuck fuck fuck squeeze my balls, make me fucking cum , wanna cum so much, fuck-yeahh" he thrust rapidly at an animalistic pace, his head thrown back in pleasure as you played with his balls just like he asked for. You had learned how to obey, having seen how bad things could get when he was angry.

"swallow-holy fuck-take it all you fucking whore, take my seed" he groaned from above you, snapping his hips deep into your throat and holding your head against his pubes, cumming inside your mouth, his taste flooding up your senses. you swallowed instantly, afraid of disappointing him, squeezing his balls more to drain him of every last drop of his fuck cream, making him curse

He pulled his dick out of your drooling mouth with a pop. Before you could catch a breath he was dropping down on his knees and burying his tongue in your mouth.

one thing your sister's boyfriend loved more than fucking u was tongue fucking your mouth. you don't know what his obsession was with your tongue but he loved sucking on it while he made u suck on his own tongue. Just plain messy, open mouthed kisses, making out with your tongue for hours.

His wet muscle tangled with yours, licking into your mouth with vigor, wanting to catch any after taste of his cum that u just swallowed. His hands grabbed you by ur thighs and the next thing you know he was dragging them from under your body so that your sitting form fell down on the kitchen floor, your head hitting a little hard at the wood but sunghoon didn't care. He never cared if you got hurt.

He was instantly pulling back, tearing your panties apart, pocketing the shredded fabric to jerk off with later and he was burying his cock inside, breaching your entrance in one harsh penetrative thrust. A gasp escaped your throat while he groaned in pleasure and satisfaction. Finally being wrapped in your wet pussy folds.

Your pussy was sore from how rough he had taken u in the morning and he was so big, you felt an excruciating pain at your entrance, tears rolling down your eyes involuntarily. He started snapping his hips into yours without waiting for you to adjust, gasping in pleasure, folding your body in half, grinding your sexes together

"does it hurt? fucking tell me that it hurts-fuck"

It did. but u didn't want to give him the satisfaction of getting off to your pain. You knew he was a sick bastard who got off when u were hurting. Your tears turned him on.

"so so fucking wet, sucking my dick in your tight little fuck hole, I bet u want that fuck cream inside you so bad huh baby?" he spat upon feeling your nails dig into his neck, your pussy was so wet, your body's natural reaction making you cry more. Maybe it was your fault, maybe u did want this. Maybe he was right.

"Feels so good baby, cunt milking me so fucking good yeahmmugh jesus fuck"

his thrusts became rapid, carnal lust taking over his body, going deeper, harder. You closed your eyes to avoid seeing how much pleasure he was getting from using your body like this. The cold kitchen floor digging into your back, making you more aware of what was happening to you. You were crying and screaming in full force now, unable to hide how much pain he was putting you through, but also unable to hide how much pleasure he was giving you. Your hips were chasing his own, your lower region getting hotter and hotter, you could feel your high approaching. Please God no, no, you can't cum on this monster's cock.

He laughed when he felt your pussy clench around his dick

"fuck yeah u want this, u wanna fuck with me, u wanna breed with me, come on, let's cum together yeah? let's fuck some more" He panted, his eyes shining in a sick want, you tried to look away but his hand held your face in place, fingers digging into ur cheeks, his gaze fucking into your soul, his pleasure filled expression making the knot in your belly snap, your eyes rolling back at the same time his eyes rolled back, your cum mixing with his pearly white seed flooding inside your womb, profanities and "fuck yeah" s falling from his mouth, his teeth digging into your cheek, hips fucking into u relentlessly, intensifying the squelching sounds your grinding sexses were making.

You tried pushing him away, his thrusts now making your insides hurt but he didn't stop, panting like an animal, wrapping your legs around his waist while he resumed his thrusts, his dick still hard inside of you. Hot and hard and so cruel.

His fingers dug into your waist, his tongue coming out to lick your neck, upto your chin to your nose, sliding sideways to dip inside your ear making you whine in overstimulation.

"t-too much" u gasped out, your nails scratching his back in hopes that he would slow down, the pain mixed with pleasure starting to get to your head.

"yeah? good, gonna fuck a baby into u baby, gonna fuck ur warm little cunt till u start bleeding" he whispered, intruding your mouth with his tongue, his hips getting harsher, his dick head hitting your cervix head on, even going past it at some point with how much it hurt.

You were starting to lose your vision, so lost in the overwhelming feelings to take note of how eerily quiet the house had become. How the skin slapping sounds and your groans and moans were all that could be heard now. You could not hear the TV anymore.

Your head lolled to the side and your eyes met your sister's. Relief washed over you. She was here to save u, she was finally gonna save you, u were gonna be free, you were-

"she isn't gonna stop me sweetheart, she's gonna watch us fuck like the pervert that she is, she's gonna watch me rape your tight little cunt" sunghoon whispered in your ear and something ugly reared it's head inside your chest. You were begging with your eyes. He was wrong, wasn't he? But why was she not stopping him? Why wasn't she saying something??

your eyes travelled down and a cold shiver ran down your spine.

Your sister's hand was buried inside her shorts while she watched how sunghoon fucked u. He was panting and groaning like a wounded animal, his spit flying everywhere as his thrusts became sloppier, your heart felt numb and so did your mind. You could not comprehend the scene that was playing out in front of you. your sister's excited eyes were fixated on your and sunghoon's grinding bodies, how u writhed under him, how he was shaking in pleasure. Her hand's movements inside her shorts getting faster in tune with sunghoon's thrusts

That look. You knew that look. You had seen that look countless times throughout your childhood but u were a naive little girl who didn't know any better.

You were 13 when your mom had married lana's dad. It had been a happy marriage, never once did u feel unaccepted or unwanted by your step sister, she always kept u close to her, always took u with her when she went to play, always shared her toys with you.

But there were more things she liked to share with u. like kisses.

You were innocent, never understanding the meaning behind her lingering touches and kisses. You both were just kids after all. And even though it felt uncomfortable at times, you didn't want to ruin ur relationship with your new sister. You wanted to be good. And siblings kissed all the time didn't they? it was just a way to express affection to each other

But as time went by, her affection towards u became unhinged. She was overprotective over u in an almost obsessive way.

U didn't notice it at that time, u never did. U never noticed how she would insist on sharing clothes and baths and how excited she would become when u let her borrow your lip balm. or how angry she became the first time u mentioned a crush.

How one day u came home crying to her because everyone in school was talking about how ur mother was a whore and u also carried some STDs, unaware of the fact that lana was the one who started those rumors, an effort to keep u isolated and dependent on her.

at your 17th birthday, your sister bought u a dress matching with hers and even tho u insisted that u didn't want to change in front of her, she made u eventually

"We're both girls y/n, I change in front of you all the time, why can't u?"

and so u did. Missing the way your sister's breath became heavy with each article of clothing that u took off.

At first she used to watch, just watch. until you both were well into adulthood. Turning 19, she eventually started touching.

"You're so beautiful y/n" she whispered while caressing your naked waist. You smiled awkwardly, putting ur top on instantly, feeling uneasy at the look lana was giving you. But u brushed it off, u shouldn't have.

u brushed off a lot of things, like when your sister took u to clubbing one night and as the crowd increased on the dance floor, you could feel her body press closer to yours, her hips subtly rubbing against u.

or how when u leaned closer to whisper in her ear that you were getting out to get some fresh air, your sister buried her nose into your hairs, inhaling your scent unbeknownst to ur naive self.

You had been your sister's deepest obsession ever since you walked into her life years ago. But u were too blind to see that.

"so close gonna cum so much for u, gonna fucking breed u full holy shit, you're gonna make me cum so hard baby " sunghoon's groans reached a fever pitch, the squelching sounds of your groins meeting filling up the kitchen, you couldn't take your eyes off of lana or how her eyes rolled back in pleasure when sunghoon moaned his impending orgasm

"yeah yeah fuck yeah feels so good, god fucking godughh " He panted, flooding your womb with his cum, your second orgasm washing over u as u watched your step sister bite her lower lip and cum all over her fingers. Sunghoon's cock helping u ride urs and his high, pleasurable sighs filling the space

your senses were overwhelmed, your eyes shutting on their own, feeling guilty with how much you came but at the same time, a sick pleasure ignited inside of you.

You felt a soft caress against your cheek and without opening your eyes you could tell that it was lana. you leaned into her touch, a deep yearning flooding your chest. sobs escaping your trembling lips as she cooed and kissed your tears away

"Shh baby I'm here, I love you, I love you so much y/n" she whispered and ur sobs got louder. You could hear sunghoon's laughter in the background, his body had left yours at some point.

