#and when i came back the pot was in flames

[shychili]

started the new year with a house fire 🥰

[bewaryofpity]

HONKY TONK FLAME - L. HUGHES

[2.6k] when you hit the bar with your friends to let loose, you certainly don’t expect to catch the eye of a cute cowboy.

warnings: 18+ MDNI, smut, public sex (kinda?), unprotected p in v (wrap it y'all), oral fem receiving, cum play (blink and you'll miss it), slightly unedited

a/n: i’ve seen a lot of cowboy!luke lately so here are my two cents ! also this is my first time writing something and posting it so be nice pls. if i missed any tags pls pls let me know. enjoy 🤍 !

.

“I didn’t order this.”

“It’s from the gentleman over there.”

As you turned around, you spotted a guy near the pool table looking in your direction and tilting his cowboy hat at you. Raising your glass in thanks, your friends snickered at you, after all you were all here for a specific reason: find you a hookup.

“Just go there and talk to him.”

“What? No!”

It wasn’t like you were completely inexperienced. You’d had your fair share of moments, but you were shy, and your friends teased you for it, but never pushed too hard. You just didn’t have enough alcohol in you to go up and talk to strangers, not yet anyways. 

Some country song was playing on the bar’s speakers, almost clouding your thoughts as you looked back at the guy now hunched over the pool table to get his shot in. That’s a nice ass.

Downing your drink in record time —and failing miserably, leaving just two fingers of liquid in the glass— to hopefully muster the little courage you have in your body, you sat up and started walking in his direction, just to turn back around midway.

“I can’t do it, it’s fucking embarrassing.”

“Just go, Y/N! How many men do you know that buy drinks for ladies nowadays?”

That was true. You were quite dumbfounded when the bartender approached your table, let alone when you found out it was from a young guy, and a good looking one at that. What’s the worst that can happen, anyway.

You turned back around and continued your mission towards the pool table, now feeling the alcohol slowly rushing to your head. As you got closer he started to feel your presence next to him, standing back up after potting the 8 ball. 

“You alright there, Sweets?”

His hat cast a shadow over his face, leaving out the smirk painting his lips, toothpick dangling between them. You kept staring at them, tongue playing around with the small wooden stick and rolling it side to side.

“Uh, yeah, just… thank you for the drink.”

“Pleasure’s mine.” Smirk turned into a full smile after your awkward approach and now you seriously couldn’t stop staring at the way he was rolling that toothpick between his teeth, darting that tongue around.

“Well, Sweets, wanna join me in a game of pool?”

“I don’t know how to play.”

“I’ll teach you.”

You didn’t have time to answer that he already took your drink from your hand, placed it over some table behind him, and put one of his hands on your back to nudge you towards the pool table. You were paying little to no mind to whatever rules he started to explain to you, instead focusing on how his hand covered almost your entire lower back.

You were sure your cheeks were totally pink and burning because the same hand traveled up your back, leaning you forward, almost all the way bent over the table. Your brain short circuited when you felt his body press into you, cold belt buckle pressed onto your back. His hat came to your view as he leaned over, completely engulfing your body.

“You following me, pretty girl?”

“No”

He let out a breathy chuckle that sent a shiver down your spine. Your face was mere inches away from his, and you wished you had the power to tilt your head up to enjoy that smile of his, but your only focus now were his hands on the table caging you in. 

“Sweet girl, I need you to pay attention to me.” He murmured in your ear before he straightened himself, bringing you back up with his hand splayed over your stomach. You weren’t one for pet names, but if he called you any variation of sweet again you were going to lose it. And that hand on your stomach wasn’t helping you at all.

“You haven't told me your name.” You said, turning around to face him, resting your weight on the ledge of the table.

“You didn’t ask, Sweets. It’s Luke.”

“Well, Luke,” you started as you took his hat off his head to put on yours, “I’m sure you’re a great teacher, but I don’t think I wanna play pool tonight.” Not much alcohol was left in your body to justify your boldness, but the reminder of his hands on you made you dizzy, your mind completely forgoing reason.

“Is that right?”

You nodded. Now that his hat’s shadow wasn’t hiding his face, you could make out his features a lot more. Curly hair a bit unruly, eyes so green and clear you could get lost in so easily. 

“I didn’t think my Sweets was a naughty girl.”

“What do you mean?”

“You don’t know? Wear the hat, ride the cowboy.” 

Oh. Sure, you were thinking of getting to know each other more before getting to the point, but this could work too. It was the whole reason for you being here tonight, right?

Luke caged you again with his arms, his head tilted down to look at you. He removed his toothpick, throwing it somewhere on the ground, before leaning over, lips brushing your ear.

“So, are you down for some fun tonight?” 

You sobered up completely, now face to face. He was enjoying how he rendered you speechless, the corners of his lips tugged upwards as your eyes stared at them. He raised his brows in question when you kept staring instead of answering him. Not trusting your voice, you nodded.

With his arm wrapped around your waist, he led you to the door. You started to feel like a teenage girl again, you were desperate to feel him closer, to feel his body weight press you down like earlier. You were not ashamed of the ungodly thoughts that were running through your mind. The tight shirt he was wearing was leaving little to nothing to the imagination, hugging him tightly, you needed to feel those muscles.

The chill air from outside hit your still burning cheeks. The back of the bar was illuminated by a single light on the wall you could barely make out Luke’s truck. If it wasn’t for his arm wrapped around you, you wouldn’t know where to go.

You opened the passenger seat’s door just slightly when Luke slammed it shut and turned you around and simultaneously nudged your back against the door. His lips fell to your neck, leaving a trail of wet kisses on his way to your jaw. You let out a soft moan when he reached that spot under your ear, feeling his smile on your skin.

Your hand grabbed at his curls, grunt silenced by your impatient lips on his. Luke trailed his hands down your spine until he reached down to your ass, squeezing the flesh and rutting his body into you. The growing bulge between his legs grazed against your thighs, his jeans rough against your skin.

“Get in the backseat.”

“Huh?”

“The backseat.”

And honestly, you don’t think you could’ve waited any longer. Luke pressed one last fiery kiss to your lips before letting you go. You crawled in the backseat and turned around to find Luke already on top of you. Locking eyes with you, he placed one hand on your thigh, the other found support on the window, before he leaned down to kiss you again.

You delved deeper and deeper into the kiss, tongues sloppy. Instinctively, you wrapped your legs around his middle, heels of your feet digging into his lower back, while your hands played with the hem of his shirt. Luke bit your lower lip and you whined when he pulled away. 

“Patience, my girl. I wanna know if you taste just as sweet here.”

His rough hands roamed and touched every inch of your skin, tantalizingly rubbing his thumbs against the inner side closest to your core. He pushed your dress up, coming into view with your lace panties. Crouching between your legs and pressing a kiss to your clothed core, you let out a soft moan, desperate for him to touch you where you needed most. 

Luke brushed the tip of his nose against your clit through the lace and moved away to graze his teeth across the inside of your sensitive thighs, lips nipping at your skin, and you were certain he was marking you up nicely.

“Please, Luke, I need you.”

“No need to beg, ma’am.”

He chuckled softly, warm breath fanning out across your core, making you squirm. His fingers nudged the lace to the side and swiped two between your folds, teasing at your entrance.

“So wet f’me.” Luke murmured, kissing your hip. You took a deep breath, your back arching as he slid two digits into you, working them in and out of you gently. You jolted as he pressed his mouth between your legs, clasping his lips around your clit and pressing his tongue flat against you. You whined, your fingers slid up into his curls trying to keep his head close. Rolling your hips down against his tongue, his left hand held your hips down as his fingers drove deeper into you, curling up against your g-spot, making you moan loudly.

Luke looked up at you from between your legs, groaning at your sight. Your eyes were closed, head thrown back in pleasure, one of your hands massaging your breast. And it took everything in him to focus on something else so he didn't cum in his pants right then and there.

“Let me hear how pretty you sound when you come.” He gave your thigh a kiss before putting his mouth to work again, and you squirmed at the sensation. You were in heaven. Luke kept thrusting his fingers deep, curling them and working his tongue against your clit. His left hand kept pushing on your lower stomach to keep you still.

“Fuck, I’m so close.” You admitted, lips parted as you looked down at Luke, your fingers knotting in his soft brown hair. You were hit by your orgasm, desperate moans spilled from your lips and he still didn’t stop, tongue flicking at your clit in fast motions. Both his hands now focused on keeping your thighs spread for him, definitely leaving finger marks on your skin. You cursed, pushing yourself up on your elbows, trembling when he finally gave you mercy. 

You called out to him with a shaky voice as he stood up between your legs and pressed his lips to yours instantly. Your fingers trailed along the lines on his stomach through the shirt, reaching for the hem and pulling it up over his head, discarding it haphazardly. You kept kissing him while you popped open the button of his jeans. He was silent, lips toying at a smile as you dragged the zipper down. 

He sat back up, motioning for you to come and sit in his lap. His cock had been straining at that denim for too long, if he’d let you touch him now he could cum in his boxers, and Luke had other plans. Holding onto his shoulder with one hand and onto the roof of the truck with the other, you felt his cold belt buckle press onto your bare thigh.

Luke smashed his lips onto yours again and your fingers slid up into his curly hair, tugging lightly at his roots, the other hand busy stroking him through his boxers. He whined as you pulled away, more interested in sucking and nipping, lips pressing to a straining vein in his neck.

His hands pawed at your breasts over the top of your dress before pulling it down for easier access. You mewled, shivering as his thumb swiped over your nipple. He grazed his teeth along your nipple, wrapping his lips around the pert skin, flicking his tongue over it. 

“Please.”

“Tell me what you need baby”

“I need you inside me please.” You begged as he kept leaving open-mouthed kisses on your breasts.

“Mh, so polite.” He hummed, leaving wet kisses on his path to your lips and he rolled his hips slightly, grinding himself against you. He curled one hand into your hair and tugged softly, making you moan. 

You pull at his jeans and boxers, enough to free his aching cock, and you wrap one of your hands around its base. Luke groaned softly, lips on your throat as you rocked yourself against the head of his cock before lining him with your entrance, bottoming out completely with a gasp leaving your lips. He tugged at your hair once more, turning your head and kissing your mouth. You mewled quietly against his mouth as he lifted his hips just slightly, pressing himself deeper into you, your fingers digging into his shoulders for leverage.

Luke’s hands moved down to cup your ass and squeeze your cheeks hard between his fingers, pulling you more into him. He growled shifting his hips to change the angle deeper as he threw his head back in pleasure. Lowering your head and kissing his neck with fervor, sucking small bruises, you lifted your hips and lowered yourself onto him at a slow pace. Despite being impatient, Luke let you set the pace, rocking his hips up against you. Your desperate moans filled the truck, mixed with his soft grunts.

He sat up slightly, lips parted as he watched you lost in pleasure riding his dick. His brows knitted together as he looked down between your bodies and groaned softly. He smacked your ass harshly, leaning forwards and attaching his mouth to your skin, desperate to get a taste of you. His left hand reached blindly for his discarded hat from earlier and you giggled as he put it on your head again.

“Shit,” Luke took his lip between his teeth, as you squeezed him, “you feel so fucking good.” 

He bit at the skin of your shoulder, grinding himself up to meet you each time you came down on him, and you cried out at the feeling. 

“More.” You whimpered. You were so close as Luke kept hitting all the right spots, his hands grabbing at your hips and squeezing firmly at your plea. He interrupted your rhythm, making you whine even more, and digging your fingers into his bicep as he changed the pace by buckling his hips upwards. He was all that you could focus on, guiding you as you bounced on his cock, his eyes on your face as you rode him.

“Shit, that’s it,” Luke nodded his head, watching as your lips parted and your head dropped back, “good girl, just like that.”

He pressed his mouth to your throat as his other hand fell to your clit as he kept pounding into you. His soft groans pushed you to the edge as he fucked you through your orgasm before he pulled you off, stroking himself to chase his own. Ropes of cum coated his stomach as he came undone with a grunt. He looked so hot like this, heavy breathing, curls stuck on his forehead. 

And Luke felt like he could go for more already as you brought two fingers to his lower stomach, picking up his cum to get a taste.

“If I knew you tasted just this good, I would’ve begged to suck you off.” You moaned.

He chuckled at you, thumb stroked at your throat as he sat forwards, slipping his tongue into your mouth. You keened against his lips, breathing hard as he moved back to observe you again, lust never leaving his eyes.

“Next time, Sweets.”

[marvelwitchergilmore]

Dreams, A Nightmare and A Kiss

Summary: Logan x Fe!Reader -> After you have a dream about Logan, your brain can't seem to forget it. And neither will Logan.

Disclaimer: Descriptions of torture, crying, a creepy guy. Apart from that, teasing, fluff, a little dash of steam at the end. Not Proof Read

You kept having this recurring dream. Or maybe it was a nightmare. It was hard to tell. What do you call it when, what seems like a dream, turns into a very awkward situation where you don’t know what to do with yourself when you wake up? 

Do you try to forget it ever happened? Do you talk to someone about it? Do you talk to the person about it? Are you meant to talk to the person about it? Or would consulting a psychiatrist be easier, considering the person who you dreamt about…was not someone you would, or even should be dreaming about?

“Morning.” 

Storm placed down her coffee on the table before pulling out her chair. “Penny for your thoughts?”

“What?”

Storm pointed at you, “You look like you’re thinking too hard.”

“Too hard for this early in the morning,” you mumbled. 

“Well, then, talk to me. Maybe I can help.”

“I don’t think even the world's best psychiatrist can help me with this one.”

Storm shrugged. “Maybe you don’t need the world’s best. Come on, try me.”

You took a moment and looked at Storm. Maybe it was worth a go…

“Okay,” you sighed. Storm got comfortable in her seat and leaned forward. Meanwhile, you practically had to pull your legs under the table and untrap your hands from between them. 

“I had a dream.”

“You had a dream?”

You nodded, trying your best to look her in they eyes when you spoke. Was you really going to admit this outloud to someone? 

“I had a…dream.”

It took her a minute. “Oh…oh. Okay, well anyone will tell you that’s normal. Healthy even. You know, sometimes-”

“About Logan.”

Storm faltered and then came to a full stop, her hand still in the air and her jaw slacked. “Logan.”

Storm spoke slowly as she looked at you, trying to gauge if this was some big prank you were playing on her. It wasn’t April. 

“L…ogan?” She asked this time, just to be sure. 

You nodded. 

“Our Logan?”