"she's pretty when she cries isn't she? kiss her baby, wanna see u making out with the little slut" he spoke from somewhere.

You refused to open your eyes, not wanting to face your sister's want and the glaring reality that it was her all along.

It wasn't sunghoon who wanted u, it was her.

She wanted to break u through sunghoon and now she had. You didn't think u could leave even if you wanted to.

A tongue slithered inside your mouth and ur sister groaned upon tasting you. Tangling your tongues together, you felt her hand groping your chest, moaning into ur mouth at feeling your body

"u're mine, u have always been mine" you heard her whisper before u sinked into unconsciousness. your body shutting down and mind choosing to disassociate from the glaring reality.

you always knew your step sister loved u in a way that was different from how your friends' sisters loved them. you always knew that lana loved you too much.

loved u so much that it was lethal

[masonmontz]

notes: so, i know it's not a good day because of the news, but i still hope this cheers you up a little :(

REMEMBER: english is not my first language

dad!mason word count: 1,7k

✦‎۟    ࣭   ⊹

“Shit” Mason swore loudly and you heard a toy being thrown away. You laughed, he probably stepped on a toy that made even his soul hurt. “Annie, I won't say it again, come pick up all the toys you threw on the floor” you were startled when you heard Mason's loud voice to Annie, because he never spoke to you like that. 

You decided not to interfere, because Mason is also her father and he was scolding her for a reason.

“But dad, I'm playing with my toys, you can't ask me to put everything away” she snapped loudly. You were in the kitchen preparing dinner while Annie was in the living room playing and watching. 

Mason came home stressed from Carrington, but he never took it out on you, until today.

“I'm not asking, I'm ordering” he said to her and the house was silent for a few seconds. “Collect all these dolls and then we'll have dinner.”

“You are the worst daddy in the world, Julie's dad never asked her to put away her toys” she yelled at Mason in a tearful voice, and you dropped what you were doing to walk into the living room.

Wow.

You arrived in time to see your four-year-old girl running up the stairs and then you heard her bedroom door slam. Mason sighed, running his hands through his hair and face, realizing that he had overdone it and was now considered the worst daddy in the world.

“What’s wrong, Mase?” you asked, placing your hand on Mason's shoulder and he looked at you tiredly. 

“I had a bad training session today and I took it out on her, now she hates me.”

You laughed as you left a kiss on his cheek, knowing it wasn't true. Annie loves her daddy and nothing in the world would make her hate him, but she's figuring out her own emotions, and sometimes you forget she's just a kid.

“I'll talk to her, set the table for dinner, please.”

You went up the stairs and went to Annie's room, opening the door and just popping your head in before entering. She was lying in the middle of the pink blankets and you could see her shoulders moving from the sobs of her crying.

Understandable, after all Mason never yelled at her.

“Hey, honey” you sat on her bed, pulling Annie onto your lap. “What’s wrong, baby?”

“Daddy yelled at me” she sobbed and held onto your coat, putting her face in the fabric and crying even more, feeling safe to cry in your arms. 

“Oh my love, daddy didn't mean to yell at you, he had a stressful day.” 

“But I just wanted to play with my toys” she cried louder, grabbing your neck with her little arms. 

“I know honey, daddy will apologize, okay?” you left a kiss on her cheeks and wiped away some tears. “But you can't yell at him, he's your father.”

“I don't want to talk to him right now.”

“No? Don't you want to come down for dinner?”

“No, I'll stay here.”

You sighed, Annie is upset with Mason and he's going to be upset with himself when he finds out she doesn't want to have dinner because he yelled at her. 

“I'll bring you dinner, okay? Do you want me to turn on the TV?”

“Yes, please.”

You left Annie lying down while you went downstairs, and Mason was in the kitchen putting food on the table and raised his eyebrows when he didn't see Annie with you. 

“Where is Annie?” he asked as he put some of the noodles on her plate. You could see on Mason's face how much he was blaming himself for yelling at his little girl. 

“She doesn't want to come down for dinner, I'll take the food to her.”

“What? She doesn't want dinner because I'm here?”

“You can't blame her, can you?” you grabbed the plate for her as you watched Mason sit down and cover his face with his hands.

“Shit, I'm a terrible dad.”

“You know that's not true, Mason. You're a great father and you know that, she's just a little upset, I think you should apologize.”

“Yes, I'll bring her dinner. Will you wait for me to eat?” 

✦‎۟    ࣭   ⊹

Mason slowly opened the bedroom door, and Annie was sitting on the bed watching the cartoon with a few tears streaming down her face. Mason felt terrible, he never wanted to hurt his baby on purpose.

He carried with him a plate of mashed potatoes and chicken, a glass of juice, and a chocolate bar to please Annie. Annie didn't even look at Mason when she heard him enter the room, and it broke his heart into several pieces. 

“Hey love, daddy brought your dinner” Mason put everything on the table next to the bed and sat down next to Annie, and not even the smell of the food made her look at him. Mason saw her eyes full of tears, and he himself wanted to cry for yelling at her. 

“I don't want to eat.”

“No?” Mason pouted, laying down next to Annie on the bed, but she continued to ignore him. “Annie, could you forgive Daddy for yelling at you? I was stressed and yelled at you, but that's really bad. Do you remember that mom and I taught you not to yell at people?”

“Yes.”

“I didn't mean to yell at you, could you forgive me?”

Annie didn't respond.

She just got out of bed, walked to the pink table in her room and started eating alone, still extremely disappointed by Mason's screams, after all she had never heard Mason raise his voice like that.

Mason's heart sank, and he just shook his head to himself when he realized that he still hadn't been forgiven.

And even though she didn't want Mason's help to eat, he stayed by her side until she finished dinner, and when she had eaten all the food on her plate, she walked over to the small pile of books in the corner of the room, picked up the colored pencils and began to color, without saying anything to Mason who was watching her.

Mason picked up the dishes and went downstairs sadly, which didn't go unnoticed by you, who was in the living room waiting for him to have dinner. 

“Did she eat it all?”

“Yes. Alone.”

Mason's voice was low, and from his face you could tell things hadn't gone well between him and Annie. You walked into the kitchen behind him, and it looked like Mason's world had ended, his shoulders hunched, his head down, and his eyes sad.

You walked over to him and hugged him from behind as he put the dishes in the kitchen sink. Mason sighed when he felt your arms around him and held your hands, you rested your face on his back, leaving a few light kisses and Mason leaned his head back, closing his eyes.

“I feel like shit. I didn't mean to yell at her, I don't know what happened, and she's so disappointed in me that she ate alone and didn't want my help.”

“You don't have to blame yourself so much, Mason, it happened. If you feel like this now that she's four, imagine when she's eighteen and runs away to her boyfriend's house?”

“Don't tell me that” he grumbled and you smiled against his back, and you rubbed your palm on his chest, trying to somehow comfort him. “I don't know what to do to make her forgive me.”

“She is not able to resist you, give her some more time, soon she will forget” Mason nodded and you let go of him, he turned around and you left a light kiss on his lips, drawing a small sad smile.

✦‎۟    ࣭   ⊹

Annie didn't forgive Mason, he's the one who puts her to sleep almost every day, and Mason didn't hide his sadness when she asked for you at bedtime. Mason sadly took a shower, lay down on the bed and waited for you.

“She still doesn't want to talk to me?” he asked as soon as he saw you.

“I told her you were going to take her to Carrington with you and she said she doesn't want to go.”

“But she loves going there with me.”

Mason didn't know what to do to make Annie forgive him, and he thought of all the toys he could buy to make her forgive him, but he knew you would argue with him if he showered her with unnecessary toys.

Mason went to sleep planning on the sweets he would buy for her the next day, because no one can resist any sweet, and he slept among his own thoughts while you stroked his hair, still trying to comfort him. 

Mason woke up hearing a cry in the middle of the night, getting up scared when he heard Annie's cry. You didn't even move while you slept, in the last few nights you had suffered from insomnia and it was the first night you slept soundly.

He ran to Annie's room and found her sitting on the bed crying heavily, and Mason didn't think twice before taking her in his arms to calm her down.

“What’s wrong, baby?” 

Annie clung to his neck, tears fell on Mason's skin and he didn't let go of her as he left a few kisses on her strawberry-scented hair.

“Nightmare, there was a witch chasing me.”

“It was just a bad dream, love, you're safe with daddy, okay?” Annie nodded, relaxing completely into Mason's strong arms. “Do you want to sleep with mummy and daddy?”