“Do you know any other Logan’s?”

Storm shook her head and blinked her eyes for one second too long before coming back into movement. “No, I guess not. So…what’s the issue?”

You looked at her like she was both crazy and confusing. “You don’t see the issue?”

Storm shrugged, taking a sip of her coffee. “Not particularly. I mean, it is a little odd considering…well considering you two aren’t the most…harmonious.”

“Understatement.”

And it was. 

Both yourself and Logan, although civil most of the time, weren’t exactly known for being best pals. 

“So what was it about?”

“Ororo!”

She just smiled, “What? I want to know. How was it?”

“I…I can’t answer that.”

“Sure you can! Oh, come on, Y/n. You can’t tell a girl you and Logan shared…something and not tell her about it.”

You sighed, “Yes, I can.”

“Oh my god,” Storm smiled, leaning back in her chair. “You liked it.”

“What?” You could practically feel your face bursting into flames. “N-no. No I didn’t.”

But she just laughed in response. “You sooo totally want it to happen in real life.”

“Want what to happen?” 

You practically squealed with fright as both you and Storm sat straighter in your chairs and turned to see Logan walk through the door and over to the coffee machine. 

“Uhhh, nothing. Nothing at all. How did you sleep?”

From pouring coffee, Logan repeated your question. “How did I sleep?”

You nodded, willing the redness from your face to disappear. The grip you had held on the back of your chair as you twisted your body was growing stronger by the minute. 

“Yeah.”

Logan placed the coffee pot back in its place and looked to Storm. “Is she okay?”

Then you felt yourself go back to normal. “I’m fine, Logan.”

Logan looked back at you. The general look of disgust and disinterest, a little more prominent on your face. 

“I slept fine.” Logan answered. Then his face turned into a grin he was holding back. Well. Trying to hold back. “How did you sleep, Y/n?”

Storm watched your eyes widen for a second and the blush heated your face once more. “Fine.” you were forced out. 

Logan just nodded and sipped his coffee. “And you? Storm?”

“Like a baby.”

Logan nodded and smiled. “Good. Good.”

Then the bell went. “I better get going. I guess I’ll see you later. Or should I say tonight?”

Logan watched as your face twisted from nothing, to confusion, to shock to embarrassment to…turning around and hiding it completely. 

“Have a nice day, ladies.”

Covering your face, you hid it on the table, letting your muffled voice speak out from your arms as Storm placed a hand on your back. “How much do you think he heard?”

“Not much…I think.” Storm looked behind her, a pained look on her face for you. “If he had heard it all, he would have gloated more.”

You gave a whimper in pain and Storm placed her hand on the back of your head. “It shouldn’t be too bad.”

“It’s Logan.”

“Okay, so you’re screwed.”

Thankfully, you had managed to avoid Logan all day. Jean had found you hiding in the teacher’s lounge when you knew Logan was teaching. Even him thinking you were alone in your classroom was hard enough. 

“You don’t have anything that could reverse time? Or make me forget all of today?”

Jean smiled, “No. I don’t think so. But Storm told me what happened.”

“Oh, God.” You groaned, placing down your food by your feet and burying your head by your knees. “How many people know?”

“Just me and Storm,” Jean assured you. “And Logan,” she added. 

You groaned again. 

However, now that everything was finally silent, you took time to breathe. Maybe Logan would finally drop it. 

Not that he had said anything to you apart from that morning. But…it was Logan. When it came to you, he’d never let you live it down. 

Stepping a little higher on your feet, you reached into the back of the cupboard to try and find the last box of tea bags. Why Scott had been assigned to stock away the one thing he didn’t drink was beyond you. He always put it at the very back of everything on the top shelf of the cupboard. 

Not even on the first shelf at the back. 

No, he’d rather have you pull a muscle or get yet another bruise from the knobs on the oven. 

Finally reaching it, you stepped back and closed the cupboard door just as someone shouted your name. 

You let out a little scream that was followed by his laughter. 

“Logan! Jesus Christ.”

He smiled sheepishly, “Sorry. Was just too easy.”

You gave him a glare and bent down to pick up your box of tea bags before walking away to the other side of the kitchen where you had left the kettle by the sink. 

“It’s almost midnight. Don’t just sneak up on a girl like that.”

���Forgive me.” He was still smiling. Even with your back to him, you could tell. “But I figured you’d be busy dreaming about me.”

“Having a nightmare, more like.” 

“Oh, come on. You had a dream about me. Admit it.”

You scoffed and rolled your eyes before pushing down the kettle lid and placing it back on its holder before flicking the switch on. 

“Oh, please. You just want to gloat.”

“No, no. Okay, maybe a little.” Logan lowered his hands before using them to lift himself onto the counter where you stood by the island, chopping up some carrots. “What are you? The Easter Bunny?” Logan lifted a piece before putting it back down. 

With the knife still in your hand, you made direct eye contact as you pushed the knife down hard, listening to the snap of the carrot before returning your gaze to it. 

“So…tell me.” Logan began, picking up yet another piece of carrot yet this time eating it. “What was it about?”

“What was what about?”

“Your dream.”

“Logan,” you sighed. 

“What? Oh come on, we both know you dreamt of me. You could at least tell me what it was about considering you didn’t ask for my consent.”

You looked at him for a moment before walking away, towards the kettle that had finished boiling. 

Pouring the hot water into the cups, back on the island, you returned the kettle to its place, allowing the bags to steep in the water for a while. 

“Come on, you know you want to tell me.”

“I don’t want to tell you anything.”

“Did we kiss?” Logan asked, trying to find his answers. “Did we have sex? Sorry, make love. Did we get married? Did we-”

You sighed, placing down the knife. “We did nothing, Logan. I had a dream. You just happened to be there.”

“So what happened?”

“Nothing happened.”

Logan gave a coy look and lent down a little so he was closer to you. “Something happened.”

“Nothing happened.” You pressed. “Trust me, if anything you just asked me happened between me and you in any capacity, I’d be calling it a nightmare.”

Logan pouted and held his hand over his heart. “Oh, how you wound me.”

“You’re a grown man, Logan. Deal with it.”

Logan laughed, taking a couple steps back. “Okay, okay. I’ll drop it.”

“Thank you.” 

“For now.”

Leaning closer to you and over you, Logan reached for the second cup you hadn’t realised you had made of tea and took a handful of carrots with him. 

You berated yourself for having closed your eyes for a split second, letting his touch warm you. 

Logan was not a man you should or would ever go for. 

But Storm was right. 

You did enjoy it. 

You just never wanted Logan to know that. 

Over the following days, you could feel Logan’s eyes on you wherever you went. From the both of you standing by your classroom doors, watching the kids leave your classroom and making sure the right ones came in. 

Some students recently had a tendency to swap certain classes for others. 

Or like when you were at dinner and sat outside. From the grass below where he was coaching a game of baseball, you caught him looking at you and smiling as he turned away. 

So, when you saw him again in the empty hallway, you pushed him inside the nearest classroom. 

At least, what you thought was the nearest classroom. Turned out to be a storage room for school supplies. 

“Okay, what the hell is wrong with you?”

“I could ask you the same thing. You know, I think this is against the law, holding someone hostage inside a storage closet.”

“Every day this week, you’ve been staring at me. Why? Do I have something on my face? Or are you trying to see if you’ve suddenly developed telekinetic powers?”