“Yeah” Annie sniffed, Mason picked up the teddy bear that always slept with her and walked slowly towards the bedroom. You hadn't even moved, Mason was relieved because Annie had forgotten about their argument, and she was hugging him so tightly because she was still scared of the witch.

“You're safe, okay? There's no witch here” Mason whispered and Annie nodded, he placed her in the middle of the bed and lay down, feeling his daughter snuggle into him like she usually does when she sleeps with the two of you.

“You were going to protect me, weren't you, daddy?”

“Always, love.”

“I love you five hundred, dad” she whispered to not wake you, smiling at Mason and closing her eyes to sleep.

“Wow, that’s too much” Mason whispered back, kissing her forehead as he tried to hug the two of you. “I love you six hundred.”

[elliespassagerprincess]

house wife reader x mean ellie 👀 ellie works long hours on the weekdays and takes out all of her anger on her docile wife who cooks all her meals, does all of her laundry, cleans the entire house, and make sure ellie’s satisfied 24/7.

Satisfied - (ellie williams x housewife reader)

hi anon! mean ellie? hell yeah. I hope you don't mind, but I added my own twist. I hope you enjoy &lt;3

Pairing: mean ellie x housewife fem!reader

requests are open, feel free to leave one!

HUGE warnings: toxic relationships, murder, gore, violence

Summary: in which you were the perfect housewife

authors note: I'm literally trying to empty out my request inbox, so be ready because there's a bunch of fics coming your way!

"so when last have you seen her?" The police officer asked as he sat across you.

"well she went out yesterday and she never came back"

you saw him look at you and Ellie's house as he was taking notes.

"Any arguments?"

"No"

once again you saw the pen write something on some paper. You wanted to know what exactly he was writing about.

What was talking him so long? You wanted him to fucking leave.

"Thank you for answering these questions, we'll call if we need anything else" the officer said as he stood up.

"Thank you for your hard work! Do I need to walk you out?" You asked with smile

"no, I'll show myself out" was all he said as he walked towards the front door.

As soon as he was out of sight you got up and ran to window to check if he was gone. You watched his car pull out the driveway, and you let out a sigh of relief.

fucking finally.

You ran to you and Ellie's shared room, and between heavy breathes you said "she almost caught us baby".

You walked towards the bed, where Ellie's decomposing body lay. Flies circled her body, her skin was pale and cold to the touch.

You put some of her hair behind her ear "it's ok now, they'll never catch us" you whispered

You loved Ellie. And you would anything for you. Anything including quitting your job and becoming her housewife.

In the beginning you hated it, staying home, cooking, cleaning. But when Ellie praised you, you fucking loved it.

And soon after you became the stereotypical housewife. Cute outfits, aprons that matched whatever you wore. You always woke up before her, to prepare her favorite breakfast. You cooked her dinner.

You fucking did everything.

The two of you were happy. Until Ellie got a promotion. She got more work, the pressure was getting worse for the poor girl.

Ellie came home late and most nights she barley even slept. You tried supporting your wife as best you could. You tried cleaning the house before she came come. You did all her laundry, you even chose her outfits most days.

But it was never enough for her.

One night you cooked Ellie's favorite meal. A prideful smile was on your lips as you put the plate in front of her.

This would cheer her up. You knew it would.

Ellie glanced down at the plate, and she looked back at you. The dark circles under her eyes looked even darker than they did yesterday.

"You are so fucking pathetic" she started.

"I work all fucking day to come to this shit? And look, this table is dusty" she added.

Ellie got up from where she was sitting and she threw the plate filled with food onto the floor. "You have cleaning to do, and don't fucking serve this shit again" she walked out of the dining room and you sat there mouth agape.

This was the first time she's ever said anything like that to you. You sobbed in the kitchen that night. You felt sick to your stomach.

Everything you did was for Ellie and for the first time she wasn't satisfied with you.

Your main mission in life became to serve. To serve her. But what do you do when the one you did everything for, wasn't satisfied?

The next morning you woke up bright and early, and you cooked Ellie a widespread of breakfast. Fruit salad, bacon, eggs pancakes and so much more decorated the table.

You heard the bedroom door open and you saw her walk out, she glanced at the table

"I'm not hungry" was all she said and she walked out the front door.

You were shattered.

Since that day everything you did was wrong.

You couldn't clean right.

Her fingers ran along the cupboard, and she looked at you with a frown.

"Can you not clean right? Should i get a maid? Because you cant do shit"

you couldn't do the laundry right.

you stood in the doorway watching Ellie fit on her suit. She looked herself in the mirror before she made eye contact with you.

"It's still wrinkled and there's a stain" she pointed out.

"fix it" was all she said before she threw the clothes on the floor.

You couldn't even cook right.

Ellie only had one spoon of her food before she pushed her plate to the side

"what's wrong?" you asked

"this is disgusting"

it hurts. Every insult Ellie hurled at you hurt.

You knew she was stressed but it didn't give her the right to take her stress out on you.

One night you tried talking to Ellie. But she didn't want to. She didn't have energy for this.

"Don't you have a house to clean? Oh wait you can't even do that right" she said through a chuckle.

You snapped.

You let out a scream as you grabbed the lamp on your side of the bed. You jumped onto the bed, and you shit her over and over again.

"I"

*hit

"am"

*hit

"the perfect"

*hit

"housewife" you yelled.

Blood littered the walls, and your hands. Heavy breathes left your mouth as you looked at the scene.

"Oh Ellie I'm sorry! This room is filthy! I'll clean it"

you scrubbed the walls, you changed the bedding and you gave her a bath.

Everything was back to normal. It was all clean.

You looked at her decomposing body. She looked peaceful and she wasn't being mean anymore.

This was the girl you fell in love with.

You gave her a kiss on the forehead before you muttered "its time for breakfast" and you left the room to start making your girl breakfast.

You weren't sure how long you were going to get away with this, but for the time being you were happy.

She was better dead anyway.

[archangeldyke-all]

ok hear me out angel, what about reader asking sevika about Isha’s family? Like wondering if they shouldn’t find her family or anything.

Maybe Sevika could open up about her own past with her abusive father and confess that she relates to Isha because she was probably either an orphan or running away from a toxic environment?

idk if you share my vision but I loveee when Sevika is vulnerable.

🖤

god :,) i love this

men and minors dni

as a family, you've all been learning sign language to better communicate with isha.

the girl is young and restless, and she gets frustrated easily when her hands can't keep up with her thoughts. she would rather just use jinx's surprisingly good interpretation of her facial expressions to communicate.

so, none of you are experts yet, but isha is able to tell you all a little bit more about herself the more she learns.

she doesn't know how old she is, but in the mines she was grouped with kids aged 4-6. so she's close to there.

she doesn't have any parents, and she doesn't remember ever having parents.

and when she met jinx, she had made an escape from the mine camps she was raised in, being chased by goons wanting to bring her back. tiny hands are useful in mines. and isha was a for-lifer.

isha explains this all to you slowly, over time, mostly with jinx's encouragement. and living in the undercity, stories like isha's aren't as rare as they should be. so you're all a little numb to the true horror of isha's life before jinx.

it hits you all at different times.

jinx is the first person to shed tears for isha. you wake up in the middle of the night to horrified screams coming from the girls' room, and both you and sevika sprint in, fearing the worst.

it's just isha having a nightmare, but it's still heartwrenching to watch as she sobs and shakes and screams out in her sleep. jinx is the only one who could wake her up, her voice seeming to break through the horrors for poor isha. the girl snaps awake with a gasp, launching into jinx's arms with a relieved cry.

"w-what happened, kiddo?" jinx whispers, her voice shaky.

isha quickly, shakily signs something only jinx can see, and she bursts into tears, wrapping isha up in a hug.

"what was it? what'd she say?" sevika asks.

jinx shakes her head. "'canary went quiet.'" she says, shakily. "she dreamt about the mines suffocating her."

you shiver, and sevika sighs heavily. both of you crawl onto the floor, preparing for a long night of soothing the kids to sleep.

the next person who cries about it is you.

you stumble to the kitchen in the middle of the night in search of a glass of water and catch isha in the fridge, stuffing her face with leftovers from dinner.

"you wan' me to warm that up for you, kiddo?" you ask around a yawn.

isha jumps and stumbles to her feet, her eyes wide and fearful, the food splattering to the floor. sorry, sorry, sorry, sorry-- she signs over and over.

you blink. "no-- what? don't worry about it baby, 's just some spilled rice--"

isha bursts into tears and starts tugging at her hair, worry consuming her, you gasp, darting forward and pulling her in for a hug. she flinches just a bit before she realizes you aren't going to hurt her, and your heart shatters.