Rather than replying, Logan just looked at you. Was he…studying you?

“You had another dream.”

You reeled back for a moment, trying your best not to squirm under his gaze. “Excuse me?”

Logan couldn’t help but smile. Or maybe it was a smirk. 

“You had another dream.” Logan repeated. “Was it any different, or was this just part two.”

“You’re enjoying this, aren’t you?”

Logan shrugged. “It’s not every day you learn that someone is in love with you.”

You practically laughed. “In love? With you? Oh, that’ll be the day.”

Logan practically sang what he said next. “Oh, you are so totally falling in love with me.”

“Like hell.”

“Oh,” he laughed. “She’s already prepared the wedding vows.”

“I hate you.”

“Love you, too, Sweetheart.”

However, before you could reply to Logan’s statement, you both turned and found the door wide open. 

“Rouge,” you almost yelled her name in surprise. 

“Hey. Sorry about…interrupting. I just need some…” She pointed to behind both of you where the stack of boxed pencils were kept. 

Logan reached behind him and handed her a box. “Here you go, kid.”

“Thanks. I guess I’ll just uh…” 

Closing the door on both of you, she walked away, hearing a small thud on the door behind her. 

Little did she know it was your head. 

“Be careful, she might be thinking we’re doing something else in here.”

“I hate you,” you groaned. 

“Love you, too, Sweetheart.” Logan repeated, folding his arms and smiling. 

Turning the door handle, you swung open the door and walked out of it. 

It was halfway through the next day before you saw Logan, and it wasn’t exactly what you had in mind when you thought you next saw him. 

The heating on the top floor of the school; the floor which both yourself and Logan, along with a couple of other pupils happened to sleep on, hadn’t been working for a month. 

A trustworthy company couldn’t come out to inspect it for at least that time but now that they are finally here, part of you wished they hadn’t turned up at all. 

Because, for as much as you enjoyed talking to people, one of their tradesmen…you would have happily gone your whole life without ever having spoken to them. 

From the minute he walked in the door, he had been eyeing you up like you were his next meal. He always stood too close for comfort, trying his best to leave his hot breath behind your ear whenever he spoke which only made your skin crawl and when he blatantly started flirting with you…you more than obvious distance and replies of “No,” didn’t seem to do the trick. 

“I’m married.”

“I don’t see your husband anywhere, sweet cheeks. We could always get to know each other a little better, if you catch my drift.”

Then Logan turned down the hall. 

Finally spotting him, you gave a smile of relief. 

“Logan!”

He started walking closer to you. 

“Here he is, my husband,” you took him by the arm, putting him between yourself and one of the tradesmen. “Logan.”

Logan looked at you with a slightly confused look whilst you looked both scared, panicked (for two reasons) and was forcing a smile on your face the whole time. 

Logan took a breath and turned back to the tradesman who had everything, save from the actual word written across his head in bold ink, creepy going for him. 

“Can I help you?”

The guy practically tumbled back. “No, no. Just having a conversation. I guess I’ll get back to work.”

You watched as the guy tripped over his own feet trying to scurry away from yourself and Logan, neither of you missing the way the guy told two other workmates of his that you were, in fact, married. 

“Thank you. I’m sorry I dragged you into that but- Why are you smiling?”

Logan shook his head, standing in front of you, pressing his hands behind his back and bouncing on his feet. “No reason.”

You relaxed your face. “He was being a creep. What would you have had me do?”

“Come and got me.” Logan answered honestly. “But…I was right.”

“Right about what?”

“You had written the vows.”

With your arms crossed, your eyebrows relaxed as you looked at him. “I want a divorce.”

“Ooh, do you not remember, Sweetheart? That night you burned the marriage certificate?”

You started walking away. 

“What was it that you said?”

Logan followed after you. 

“Good luck returning me without the receipt. Now, that is better than Shakespeare, don’t you think?”

“I hate you.”

“See, I don’t think you do. Considering…”

“Considering what?”

“The fact that you keep dreaming about me.”

You sighed. “I already told you, it wasn’t about you. You were just in it.”

“Oh, that’s true love if I ever did see it.”

“Don’t you have a class to teach?” You asked as you turned into the kitchen. 

“I wonder what we did this time? Frolic on the beach? Have to say though, I’m not one to frolic anymore, but I could make an exception-”

You stuffed an apple into his mouth before turning to face him. “Remind me, how does the saying go again? An apple a day keeps your wife from killing you in your sleep?”

Walking away, you headed through the back doors and outside leaving Logan to bite down on his apple, all the while smiling. 

Something that you didn’t think through however, was having to keep the rouse up. And it wasn’t long before everyone knew. At least, all of the team knew. 

“I hear congratulations are in order,” Xavier said as he entered into the living room where you were sitting on one end of the sofa, curled up with a book, whilst Logan sat diagonal to you across the table, spread out, grading papers. 

“I have to say though, I thought I’d at least get an invite.”

Logan smiled, “That makes two of us.”

You just glared from over your book before going back to reading. 

“I have to say also, you both make a very cute couple. Of course, I was betting on it taking an extra couple of months.”

“I think Y/n helped to speed things up a little.”

You continued to glare. “You’re really enjoying this, aren’t you?”

“How could you tell?”

Rolling your eyes, you went back to trying to read your book. 

“Well, I suppose I best leave you both alone. What with you two still being in the honeymoon stage and all.”

Charles chuckled to himself as he left the room, not forgetting to shut the door behind him. 

You and Logan remained in silence for a while longer. However, Logan didn’t miss your gaze. Every couple of minutes you would look up and watch him. He could feel your eyes on him, heating his skin from under all his metal. 

“You know, if you didn’t keep staring at me every five minutes, you might have finished your book.”

“What?”

“Ooh, feigning disinterest. How original.”

After a moment, Logan stood and started walking over towards you. “You know, you could just ask.”

“Ask what?”

Logan sat beside you on the sofa, facing you, leaning in a little closer. “If that’s what it would be like?”

“If…what would be like what?”

Logan’s arms fell to either side of you on the sofa, caging you in. “If that’s what it would be like for us to be in the same room as each other without fighting. I’m sure you’ve thought about me once or twice. It’s nothing to be ashamed about.”

“Am I really that transparent to you?”

Logan practically smirked as his head tilted a little and he came closer to you. “You forget I can hear your heartbeat, Sweetheart.”

Your lips parted for a moment, feeling your heart rate increase even more. 

“I think you’re forgetting something else, too.”

“What’s that?”

Logan reached for you. Or rather, behind you. 

Pulling the cord, the lamp came on. 

“You hate me.”

That night, you lay awake in bed, wishing and hoping and praying on every goddamn star in the sky that you wouldn’t dream about him again. 

That you wouldn’t dream about the way his touch warmed yours, or how he would kiss you in all the right places, willing his name from your lips. That you wouldn’t dream about his arms wrapping around you or how, in a dark bedroom alone, you would hear the shower turn off only to have him emerge in a billow of steam like some kind of Greek or Roman God, just wrapped in a towel looking at you like…that. 

 That you wouldn’t dream about him in a way that you wouldn’t let yourself acknowledge. That you wouldn’t want to outwardly and knowingly fall in love with him, and have him fall right back. 

But, of course, the wishing and the hoping and the praying didn’t work. 