"isha, baby, you can eat as much food as you want, whenever you want." you whisper into her blue hair. isha moans against you. "that's a rule here. you'll never be in trouble for taking food. even if it's jinx's 'secret' cookies." isha giggles a little at this, and you start to cry, burying your face against her scruffy head of freshly dyed blue hair.

you both cry until isha's stomach grumbles, and then you burst into giggles.

"c'mon. i'll make you your favorite if you help me." you say, standing from the floor and flicking a light on. isha gasps.

blueberry pancakes? she signs with a grin. when you nod, isha darts forward and hugs your legs. thank you ms. baby. she signs. it makes you start to cry again.

sevika's the last one to crack, but that doesn't surprise you.

what does surprise you is how open she is about it.

isha asks about family one evening over dinner. it's got you all a little emotional, the sweet questions she signs.

is this family? she asks first.

a few forks clatter onto plates, and it's silent. isha's inquisitive gold eyes dart around the table, waiting for one of you to speak. sevika looks at you you look at isha.

jinx speaks. "close enough, yeah." she says.

you grin, and bite your lip. sevika sighs.

is there more? isha asks.

all your smiles immediately fall as the solemn topic of more family, alive and dead, is brought up.

jinx sighs. "you know vi, my sister, the asshole cop." she mutters. isha giggles at the curse. "i... had parents. don't remember much of 'em. mostly, i remember the stories vi would tell me about 'em. felicia and connel. they died when i was young. then i had a few brothers and vander... and they died too..."

isha pouts and darts forward to hug away jinx's far away look.

sevika takes over while jinx starts stroking isha's hair.

"then she had silco. and me, i guess." she says with a shrug. jinx smiles a little.

"do you have any family in zaun, sev?" jinx asks.

you reach out and grab sevika's hand, and she kisses your knuckles before speaking slowly.

"i had a dad. we had a... shaky relationship." she says simply. jinx understands this, and she hums with a nods. isha's blinking at sevika with big eyes, listening intently. "he died hating me, i mean we were always feuding. but then sometimes, we weren't feuding, and..." she shakes her head and huffs. "and after that i kinda thought family was somethin' i just wasn't any good at." a few tears fall down her cheeks, and she looks up at the girls across the table.

but look at you, now, big mama. isha signs with a happy smile.

jinx bursts into laughter at the use of the nickname, and sevika bursts into tears.

you giggle and coo, pulling sevika into your arms to let her cry in your shoulder. "'s okay, big mama." you tease.

"s-shut up!" sevika cries. isha giggles, and sevika lifts her face to smile at the girl, tears streaming down her cheeks. "look at me now, kid. exactly."

taglist!

@fyeahnix @lavendersgirl @half-of-a-gay @thesevi0lentdelights @sexysapphicshopowner

@kissyslut @chuucanchuucan @badbye666 @femme-historian @lia-winther

@sevikaspillowprincess @emiliabby @sevikasbeloved @hellorai @my-taintedheart

@glass-apothecary @macaroni676 @artinvain @k3n-dyll @sevsdollette

@ellieslob @xayn-xd @keikuahh @maneskinwh0re @raphaellearp

@iamastar @sevikitty @mascdom @nhaaauyen @annesunshiner

@mirconreadzztuff22 @veoomvroom @lushh-s3vik4s @katyawooga @lesbodietcoke

@lavandasz @strawberrykidneystone

[stevieschrodinger]

Part One Two Three Four

“What?” Steve’s on edge, he doesn’t mean to snap, it just comes out that way. Eddie’s gone from never looking at him to...always looking at him. And the scrutiny is...it’s so fucking judgemental. Eddie has a horrible little smirk on his face as he fucking stares, eyeballing the drink Steve is pouring for himself, Steve is on the edge of just...screaming at him, or something.

Eddie huffs, rolls his eyes, but still doesn’t say anything.

Steve pinches the bridge of his nose, takes a deep calming breath, and reminds himself that absolutely none of this is Eddie’s fault. They’re alone for the first time in a while, so Steve takes his chance, “I’m really sorry, about what I said, okay? I’m sorry I...tricked you. It was wrong, it was absolutely a dick move, I had no right to know, and I’m sorry.”

Eddie does look away then, deflating a little, Steve’s apology seems to have knocked the wind out of his sails, or something. Diluted the anger a little, at least.

“It’s…” Eddie shrugs, staring the shit out of the kitchen floor, “my Steve didn’t drink.”

Steve scrunches his nose up, surprised, “what, at all?”

Eddie shrugs, “glass of wine with dinner maybe, if we went somewhere just the two of us but...no. Not really,” he keeps picking the label off his own beer.

“But why?” Steve asks, so incredulous at the revelation that he forgets to be pissed off.

Eddie won’t look at him now, though, tinking a ring against the glass bottle. The moments long enough that Steve knows Eddie’s debating if he should tell him at all, but eventually Eddie sighs, “when Ronnie was tiny, she got a cough. She was like...fine, we didn’t think anything of it, just thought she was being grizzly or whatever. And Steve had a drink, and I hadn’t, so it was fine but, I checked on her, and she was fast asleep but like had a raging temperature. And it didn’t matter, we had baby meds in the house, we were prepared but...Steve got so worried. He was like but what if we’d run out of meds or...or they didn’t bring her temperature down and she needed urgent care or whatever. I mean, she was absolutely fine, we changed her out of her footie jammies and the medicine worked just fine so...literally nothing happened but...Steve still got so worried about it. So he decided he needed to always be able to drive just in case and he just...stopped. Drinking.”

Steve wants to open his mouth and dispute it. Wants to tell Eddie he’d never fucking do that, that he isn’t the paragon of perfection Eddie dreamed up while his body was busy beating the crap out of every one. That he can’t possibly compare...but he can see it. He wouldn’t miss it, he knows he wouldn’t, and it’s the logical way to make sure his kid is fine then...yeah. Steve would, the thinks. He thinks he would do that.

“He sounds like a good guy,” Steve answers softly.

And Eddie, Eddie smiles before biting his lips together. He closes his eyes and swallows, thick and slow, his voice breaking when he speaks, and Steve knows that Eddie’s fighting a loosing battle against the tears, “he was.”

“Do you want…” Steve holds his arms out, and Eddie all but falls into them, “I know I’m not him, okay, I know that, but I’m here, if you want me to be here.”

Steve thinks he feels Eddie nod, as he sobs against Steve’s chest, curled up so Steve can hold all of him. And Steve cries too. He can't keep the tears inside. Eddie’s pain is palpable, and this isn’t about Steve, not really, Eddie’s Steve was real to Eddie but...the details. The details of Eddie’s story are gutting to listen to. He had a child, and she grew up, and Eddie...he remembers all these little details of their lives.

“Why are you crying?” Eddie chokes out through a sob.

“The footie pajamas,” Steve manages through his own tears, “you had a little girl Eds, you had a little girl and you-” Steve can’t finish it, it’s just so horrible. So unbelievably cruel. Steve can’t even imagine, not really, “I’m so so sorry you went through this. It’s my fault, if I’d taken you with us, if I’d gotten you out, I didn’t know Eddie I swear I didn’t know-”

“I know. I know. Stop it. I probably...I’d be dead now, if you- although I don’t know if that would be better.”

“Jesus,” Steve drags him close drags him into a rib crushing hug, tries to press Eddie inside him, “don’t say that. Jesus Christ, please don’t say that.”

“I...okay.”

Eddie becomes his shadow, which is...kind of weird but also not. Steve doesn’t mind Eddie being there, not at all. He keeps feeling...strangely guilty, about the whole thing. Like it’s, at least, in some way, Steve’s fault, no matter what Eddie might say. Logically Steve knows Eddie’s right, and isn’t that ridiculous, that Eddie has been reassuring Steve? But Eddie is right, Steve couldn’t have known what would happen, no one could, and...Eddie was dead. There was absolutely no way to predict what could have happened but...Steve wears it anyway.

Not to mention the fact that Vecna must have chosen Steve to be Eddie’s imaginary husband for a reason...he must have...liked Steve, for that to work right? Before everything, it must have been realistic to Eddie’s mind that Steve was the one. At least, the thought must have been present enough for that to...take root. Steve doesn’t know, not really, but it haunts him anyway, a loose tooth that, although is painful, he can’t help fiddling with. Even though it’s nothing to do with him, not really.