Because when you next opened your eyes, you were left with the memories of a dream that included not only you teaching – like you did most days of the week – but the classroom emptying to allow both yourself and Logan some privacy where he placed his hand against your stomach and kissed you. “She’s got her daddy’s strength, all right. I feel like I’m being kicked by a horse.”

You woke up with the fading feeling of the gentle yet firm hand Logan had on your stomach, and your heart’s growth fading a little when you realised it was just a dream. 

For the fifth dream in the space of a week, you were beginning to think you were cursed. Or, at the very least, had a problem. 

However, it all changed when you woke up in a sweat. 

Finally, three days had passed and no dreams at all. Nothing to do with Logan. Not even a single thought whilst you were asleep. 

And then things grew dark. 

You had been running. For your life. All around you, stars were falling from the sky, hitting the ground and shaking it from beneath you. Each way you turned kicked dirt into your face, making it harder to breathe. Your lungs felt like they were on fire before you finally reached a set of metal doors. 

Inside, you ran around, dipping in and around different stacked crates, your head whipping around you trying to check all angles. “Where are you?” you kept asking yourself. “Please be here.” 

Then you found him. 

But you heard him first. 

A scream. 

Turning, the room turned with you until you found yourself in some kind of lab. Logan strapped to the table, and just as you stepped forward you found yourself being held back by two soldiers who had to be at least seven feet tall and six feet wide. 

No matter how you moved, you couldn’t. 

They were branding Logan. Burning him with needles and different iron poles and wires. He was screaming in pain, unable to turn his body away from it. 

“Stop! Stop! You’re hurting him! Please! Stop!”

But they couldn’t hear you. No glass was in front of you, but there might as well have been. 

“No! Logan! Please! Stop hurting! Just…Please!”

Logan now turned to look at you. And as he did, your heart broke. He wasn’t walking away from this one. Looking at you, you saw silent tears roll from his eyes and down his cheek. “I’m okay. I’ll be okay.”

“Logan…” 

Your body was becoming limp in the soldiers arms. 

“I’m sorry, Sweetheart. I’m-” With a hot iron rod to his back, he screamed out in pain trying to move away from it. 

You screamed again, willing them to stop hurting him. To hurt you instead. But they wouldn’t. It was killing you. And everyone could see that. Even Logan as he took his last look. 

You called out his name. 

And woke up, calling out his name as you threw yourself to sit up in bed. 

Around you, your entire room was cased in darkness save for the moon-light flooding in. It wasn’t much, but it was enough for you to make out the outline of your room and the things in it. 

It took you a moment to catch your breath long enough to find a clear head to know your body was moving. 

Pulling the covers from you, you made your way out of your room and down the hall before you found his room. Except, as your hand hovered over the knob, it swung open and you stepped back. Whatever breath you had caught in your room was once again gone. 

Logan stood, his eyes adjusting to the light from the hallway, shirtless. Along with the pyjama bottoms Rouge had given him in a set last Christmas. 

“Y/n…I was just coming to check on you. Are you-” 

Surprising Logan, and perhaps yourself, you hugged him. Tight. “Okay?” Logan finished his question but didn’t expect an answer. 

It took him a moment, but he quickly wrapped his arms around you. Even though he could, he didn’t need to hear your heartbeat to know you were nervous, scared and relieved all at the same time. You were still shaking and you were just starting to catch your breath again. 

“I heard you shout me…are you okay?” Logan asked in a soft voice. 

You just tightened your grip. “I thought….I thought…”

Logan shook his head. Feeling your heart bash against your rib cage and into his was enough to let him know now wasn’t the time. 

“You don’t have to explain right now. Come and lie down.”

And you did. 

Letting go of Logan for a moment, he led you inside, shutting the door behind him and lifting the covers for you to slide inside. 

He lay down next to you and held onto your hand, two fingers holding onto your wrist. 

He had more natural light in his room which allowed him to see you a little clearer in the dark as you lay and faced him. 

He pressed your hand over his heart and he spoke to you softer than he ever had before. 

“Just count my heartbeats.”

And you did. 

Logan began counting yours in his head as he held onto your wrist but soon lost count when your gaze eventually met his. 

Your heart rate eventually also began to slow. Rather than having it thunder against your chest, leaving both you and Logan wondering if some kind of Looney Tunes spell had been cast on the school which would make your heart physically leap out of your chest, it beat like normal. 

He watched as your eyes started to grow heavier before they finally closed and your breathing became even. And only once that happened, did he allow himself to relax. 

By the time you woke up, you found your own nose and forehead pressed lightly against Logan’s, your bodies naturally falling closer together as his hand held onto yours whilst his other was pressed under your neck and against your pulse point. 

Then you remembered last night. Your nightmare. Waking up in a sweat. Rushing down the hallway towards his room. Hugging him and never wanting to let go. His own heartbeat against the palm of your hand. His scent enveloping you whilst the heat from his body made you feel safe, warm and relaxed. 

“Hey,”

Softly, you brought your gaze back to Logan’s eyes. You never got to see this side of him. The fresh out of bed – in this case, in – look. 

“Hey.”

“Do you want to talk about last night?”

You swallowed lightly and shook your head. “It was nothing.”

“You had a nightmare.”

You looked away from him for a moment but felt his fingertips press into the back of your neck, begging you to look at him. 

“It wasn’t nothing. Please…talk to me.”

Your gaze flicked back and forth between his eyes, trying to get a read on him. 

He really wanted to know. 

“You died, Logan. At least…I think you did.”

And you went on to explain. About the running, the cave, the metal rods, the screaming, the shouting, the soldiers – all of it. 

Every final detail. 

“All I wanted was to get to you. To make it stop. But I couldn’t. You were screaming in pain and telling me you were going to be okay. I wanted to get you out- I needed to get you out. But every time I tried to move…”

Your voice broke, your eyes filled and Logan felt his own heart break looking at you. How he wished he could erase it. How all he wanted to do in that moment was erase away your pain. 

Logan shushed you a little before pulling his hand from yours that he had continued holding, to allow his arm to go around your back, pulling you flush against him. 

The hand that had been by your neck, pushed to the bottom of your hair line, his fingers tangling with your strands. 

With a pressed kiss to your temple, Logan shook his head. “It was just a nightmare. I’m here. You’re here. We’re both safe. Hey, hey.”

Logan pushed himself back for a moment to be able to look at you. His thumb traced under your eye, brushing the tears away before they could fall down your face. 

“At least this is how I find out, maybe you don’t hate me.”

You laughed a little at that. “You’re a jackass.”

“Maybe,” Logan shrugged. “But you’re in love with me anyway.”

With a scoff and a smile, despite how much you tried not to, you hit Logan in his chest. He chuckled softly for a moment, taking hold of your hand before you could do him any more bodily harm. 

Not that he probably even felt you hit him. He was 90% metal. It probably would bruise you if you actually hit him. 

But when Logan took your hand, things seemed to slow down. 

With his gaze on you, his fingers started tracing your hand. His thumb working its way from your wrist to your palm, all the while his fingers traced up and curled around your own before your hand was flush against his, your fingers only a movement away from falling and intertwining against his. 

And they did. 

Logan took a minute to look at where your hands joined and any control he had over his heartbeat disappeared into an oblivion. 

He looked back at you. 

His fingers locked with yours and you felt your body shift closer towards him. Not fully aware of his own body, Logan had leaned up a little further from his pillow and leaning in closer towards you. 