Eddie stops drinking. He has his last beer, he in fact makes a point of telling Steve that it’s his last one, and not to buy more. So Steve gets one too, they chink them together, and drink them. Then, without speaking, Steve gathers the remaining seven beers out of the fridge and they stand side by side, shoulder to shoulder, pouring them away. It feels kind of poignant, and a little ceremonial. It feels like an important moment, one Steve will look back on, “you still could have had them,” Eddie points out quietly.

“Nah.” And then that’s...kind of it.

Steve can tell when Eddie really wants a drink. He gets antsy, the kind of restlessness that comes out as destruction, and Eddie gets snappy and bitchy and...hard work, to be around. Sometimes. He swears a lot, gets angry over nothing. There’s a lot of slammed doors and angry clanking and music played loud enough that Steve winces and leaves the house for a while, not really caring what the neighbors think.

Steve lets it wash over him, or at least, does his best to, at first. But finding Eddie shredding the pages of a note book, one at a time, and then getting shouted at for simply asking, “you okay?” Steve starts to figure this isn’t sustainable.

He honestly feels like he’d be taking his life into his hands if he dared suggest Eddie go to some sort of therapy – and who could he talk to, anyway? How could Eddie tell someone on the outside that he’s lived a full life, that he’s lost an adult child and been married for like, thirty years by the age of twenty one?

Steve ducks the notebook as it wings passed his head, watching as Eddie stomps out the back door, slamming it behind him.

“Am I...uhm, gonna’ get anything thrown at me?” Steve doesn’t come too close, just in case. A torn up notebook cover might not have hurt, but the beer bottle still stands out in Steve’s memory. He wonders vaguely if he should have called one of the girls to do this, but it feels cowardly.

Eddie shakes his head, gesturing vaguely with his burnt out cigarette. There’s a neat little row of butts and a scrunched up packet next to Eddie’s boot. Steve pulls up a lawn chair next to him, “sorry,” Eddie says quietly, pointedly not looking at him.

“Yeah, it’s okay-”

“No it isn’t.”

“No...probably not but...I get that you’re hurting, is what I mean.”

“Yeah,” Eddie says again, vaguely, “sometimes something just…” Eddie sighs, and after a few minutes Steve realizes he’s given up and isn’t going to say anymore.

“Reminds you?” Steve tries.

“Yeah,” Eddie gestures again vaguely, running his hand through his hair. It’s looking a little greasy, but Steve knows that at least Eddie stood under the water this morning so he will take what he can get. His clothes are clean today, at least, and that’s a little win considering can go days with no interest whatsoever in his own personal hygiene.

“Do you...want to tell me?”

Eddie sighs a big sigh, “I wrote a song for Steve, for like, our seventh anniversary. Something like that. I wrote it out, to check I still remember. I do.”

“Oh. That sounds...really nice.” That is...very romantic. It makes something flutter a little, inside Steve, because no ones ever done anything like that for him, put in work. It doesn’t take much for Steve to see that Eddie is absolutely that kind of guy. The all in kind of guy, “I bet he really appreciated that. I bet he loved it.” Steve knows he would.

“Yeah,” Eddie rasps, “yeah he did.”

[fatkish]

hashiras with child female reader who is like 12-13 years old and they are training her because she is their tsugoku or to be a slayer. reader loves to train and is enthusiastic, she does well in training, she never complains, she never misses and she has potential. One day reader is not going to train and when hashira goes to see her they find her in the fetal position and sobbing because her first period started. How would they react to that fact?

Hashiras Reacting to their young Tsuguko getting their first Period

(I didn’t know what kind of gif to put but I felt like this one from Tokyo Ghoul kinda fits)

Sanemi Shinazugawa:

Originally he was going to beat your ass for skipping on training but stopped when he saw you on the floor

For a moment he actually doubted how painful cramps could be and thought you were being dramatic but then he remembered that a lot of the corps members came from tragedy and you might not have had a female family member teach you about this stuff

Realizing that you might not actually know what’s happening to you, he realized he might have to teach you himself

After debating to himself about what to do he decided to go get you the supplies you needed

After setting the supplies outside your door, he went to the kitchen and started making you some soup like how his mom would when his siblings were sick

Obanai Iguro:

Absolutely is frozen, not because he doesn’t know what to do, I mean he grew up in a large family that was entirely made of women. He just doesn’t know how to approach this

He doesn’t want to embarrass you and he doesn’t know if you’d be comfortable talking about this with him

After much internal debating, he decided to ask Mitsuri for help

Mitsuri told him to stay by your side and get you food/drinks while she got you supplies

When she got there, she told Obanai to heat up a bath for you and make you some warm tea while she helped you

Shinobu Kocho:

Seeing you curled up on the floor, she suspected as much, I mean, you were getting to that age

The first thing she did was bring you some pain relievers and had you take a bath

While you were in the bath, she had the butterfly girls change your sheets if you happened to get blood on them while she prepares some tea for you and has Aoi prepare food for you to replenish the nutrients your body will lose

When you got out, she taught you the importance of hygiene and made sure to explain what’s happening and why in case you didn’t know

After that, she showed you how to use sanitary napkins/cloths/whatever they used back then

She made sure to answer any questions you might have to the best of her ability and made you get plenty of rest

Mitsuri Kanroji:

Oh she’s such a sweetheart heart

The moment she sees you curled up on the floor she runs to your side and asks a million questions about how you’re feeling thinking you might be terribly sick and on the brink of death

When you explain to her what’s happening, she sighs in relief and scoops you up and takes you to the bathroom where she runs a hot bath for you

While you’re in the bath, she cleans your sheets and gets you all the supplies you need

After the bath, she shows you how to use sanitary cloths and explains everything to the best of her ability and answers the questions you have

Afterwards, she makes sure to have you eat something and rest

Rengoku Kyojuro:

Oh boy, he’s perhaps one of the worst when it comes to this, though not intentionally

When he sees you curled up on the floor, he immediately asks what’s wrong and is frozen when you tell him

Yes he knows about these things but he has no experience with it, but his father might

So he goes to ask his father who begrudgingly gave him advice after listening to his oldest son go on and on until he realized his son might not shut up unless he helped

Kyojuro followed his father’s advice by having you take a hot bath and preparing a meal with Senjuro’s help

Afterwards, he had notified Mitsuri and she helped him with explaining to you what’s happening and how to properly handle it

Kyojuro listened intently to every word Mitsuri said as he wanted to be a good mentor to you and he wanted to understand as much as he could about monthly cycles and how they might affect you

Tengen Uzui:

Well, he supposes this was bound to happen eventually

Luckily he has three wives so he’s no stranger to periods and isn’t shy about talking about it

Honestly one of the best when it comes to this

He makes sure that if you’ve bled through your clothes, to make sure you don’t notice since he doesn’t think periods are anything to be ashamed or embarrassed about

He immediately sends you into the bathroom to wash yourself and take a nice long hot bath

He cleans your clothes of any blood if there is any while his wives prepare food and tea for you that will help with the pain and be easy to eat

His wives show you how to properly wear protective cloth and they answer any questions you have

Gyomei Himejima:

With age comes wisdom, he’s raised children before and although he may have never had to help any of the female children through this, he knows the basics

When he hears your quiet pained whimpers he understands that something is wrong and asks you what it is that ails you

When you tell him, he understands and asks if you understand or know what’s happening. Whether or not you understand, he first helps you to the bath and has you wash up while he either asks Lady Amane for assistance or a female Kakushi or Shinobu

Once your cleaned up, the female he asks for assistance helps you and shows you how to wear sanitary cloths and explains how to maintain proper hygiene

After they leave, Gyomei sits down with you and answers any questions you may have and gently explains what’s happening to your body

He listens to you and allows you to tell him however you’re feeling and insists that you let him know whenever something is bothering you

Giyuu Tomioka:

He had an older sister so he knows a little bit about this stuff but he knows he’s no expert

When he sees you laying on the floor all curled up holding your abdomen he assumes you might have a stomach bug and calls for Shinobu

When she arrives, she initially berates him for what she assumed was a stomach bug like he told her and says he should be able to handle things like this on his own

She later retracts her statement but doesn’t tell him that when she learns what’s actually happening

She helps you out and teaches you how to care for yourself and how to maintain proper hygiene all while having Giyuu make you food and tea

After he learns what’s happening after Shinobu leaves, he stands around outside your door trying to figure out how to tell you that you can rely on him

He ends up chickening out and just listens for you if you need anything and gets it for you

Muichiro Tokito:

Poor boy has no idea what is happening and just assumes you’re being lazy or that you might be sick

No one ever taught him about sex and how the reproductive system works for both genders so he has no clue

Seeing as he is clueless he calls for Shinobu when he sees the blood on the sheets thinking that you’re bleeding internally

When she arrives, she sits both you and Muichiro down and explains in detail what’s happening and how to go about taking care of yourself

She explains how things work and what to do as well as helpful tips and tricks

[violentdelightsandviolentends]

Honey Girl. Chapter Four.