You were both hesitant, at first. Unsure of what was happening, but fully aware that it was. 

The kiss was soft. Unfamiliar. Neither of you had expected this to happen when you had woken up. In all honesty, neither of you had expected it to ever happen. 

Well, maybe your subconscious. 

But that was a debate for another time. 

However, as it came to an end, reality stuck Logan. He had kissed you. You had come to him because you had a nightmare. You had stayed by his side, in his room, for the rest of the night. And now he had kissed you. 

You were right. 

He was a jackass. 

“I…I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have-”

You shook your head and furrowed your eyebrows. Your own internal monologue was having a whale of a time confusing you. Convincing you that the kiss didn’t happen. Then that was always meant to happen. That maybe…maybe it was always meant to feel like that. Or maybe it was never meant to feel like that. 

“Logan…”

For a brief moment, Logan looked confused. Were you going to yell at him? Curse him? 

No. 

Instead, you untangled your hand from his and Logan felt his heart sink. Then stop. 

That same hand slowly, hesitantly, reached for his cheek and you…

Kissed him. 

Again. 

This time, it was more searching and more familiar. More trusted. 

His hand now free, Logan pressed his hand to your own face, drawing you in closer whilst his arm curved around you and he allowed his hand to slip over your shoulder, down you back, towards your hip and up, inside the back of your t-shirt. 

His touch was warming to you. 

Your own hands traced down the side of his neck and up the side of his arm before meeting at the back, your nails scratching at the base of his hairline and neck. 

Finally having moved you onto your back, Logan leaned over you, his weight shifting onto you a little. 

Bringing his hands down to your hips, Logan lifted you a little further up the bed and you let out a small squeal. 

And he smirked. 

“Jackass.”

“You love it.”

Logan caught your smile against his own and pressed further into you, his legs slowly tangling with yours before he found his place locked between them. 

Pushing the hair from your face with his hand, Logan and yourself continued searching each other. Pressing against the boundaries that had been your last partnership together. 

Maybe it would take a short while to find your footing with each other. And maybe it would take even longer before you finally told Logan the truth about your first dream. 

And maybe, when you finally did, he spent the entire night helping you recreate it. Proving that the reality was better and so much more than your dream. 

[millersfinest]

untethered² | e.w

00s!ellie williams & 00s!miller!reader

wc: 8.2 k

series: chapter one, chapter two (you’re here!), chapter three, chapter four, chapter five

blurb: it’s been awhile since you’ve been back home; in upstate new york where you’ve spent most of your life waking up early and tending to the animals that moo’d and meh’d. after graduation high school, and then college, the city life has stolen most of your attention. enabling you to visit only a handful of times through the years. when your lovely adoptive parents (tommy and maria miller) invite you back for a thanksgiving dinner—a troubled old flame from your childhood manages to get your attention, despite its explosive ending.

cw: lmao flip phones, r and ellie flirting/teasing each other, some vulgar language, ellie cheating on her gf, the millers, r is a writer, horndog ellie, elements of longing, ellie is #1 lesbian yearner in the world, some early 2000s references, thanksgiving, r is very jealous of cat, hella angst, rich!abby (one of r’s evil exes), emotional cheating (from ellie), repressed emotions, a little bit of mature content, eventual smut, some corny time period song drops.

note: okay, i tried to fit a lot of stuff into this but it was getting too long wink wink. i’ve introduced rich!abby, she’s literally a generational surgeon purr. when i was writing this i was listening to some early 00s music and burn from usher came on… that’s ellie’s anthem ya’ll (for cat) lmaooo. i may not post another chapter before the new year, soo happy early new years to my moots, readers and followers (pookies) <3

After spending an extra hour, or so, with Ellie in the kitchen—laughing under your hands, stuffing bread into your mouths; you set an alarm for 6am. The same time clock that sat on your bedside table from your youth. Surprisingly, it still worked—waking you up with that same traumatic sound it used to for school.

You efficiently got ready; as in, you put on hearty jeans, cowboy boots, and a throw-away sweater because you had an obligation to fill on the farm. Every time you came back home, it was habitual for you to resume the responsibilities you used to have when the farm was your primary residence.

Around 6:45, you met your parents downstairs to begin prepping and planning who was going to go where. There was usually only three of you, but as you hovered over the black coffee on the counter—in your favorite antique mug—the screen door pulled open to reveal a sleepy-looking Ellie Williams-Miller.

She had a thick, black headband pushing her hair back from her forehead, and a low bun. The whites of her eyes were a little irritated and low-hanging, like she was exhausted. “Mornin’, Ellie.” Tommy spoke, rasping slightly. You and Maria parroted him—you standing up straight, instead of leaning over the counter.

Ellie settled across from you, crossing her arms tightly over her chest as a comfort. She rarely ever knew where to put her hands. “Didn’t think you’d jump in so quick.” You commented, wrapping your hands around the warm coffee in your hands.

“The sooner the better.” She shrugged, a soft smile playing on her lips. “Is there any coffee left?”

Before your mother could leap to helping her out, you set down your mug. “‘Course there is. Hazelnut or Vanilla creamer?” You walk over to the pot, not forgetting to pull down a mug from the cabinet. It was offhanded, unintentional—but the ceramic mug you grabbed happened to be hers from the past. An off-white color with her initial on the front in maroon. Ellie used to come over so much, she had her own mug.

She was the first to notice, a blush blossoming on her freckled cheeks. “Hazelnut…”

Pouring the hot coffee a quarter of the way, you added the creamer and dropped a spoon inside to mix it. Ellie wasn’t the biggest fan of coffee, so it was more creamer than coffee. Behind you, your parents began explaining and refreshing the jobs they usually do in the morning. They plan to handle the cows, goats and shipments; while you and Ellie can handle the chickens, horses and garden. “Now, Bug, she’s gonna be taking over your job— so, instruct her well, please.”

“You got it, dude.” You curtly nodded, after making a cheesy Full House joke, sporting a thumbs up. The only person to chortle was Ellie, while her lips were still parted over the side of her mug.

Tommy and Maria put their hands in the middle, slapping on top of each other. “Lets break out—“

“Come on, dad, do we have to?” It was so natural for you to complain at his antics, calling him dad, that you didn’t realize who you were doing it in front of company until much later.

When you were a teenager, every morning your broke out like a team—because, basically, that’s what you were. Splitting to conquer more ground; it took teamwork. “Honey, we always break out.”

Ellie set her cup down, amused. “Don’t be such a negative Nancy, y/n.” She put her hand on top of theirs, raising her thick eyebrows. “Come on, break out.”

Rolling your eyes, you place your hand over her’s. “We’re the Miller’s on three.” You dragged, shaking your head. They all grinned around you like hyenas, and it amusingly pissed you off. One. Two. Three.

“We’re the Miller’s!” They exclaimed, along with yourself. Unable to remove the mirroring grin from your lips.

“All right, team. Let’s get to work.” Tommy asserted with a smile, drinking the rest of his coffee.

The four of you dispersed on the back porch. You scribbling on notebook paper to keep track of your duties. Ellie leaned her back against the railing, crossing her arms, with her eyes trained on your focused expression. “Okay… We’re starting off with the chicken’s— do you remember how?” You glance up, raising an eyebrow.

“Ehm,” She clears her throat, pushing off the railing. “Uhm, yeah, totally. We get the food, right? The pellets?”

“Yeah, and…” You put a hand on your hip, a teasing smirk on your lips.

She chews on her lip, averting her eyes. “Scoop it into troughs?” Ellie questioned, slowly, knowing she was incorrect. The young woman just wanted you to correct her.

“I’m afraid you’ve gotten yourself a bit mixed up, Els.” The nickname slipped from your lips sweetly, but unpredicted. You were both shocked and did a bad job of hiding it. Your lips opening and closing like a gaping fish; Ellie licking her lips, still rocking on her feet. But to be fair, you were friends before everything—it shouldn’t have been weird. “Sorry…”

“Why are you sorry? It’s my name…” Ellie shrugged.

“Let’s just get to the chicken coop.” You chuckle, hiding the nervousness by trotting off the porch. Her name was Ellie, not Els—people who were close to her called her that, and they weren’t close anymore. It was just an example of muscle memory, really.

Ellie tapped her hand against the wooden post, following in your footsteps. “Feels good to be back…” She mutters, walking with her hands behind her back.

“You’re always welcome here.” You respond, approaching the shed that held the chickens food and such. Your fingers worked at the metal latch, pushing open the door. It creaking loudly from the rusted hinges. “Help me fill the buckets?”

She nodded with tight lips, crouching down where you were in front of a large bag filled with their food. You dug for the scoop, frowning at the smell. Ellie had grabbed a bright orange bucket, placing it beside you. Her eyes watching you, intently. Taking in all of your movements while scooping the pellets into the bucket.

Feeling her eyes on you, it was easy to start conversation—transition from that pier of tension. “You looked pretty tired… I hope that wasn’t my fault.”

Ellie hummed, switching an empty bucket with the one you just filled, putting it to the side. “Oh, no, of course not. I had an idea for a sketch… So, stayed up and worked on that.”

You grinned, peering at her. “Hey, the farm’s already workin’, huh?”

“Yeah, I guess so.” She chortled, averting her eyes.

Now, that was a clean cut lie. Ellie was a very smart girl—quick on her feet; she always has been. As she stood in that woody kitchen, munching on microwaved biscuits and giggling with her childhood ex-girlfriend… She had realized a fundamental truth. Or, more so, she was considering it. Perhaps, it wasn’t the farm she needed to sponsor her creativity.

It was you. In all of your self-made, manufactured glory. All it took was a glance for her to blossom with ideas—you were her muse.

That’s why she was up all night. She had propped herself on a stool, while her girlfriend slept, and began sketching where the both of you stood—by the shed. Ellie had drawn, scribbled, and shaded until the charcoal pencil fell from her fingers. Forcing her to rest, and by that time it was four in the morning.

Not without covering her work with a sheet, though. Your features were etched onto the canvas, that was too precious and vulnerable. Intimate. Telling.

Pulling her from her obsessive thoughts, you spoke. “Ellie, the bucket.” You bunched your eyebrows, with a tone insinuating that you’ve asked her more than once.

“Shit, my bad.” She stood up, picking one of them up by the metal handle. When she lifted it, she realized that she should consider weight lifting as a hobby—it was heavy. But, you held it in your hands as if it weighed no more than ten pounds. Ellie wasn’t right; the traits of a country girl never left you.

You began to walk out of the shed, toward the chicken coop, which was only a few steps away. “You know, I can let you off the hook if you wanna go take a nap, or something. We have, like, five more days for me to show you the ropes.”

“Really, it’s fine. You know I get a little spacey sometimes.”

“Yeah, when there’s a lot on your mind.” You pointed out, arriving at the coop. Opening the gate, you walk to another, slightly shorter gate to release the chickens. “Your breakfast has arrived!”

You set the bucket on the ground, Ellie doing the same, and you began to scoop out the pellets onto the dirt. They clucked and hopped around, pecking at the small pieces of food littered around. “Is there a lot on your mind?”

She hesitated to answer, dumping the rest of the pellets onto the ground. “Little bit…”

“Well, let this be a release from whatever you’re thinkin’ about. Not a distraction, but a release— it’ll keep you focused.”

Instead of pressing for what was on her mind, you responded with more thoughtful words. The fact that the both of you allowed your closeness to disintegrate or untether; you didn’t have much of a place to inquire. Asking too many questions could lead to fighting—if she were anything how she used to be. And you didn’t want to pry, even though a part of you assumed her exhaustion had something to do with Cat.

Ellie hummed once more, with her hands on her hips, watching you scratch their little heads. “Horses are next, right?” She questioned, blinking at you as if she were in a daze.

You chortle. “Yep. Excited to see Shimmer and Tokyo, huh?” A grin spread across your lips as you approached the gate. You paused, gasping, before you turned back to the auburn-haired woman. “Fuck, I have a surprise for you— almost forgot!” Rushing to grab her hand, you pull her out of the chicken coop. Keeping a firm grip on her palm; Ellie’s lightly holding yours as you pulled her toward the horse barn, glancing at her hand being embraced. It was a little ways so, despite the cool, morning air, sweat beaded between your palms.

But, since she was so enamored by your excited spirit, she held on.

When you arrived, that’s when you released her hand, unlocking the latch. Before your opened the door, you turned toward her faux lax expression. “Shimmer is, now, a mother…” You began, pushing open the door. Ellie gasped, grinning wide like a child before an arcade. “To a beautiful foal Tommy named Sarah.” You introduced coming up on their division.

“Holy shit,” She cursed, still grinning ear to ear. Her white teeth sparkling against the rays of the morning sun that peaked through the wooden panels in the barn. Shimmer peaked her head over the gate once she saw Ellie—like she never forgot about her. Nobody had. “Congrats, Shimmer.” She ran her hand along her strong jaw; the horse nuzzling into her touch.

Her olive eyes peered down, noticing the much smaller foal. Her coat was the same color as her mothers, but her hair had a blonder touch. “Can I?” She looked over at you.

“You don’t have to ask— she’s your horse, too.” You waved your hand. “I’ll go ahead and grab their food.” Leaving them alone, you hear Ellie marveling at Sarah. Causing a chuckle to leave your lips. You pet the other horses—Tokyo, Hamlet, and Ophelia—on the way to the other end of the barn.

Packing the buckets with differing pellets and chaffs, you filled their troughs and opened up their gates. Saving Shimmer and Sarah for last.

You walked over, leaning against the open gate. Sarah had nestled between Ellie’s crossed legs as she sat in the hay. Leaning into her gentle caresses. “I’m assuming she’s named after Joel’s daughter?” She asked, looking up at you from the ground.

“You assumed right.” You nodded, pressing your lips into a line.

“Does Joel know?”

“Not yet. It was a surprise for both of you.” You told, taking the liberty to join her on the ground. “I’m sure Tommy’ll say somethin’ by the end of the day.” Your fingers nestle through her course blonde hair. She was only about a week old, and the softness of her hair was already leaving. A sigh falls from your lips, glancing up at your old friend. Her eyes were already trained on your features, intently. Like she was trying to remember the intricacies of your face. “You think he’ll like it? Naming Shimmer’s baby after her?”