Chapter One. Chapter Two. Chapter Three. Chapter Five. Chapter Six. Chapter Seven. Chapter Eight. Chapter Nine. Chapter Ten. Series Masterlist. The Playlist.

Chapter Synopsis - You and Bucky deal with the fallout of Cora's reveal. What's that saying? If you love something, let it go...

Pairing - Dad'sBestFriend! Bucky Barnes x Female Reader - soulmate au

Age Rating - 18+

Warnings - cursing. angst. alcohol consumption.

Word Count - 5k

Author's Note - i can only apologise that this chapter took a little while!! my life is at a super weird place rn, so i'm just trying to find the time when i can. words cannot describe how incredible all of your support is for Honey Girl. the fact you all reblog and comment and send me asks means the world to me. love you all so much.

as always, reblogs, comments and feedback (even anonymous feedback) are immensely appreciated!! your reblogs are the only way to circulate my fics, which keeps me going <3

Masterlist. Inbox.

You can't breathe.

It's like all of the oxygen has been sucked out of the air, leaving it dry, brittle, sterile. Your lungs are burning, scratched like sandpaper. The backyard is spinning, like teenagers at a roller rink - all flashing lights and endless rotations.

You haven't taken your eyes off of Bucky, and he hasn't taken his eyes off of you. If you were thinking more logically, you'd probably realise that you've been staring at each other for too long, and it's starting to look a little suspicious. You don't care.

Your ears are ringing. It's like there's been an explosion, and you're scattered amongst the debris. Smoke, flames, rubble. A catastrophic detonation in your parents backyard.

A gentle hand on your shoulder snaps you back to reality. The music is still playing, everyone around the table is still conversing, the house still stands. No explosion here.

"Sweetheart?"

It's your Mom, clearly sensing your distress. She probably thinks you're upset with her, for telling Cora. You are, but that's not what's causing the pain in your chest.

"Come inside with me, baby girl. Let's get away from the noise for a second."

She grabs your hand and pulls you out of your chair, still none the wiser to the magnetism preventing you from breaking your gaze that's locked on Bucky's. She practically drags you inside, the cool air of the kitchen waking you up.

"Sweetheart, I am so, so sorry. Cora overheard the conversation we had earlier. I thought it was good news, so I didn't think to ask her to keep it private."

She looks like she's being eaten alive by guilt. Your bottom lip quivers, your eyes well up, and before you know it, there are warm, salty tears dripping down your cheeks.

"Hey, hey. What's the matter?"

You sit down on the tiled floor, back pressed against the cabinets. Curling your knees to your chest, you try to stifle your sobs.

"Everything's such a mess, Mama."

She drops to the ground, gathering you in her arms. She holds you as tight as she can, rubbing soothing circles into your back and whispering comforting words in your ear. Eventually, she pulls back to look at you.

"What's the matter, baby? I thought Stella's call was a good thing - that you'd be excited to go back to California."

You take a shaky breath before replying.

"It's just... I think - I don't, it's... it's so complicated."

She traces her fingers over your cheeks, your eyebrows, your nose. She dances her fingertips over your face, as if she's committing it to her mind forever. It brings back warm and cosy childhood memories of her doing the same thing to help you sleep. The two of you would snuggle up against all of your pillows in bed, tucked up and safe. She'd lie with you until she was sure you were dreaming, before kissing you on the forehead and sneaking out.

"Talk to me. We can figure it out. We always do."

"It's not that simple. I just... there's a lot going on, I guess. I thought it'd be an easy decision, but it isn't, and it's all I can think about, and it's eating me up because I'm so scared I'm gonna do the wrong thing -"

You cut yourself off with a sob, resting your head on your knees.

"I knew there was something bothering you, sweetheart. Why didn't you come and talk to us? Even if we can't fix it, we can listen."

"I thought I could handle it. I thought I could figure it out on my own."

"You don't ever have to carry stress like this on your own, baby girl. Ever. You hear me?"

You nod and lean into her, letting her rock you in her arms on the kitchen floor.

"I'm sorry again, about Cora. She means well, you know she does."

"I know. Doesn't feel like it sometimes, but I know."

A pause.

"Okay, sweetheart. What are we going to do now? Whatever you decide, we'll support you."

"Your Mom's right," your Dad says from the doorway. "Whatever you choose, we'll be right alongside you. No matter what."

He strides over to join the two of you on the floor, sandwiching you between him and your Mom.

"If you need help packing up and moving, we're here. If you need us to create an elaborate lie to tell Stella, we're here. Either way, you've got us."

You smile at him gently, leaning to rest your head on his shoulder. Regardless of what happens, you have two parents that love you more than anything in the world. That has to count for something.

"You wanna rejoin us outside, or are you too tired? No one will blame you if you go home."

"I think I'll go home," you murmur. "I don't wanna face any more questions for today."

"Bucky's just gone too. Said something about an early morning tomorrow."

You inhale shakily at the mention of his name. You know you'll have to face him sooner or later.

Your Dad stands and grabs your hands to help you to your feet, before doing the same to your Mom. They both hug you tightly before walking you out to the front door.

"Promise me you'll call if you need anything. Anything."

"I promise, Mama. Don't worry about me. I'll be okay."

"Do you want one of us to walk you home?"

"No, it's okay. I think I need the air."

"Love you, baby girl."

"Love you too. Both of you."

✵  ✵    ·　 ✵ 　　 *  · ✵

You're halfway home when you decide to turn around. You need to talk to Bucky.

It doesn't take you long to figure out where he is. You can feel in your chest that he's close by, that he hasn't strayed far. He hasn't gone home, though. The Universe is pulling you in the opposite direction.

The beach.

You spin on your heel and start walking down the road, picking up pace as you go. You can feel rain in the air, threatening to spill from the clouds at any given moment. Before you know it, you're running, sprinting along the sidewalk in the direction of your soulmate.

You get to the small boardwalk and look out over the sand. The sky is grey as concrete, cold and unforgiving. You spot a figure in a worn brown leather jacket by the shore, and you know instantly. It's him.

You march onto the beach with your shoes still on, wrapping your arms around yourself to act as a shield from the wind. You left your jacket at your parent's house, too eager to get out of there in a hurry. The rain is suspended in the air, never quite reaching the ground. You know it's only a matter of time before the heavens open.

"Bucky!" you yell, practically bounding across the sand. "Buck!"

He doesn't turn because he hears your voice. He turns because he suddenly feels like he can breathe, which he hasn't been able to do for the last hour. He knew you were there before you shouted his name.

"Bucky, please!"

He spins on his heel and stops walking, waiting for you to catch up with him. You're sprinting, panting as you reach him. The ocean waves crash against the shore, dangerously close to his boots.

"Buck, just let me explain," you choke out, trying to catch your breath.

You finally stop running and look at him. He looks broken. His hair looks like he's pulled his fingers through it repeatedly, tear tracks staining his cheeks, lips bitten red. You've never seen him upset like this. It's the worst thing you've ever witnessed.

"There's nothing to explain," he begins calmly, trying to keep a lid on his feelings.

"There is, Buck. There is. I... Cora overheard me confiding in my Mom, telling her about a call I'd gotten, from a classmate at culinary school. It was just an offer - I haven't accepted anything! I never meant for you to find out like this, I swear. It's all just... it's all so fucked up."

He looks at you in disbelief.

"No, you know what's fucked up?" he asks, raising his voice. "Finding out that my soulmate is moving across the country from some alcoholic suburban mom at a dinner party!"

You've never heard him yell before. You don't like it at all. You gather yourself before replying calmly, determined to keep you emotions under wraps.

"I've been trying to find a way to talk to you about it, but I didn't know where to start. How do I even begin to explain any of this?"

"Maybe, I don't know - 'hey, Buck, I got a call and I'm thinking of moving thousands of miles away for my dream job,' would be a good place to start?"

"It's more complicated than that. I was trying to protect you."

"Protect me from what?"

"From blowing your life up for me!"

You stare at each other for a minute, both of you unblinking.

"What are you talking about?" he croaks out.

"You'd drop everything for me, Bucky, and I can't let you do that. You've worked too damn hard to let it all go."

He's dumbfounded, for a moment. Not because he doesn't understand. No. He's realising that you're right.

"I knew that if I told you straight away, you'd have persuaded me to let you come with, and I would have said yes. And then you'd regret it, and you'd resent me, and we'd be over before we've even begun."

When he doesn't say anything, you continue.

"The thing is, Buck, the selfish part of me would have happily invited you along. Me and you, in California, running a bakery? That sounds like a fucking dream. But I have to listen to the other side of me, the selfless part. And that part is telling me that you have worked too damn hard for too damn long just for me to take that all away."

You feel droplets of water on your face, and for a moment, you wonder when you started to cry again. Then, in the deep distance, you hear a crack of thunder. The rain begins to pour, both of you caught in a storm in more ways than one.

"You don't get to make a decision like that for me!" he finally responds, yelling to be heard over the downpour. "We're supposed to talk about these things! To figure them out together! That's what soulmates are - we're a team!"

"I can't think rationally around you, Bucky! It's like all logic goes out the window. I'm just so overwhelmed with-"

You stop yourself before the word comes out, but you both know what you were about to say. He feels it in his ribcage, the surge of emotion from you.

"-with how I feel about you. You're my forever, Buck, and I feel like -" a sob wracks through you, shaking your frame. "-like I've fucked it all up already."

Your tears mix with the rainwater, trailing down your cheeks. You watch as Bucky fights with himself, internally battling his feelings.

"You're not the only one fucking it up," he chokes. "You repeatedly told me we had to take it slow, but I just... couldn't help myself. I've never felt for anyone what I feel for you, and being away from you for even a minute is fucking torture. I moved us too fast, and now look where we are. We've become the equivalent of a married couple in a couple of weeks. No one can handle change that sudden."

"It's not.. none of this is your fault, Buck. I kept something from you, something big. I know it doesn't matter now, but I want you to know how hard it's been to not tell you. It was killing me."

"I felt it," he murmurs shakily, willing himself not to cry. "In my chest. You were so torn up about something, and I just couldn't figure out what it was. I should have pushed you more, but I was worried I'd push you away."

Your lip trembles as you watch him bite his own anxiously.

"I'm so scared, Buck," you whisper. "I feel so lost and so confused and like nothing makes sense."

"Me too," he whispers back, eyes never leaving yours. "I'm fucking terrified. Our worlds have been turned upside down."

"Is it... is it supposed to be this hard? Everyone makes it sound so easy."

"I don't know. Maybe the Universe heard that we were anti-soulmate and decided to be super tough on us. Cosmic karma, or something."

You choke out a laugh through your tears. The rain has plastered your clothes to your body, the salty wind chilling you to the bone. Without thinking, Bucky takes off his jacket and wraps it around you, unable to watch you shiver any longer.

"What now?" you ask quietly. If he wasn't standing so close, he wouldn't have heard it.

"Let's get out of the storm," he suggests, nodding his head towards the path home. "We can talk some more somewhere warmer."

You sniffle and take a deep breath, willing yourself to get it together. Bucky surprises you by linking your hand with his, warm fingers intertwining around yours.

He doesn't let go the whole way home.

✵  ✵    ·　 ✵ 　　 *  · ✵

Bucky takes you to his house.

You haven't been here since before your Tethering. You walk in the door, and your knees threaten to give way.

It's overwhelming.

Everywhere - everything - smells like Bucky. His scent clings to every fabric, every upholstery, every room. There's pictures scattered across the mantelpiece, his handsome face staring at you wherever you go. The house is warm, cosy, and just so Bucky it makes your heart ache.

You walk over to the fireplace, taking a closer look at the array of frames adorning it. There's one of your parents and Bucky smiling, sat out on his lawn last summer; another of Bucky and his team of mechanics, stood proudly outside his garage. A small black frame catches your eye. You pick it up, and your breath hitches in your chest.

It's a picture of the two of you on the deck of his boat, the day after you found out you were soulmates. The wind is blowing your hair, billowing your shirts, sun beating down on your skin. You're both beaming at the camera, bright and blinding, completely content.

You're holding back tears as you put it back in it's original place.

"My favourite picture," he murmurs from somewhere behind you. "We look happy."

"We were happy," you whisper. Then, quieter, "We will be again."

A pause.

"You want something to drink? Coffee, cocoa? Oh, I have that tea you like, the apple one?"

"You do?"

"Yeah. I, uh, bought some last time I went grocery shopping. In case you stopped by."

"Tea sounds good. Please."

You stay stood in the middle of the living room while Bucky puts the kettle on the stove, worried that your wet clothes will ruin his couch. As if he's read your mind, he pops his head around the door.

"There's a load of fresh clothes folded on top of the dryer. Grab whatever you want, dry off a little."

You wander into the laundry room, sorting through the pile. You find a t shirt with his garage logo on the back in big, white letters.

J.B.B. Motorcycles and Automotives.

The blocky, bold font swirls across the black material. You run your fingers over it, tracing the curves and spikes of the typeface. It's something you've seen him in a million times. You inhale deeply as you slip it over your head, revelling in the way it smells like him. You grab some boxer shorts and slip those on too, glad to finally be warm and dry.

Bucky loses his breath when you walk into the room. He's never seen you in his clothes before, and for good reason. He's about to have a goddamn heart attack.

"Tea is on the coffee table," he chokes out. "I'm gonna change, and then we'll talk, yeah?"

You nod gently, settling into the cushions of his couch and tucking your legs underneath you, mug warming your hands.

When Bucky returns, he's in sweatpants and an oversized hoodie that you want to burrow yourself into. He takes his place, careful to put a little distance between you. Far enough that you're not touching, but close enough that you almost are.

"I'm sorry," you whisper. "I'm not good at this."

"Neither am I," he smiles gently. "It's my first time having a soulmate."

"Mine too," you laugh softly.

It floors you, his ability to always be able to comfort you. It's like a superpower, the way he always knows what to say or do to put you at ease.

"I think we got a little ahead of ourselves," he begins, careful to keep his voice low and deliberate. "I keep forgetting that we have forever. Literally. I was so eager to rush into this with you because I got excited. Don't get me wrong, I'm still ridiculously excited, but I'm realising now that our version of 'slow' wasn't slow at all."

"This whole Tethering thing makes everything so intense. There have been times where I honestly thought I was going to drop dead if you didn't kiss me."

"The feelings mutual," he chuckles.

You lace your fingers with his, never breaking eye contact, before addressing the elephant in the room.

"What am I gonna do about California, Buck?"

Your voice cracks just saying the word.

"Stella needs an answer, and I've upset you, and my parents are clueless, and I just - I don't know what to do. Tell me what to do. Please."

"I can't tell you what to do, honey," he soothes, running his thumb over the back of your hand. "And I'm not upset. I was, in the backyard... but I was mainly just blindsided. I kinda get it, you not telling me. I'm not sure what I'd do in your situation either."

"I just feel like both decisions are wrong. I can't win."

"Hey, hey. Look at me, pretty baby."

Bucky cradles your face in his warm hands, forcing your eyes to meet his ocean blue ones. You have to focus on his words, so you don't get lost in the waves of his irises.

"At the end of the day, it's completely your decision, and no one in the world can change that. But-"

He takes a deep breath, and continues.

"I think that you'll regret it every day for the rest of your life if you don't take the incredible opportunity that's been offered to you."

You take a second to process what he's telling you, your mind running at a thousand miles an hour.

"Are you... you're... are you saying I should take the job?"

"Like I said, it's your decision, but... yes. I'm saying you should take the job."

Your eyes well with tears, and you bite your lip to stop them from escaping. Inhaling carefully, you put your hands on his chest, feeling his steady heartbeat under your palms. He's calm. He's sure. He's collected enough for the both of you.

"What about us?" you ask, barely above a whisper.

"Like you said, baby. I'm your forever." Buck leans in, resting his forehead to yours. "We have time."

"All the time in the world."

You connect your lips to Bucky's softly, testing the waters. He kisses you back with so much feeling, tears slip from your lashes without warning. He's crying too, emotion mixing with yours, dousing you both.

You pull away and wrap your arms around him, curling yourself into his chest. He holds you as tightly as he can, knowing this will be the last time for a long time.

"So you'll go."

"I'll go."

"And I'll stay."

"You'll stay."

"And we'll be okay. No matter what, we'll be okay."

You and Bucky fall asleep in each others arms, cherishing the feeling of home one last time.

✵  ✵    ·　 ✵ 　　 *  · ✵

The happiness is starting to seep through.

You're devastated to be leaving Bucky behind, but you're trying to look on the bright side. Sunny beaches, new people, your dream job. If you think about the positives for long enough, the Bucky sized hole in your chest hurts a little less.

You're packing up your bookshelf when your phone rings, scaring the life out of you.

"Bitch!"

You know who it is instantly.

"Hi, Lacie."

"Where have you been? Why didn't you answer my text from last night?"

"Shit, sorry. I've been packing. What's up?"

"We're going out tonight. Not just us - all the girls. We're throwing you a goodbye party!"

You groan inwardly, massaging your temples with your fingers.

"A party? Lace, I don't need a party."

"Babe, you do. You really do. It'll be fun! I thought you'd be excited!"

You take a deep breath, and remember what you've been telling yourself. Focus on the positives.

"Okay, fine. Where? What time? What should I wear?"

"I knew you'd say yes! Come to my place at like... six? We can get ready together, like old times! And wear something sexy."

She doesn't wait for you to argue, just hangs up the phone. She knows you too well.

You know it'll be good for you, to see your girlfriends - but the thought of all the goodbyes you're about to say breaks your heart a little more.

✵  ✵    ·　 ✵ 　　 *  · ✵

"Okay, what the fuck is going on with you?"

You're sat cross legged on Lacie's living room floor, sharing makeup that's scattered across the coffee table. You sip your wine for a moment, trying to come up with an excuse. It's no use.

"I don't know."

"Bullshit."

You turn to look at her.

"What?"

"It's bullshit, babe. Something's going on. You've been given your dream job, and you're moping around like you just got broken up with or something. Why aren't you happy?"

There's no malice in her voice, just pure love. She adores you. You adore her. She's the one person with an outsiders perspective on all of this. So, you cut the act.

"I had my Tethering."

Silence.

She's processing.

"What?!"

"Yeah."

"When? Who? Where? How? Oh my God what is happening? Why didn't you say anything? Fuck, I'm gonna cry. I'm so overwhelmed right now, I'm so happy for you! Wait... are we not happy?"

"It's... complicated."

There's a lump in your throat, but a levity in your heart. A weight has been taken off you. Telling someone the truth has made you feel a little lighter.

"Who is it, babe?"

You take a deep breath, and look her in the eyes.

"Bucky."

Her jaw drops.

"Your... your Dad's best friend Bucky?"

"That's the one."

"Oh. My. Fucking. God."

"Yeah."

"Holy shit."

"Yeah."

"This is complicated."

"Yeah."

"Aw, babe."

She pulls you in for a hug, not caring about the makeup you're smearing across her shirt. You cling to her as tightly as you can, savouring your best friends comfort.

"Does anyone else know?"

"No. We decided not to tell my parents for a while."

"Shit. No wonder you've been so sad lately. You're moving across the country, away from the one person you're supposed to be near."

"It's really hard," you whisper, tears threatening to spill.

"I can't even begin to imagine," she murmurs, holding you close. "I wish you'd told me sooner. We could have talked about it."

"I know," you sniffle. "I thought I could handle it on my own, but I really can't."

"You're not on your own, okay? You have Bucky, and you have me. You can always talk to me about this stuff. God knows I talked your ear off about Cameron."

You laugh softly, thinking back to that day that feels both like yesterday and a million years ago.

"Where is he tonight?"

"Out with his boys. It's good for us to spend a few hours apart."

You smile at the happiness that's radiating off her. She's glowing, beaming in all directions.

"Thanks, Lace. I love you. You know that right?"

"Of course I do. I love you too. So much," she leans forward to kiss your cheek. "Now let's have one hell of a last girls night, shall we?"

✵  ✵    ·　 ✵ 　　 *  · ✵

You've lost track of exactly where you are.

You know you're downtown somewhere, in one of the bars. This one smells like wood and whiskey, lowlit and smoky. You hit the cocktail bar first, then the one covered in leopard print, then the monochrome pink one. Now, you're here.

The six of you are sat at a booth, high heels tangled and legs intertwined under the table. The wood is sticky with lemon wedges from tequila shots, salt scattered across the surface.

"If you find any hot west coast men, will you send them my way?" Reese asks, nudging you with her shoulder.

"And if you find any hot west coast women, will you send them mine?"

Everyone laughs, the scent of perfume filling the air.

"Rosa, what happened to Aubrey? We liked her!"

"Caught her kissing my ex girlfriend. So now they're both my ex girlfriends."

"Jesus Christ."

"Man, that's rough," Lacie giggles next to you.

The other girls continue to talk about Aubrey's infidelity as Lacie leans to whisper in your ear.

"Have you said goodbye to Bucky yet?"

You nod.

"Yesterday. I stayed the night, we fell asleep together. Said our goodbyes in the morning. It was awful."

"Love you," she whispers, squeezing your hand under the table.

"Love you too," you reply, squeezing back.

"There's a table of super hot guys over there," Maggie observes, tilting her head in their direction. "Maybe we should conveniently dance that way in a little while."

You don't bother to look over, knowing that none of them will compare to your soulmate. The other girls seem interested, though, so you smile along with them.

"Babe," Sam hisses, kicking you under the table. "There's a hot guy at that table, three o'clock, that keeps staring at you."

You glance over, and your heart stutters in your chest.

Bucky.

His blue eyes pierce your soul, even from across the room. For a moment, it's only the two of you, all the noise forgotten.

You're snapped back to reality by Sam.

"Fuck, he's hot. If you don't want him, I do."

"You should talk to him," Lacie suggests quickly. "Why not, right?"

She's practically pushing you out of the booth, high school wrestler style. In another life, you think, she would have made a good football player. All five foot four of her.

You walk past his table, eyes still locked on him, and towards the bathrooms. You know he'll follow you. You walk to the end of the hallway and out of the door, into the fresh night air.

You feel him appear before you see him. You lean your body against the wall, head resting on the cold brick. Bucky stands in front of you, shirt stretched across his shoulders gorgeously.

"Hi."

"Hi, honey baby."

You smile softly at the nickname.

"What are you doing here?"

"I got dragged to a boys night. What are you doing here?"

"I got dragged to a girls night."

He laughs, and all the tension melts from your muscles.

"Thought we said our goodbyes. I didn't think I'd see you again before I left."

"Me too. But you know the Universe. It hates us."

"Cosmic karma," you whisper.

The two of you stand down the alleyway, looking at each other carefully. Neither of you wants to spook the other person. You'd processed your leaving, said your emotional goodbyes. And now he's here, standing in front of you. You don't want to have to do it all again.

"I should probably get back inside, before the girls get the wrong idea."

"Baby, I followed you to the bathroom. They've already got the wrong idea."

You chuckle, kicking at a rock on the ground.

"Yeah. I don't know how I'm gonna explain this."

A smile. A pause.

"I'll let you get back to your friends, then."

You lean up to press a kiss to his stubbled cheek.

"Bye, Buck."

"Bye, pretty girl."

You push off the wall and walk away towards the door. Suddenly, a warm hand wraps around your wrist, yanking you into a solid chest.

Bucky kisses you like a man possessed. There's nothing gentle about it - just pure, unadulterated passion. It's all teeth and tongue and nipping and biting, neither of you willing to be the first to pull away.

He walks you back into the wall, pushing you against the rough brick. You hike a leg up onto his hip as he grabs your thigh to pull you closer, desperate to feel all of you. Your hands are in his hair, around his neck, tangled in his collar, his shirt, his belt loops. Anything you can get your hands on, you grab.

A distant chorus of cheers break you out of your lust fuelled haze. A bachelorette party walks by, one of the women winking at you as they go. You and Bucky take a step away from each other, straightening out your clothes and fixing your hair.

"Promise me you'll call me if you need anything," Bucky murmurs, leaning to rest his forehead on yours.

"I promise," you whisper, almost against his lips. "Goodbye, Bucky."

"Goodbye, honey girl."

✵  ✵    ·　 ✵ 　　 *  · ✵

The salty ocean wind whips through your hair, sun beating down onto your skin, some upbeat pop song humming from the radio. You keep your eyes glued to the road in front of you, begging yourself not to look back. You know if you do, you'll turn the car around and run straight back into Bucky's arms.

Let the happiness seep through, you remind yourself, gripping the steering wheel.

Let the happiness seep through.

tag list part one -

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