Ellie blinked, running her tongue over hr lips. “Uh, yeah— I think he’ll love it.” She chuckled, boyishly. The side of her lips curling up, as her eyes cast back toward the happy foal. “He’d probably want pictures of her everyday…”

“I’m sure you wouldn’t mind taking the pictures…”

���I sure as hell wouldn’t.” She affirmed. “If I didn’t, he’d blow up my cell.”

You laughed, backing up against the wall, leaning your head back as you peered at her. “He would wouldn’t he?”

A pair of footsteps caught your attention, and for a moment you thought it was your parents. You prepared to get up, but a new face came around the corner. Her brown eyes were sleepy, and she still was dressed in her pajamas. Hay clinging to the hem of her plaid pajama pants. “I was told that I’d find you here…” She spoke, mostly to the auburn-haired woman beside you.

“Mornin’,” You smiled, awkwardly. Standing up from where you sat. Cat smiled at you, but her eyes quickly moved back to Ellie.

“Ellie, can we talk?” She softly asked, fiddling with her fingers.

From the ground, she sighed, unmoving. “I’m kind of busy… Can it wait?” Ellie lifted her eyebrows, squinting at her girlfriend because of the sun’s rays. Her olive eyes practically glowing as the sun reflected through them.

“No. It can’t wait.”

“I can step out…” You offered, placing a hand on Shimmer. “She’s missing out on some grazing time, anyway.”

“No, it’s fine.” “Thanks,” Both Ellie and Cat spoke, causing you to pause in your steps. You bunched your eyebrows at Ellie, making an expression that read: talk to her! Ignoring the pleas of her beautiful features, you pulled Shimmer from her space. Leaving the two to talk.

It was always about saving face for you—you didn’t want to give the wrong impression to Cat. It was obvious that she knew about your past; you hoped that she did. Maybe, in a possessive way—in a way of I know her more than you. Or, in a way of context. That was something you were still trying to figure out.

Either way, your feelings for Ellie was private; something you were battling, as if it were a disease. Because it was wrong to hold onto a fragment of a memory—loving someone who was taken. It was childish. Letting them talk was putting a leash on yourself. There was nothing like some good ol’ fashioned self control.

While you contemplated, watching the horses meander around, getting their fresh air—conversation happened in the barn. Around the innocent, nuzzling foal, Sarah. “I just wanted to let you know… That I’m not mad at you.” Cat spoke, genuinely, leaning against the wooden gate. Her voice was firm and far from soft. “You know how I can get easily overwhelmed—“

“Cat, overwhelmed? You got pissed with me because I was asking her questions. That’s it.” Ellie retorted, narrowing her eyes. “I haven’t seen or spoken to her in fucking years. Do you expect me not to be interested in what she’s doing?”

“Okay, Ellie. My fucking bad!” She slapped her hands against her legs. “My bad for considering your history with each other— I’m being a jealous bitch. There. I said it for you.” Her arms crossed over her chest. “Can we just stop acting weird? I don’t wanna fight. Not here.”

Ellie allowed Sarah to stand, walking from her space to where her mother was. Around the corner, entertaining you, although your peeving ear was open to their conversation. Even though, you couldn’t hear much.

She stood up, dusting herself off. “I’d never call you a jealous bitch…” Ellie muttered, approaching her, settling her hands on her jaw. “You have nothing to worry about, kitty Cat.” She spoke like a wish, leaning into the place a chaste kiss on her lips. Cat had shut her eyes, not noticing the glance Ellie made out the open barn doors at you—the back of you. Just before her lips met hers. She tried to keep Ellie, moving her lips against hers, but she pulled away, swiftly. “I have to get back to work, all right. No hard feelings?”

She sighed, pouting. “None at all… See you later?” Cat wondered, letting her hands drift down to her belted hips.

“See you later.” She smiled, pulling away from her.

Cat left the barn, waving at you on her way out. “See you, y/n!” She waved, wiggling her fingers. Her voice was sweet, but for some reason you didn’t like how smooth your name came from her mouth. But, regardless, you smiled back.

Ellie emerged from the barn with her hands in her pockets. She stopped where you were, watching the horses—mainly Sarah. “How’d it go?” You asked, crossing your arms over your chest.

“You remember Dina and Jesse, right?” She changed the subject.

You scrunched your eyebrows at the random question, peering over at her. “Uh, yeah. Why wouldn’t I?”

“They’re going to a bar later… The Tipsy Bison, If you wanna—“

“Oh, I don’t know.” You interrupt, shaking your head. Chewing on your bottom lip, keeping your eyes trained on the trotting horses. The moment the relationship between you and Ellie was severed; that severed whatever bond you had with them. Jesse tried to stay in contact passively—when MySpace came out, he friended you. However, Dina was nowhere to be found. She must’ve hated your guts, right?

“What? You don’t drink either?” She chuckled, covering her nervousness.

Pressing your lips together, you narrowed your eyes at her. “It’s been too long…” You shook your head. “I don’t know…”

“Come on,” She drawled, like a youthful plea.

“This is peer pressuring. Did we not learn about this is school?” Your feet carried you away from the horses, toward the garden. She followed after you with a sickening grin.

You pulled out your checklist, checking off the box by chickens and horses—clicking your pen with a smirk on your face. “Peer pressure… Shmeer Shressher.” Ellie rolled her eyes.

“Ellie, I don’t know. I might have something to write for my editor— let me think about it.” You made up an excuse on the spot, but it wouldn’t be a surprise if you opened up your email to see several messages from Isa Raymond.

“Don’t tell me you’re a workaholic, too?”

“I’m not.”

“Kind of seems like it.” Ellie shrugged.

You hit her arm with the back of your hand. “Whatever, Ellie. Think what you want.” The both of you arrive at the greenhouse. It smells of fresh soil and misty air—fairly comforting. When you were younger, it was the second best part of the farm for you. The horse barn being the first, of course. “This part is the simplest; just make sure all the veggies and plants are watered accordingly.”

You pick up a gallon half-full tin watering can, handing it to her. She took it from you with both hands, fingers grazing, lightly. “Oh, shit— I wasn’t paying attention with the horses. What do you feed ‘em?” Ellis began to stroll down the aisles, watering the soil.

“No worries, it seemed important.” You shrugged, mentioning the conversation between her and Cat. “I’ll just show you on the way back. It’s pretty simple— woah, not too much!” You place a hand on her wrist. She was pouring too much water into one of the potted plants. Her eyes locked onto yours, opened wide. “Sorry, I should’ve said this before… The potted plants need less water than the veggies.” She kept looking at you, the ends of her lips curling. “Carry on,” You urged, walking past her—in front of her, holding your own hands in front of you.

She couldn’t help but watch you go—hell, that’s all she’s been doing since she saw you. Watching. There was nothing wrong with that. Even if her eyes drifted to the way your hips were hugged in the jeans your wore. The sliver of skin that exposed when you bent down, or crouched, or even swayed your hips.

“So…” Ellie began, heading to your word and carefully watering. “Are you seeing anyone in Manhattan?” She asked, shamelessly with a perked eyebrow.

You pivoted, leaning your back against one of the aisles of vegetation. “Off and on…” Shrugging, you surprised yourself with how quickly you responded. “Dating in New York is like setting yourself on fire… And I don’t like getting burned.” You pursed your lips, flickering your eyes from her and the tomato’s. “Why? Is there someone you’d wanna set me up with—? I could use the help.” You joke, beginning to fiddle with the waxy leaves.

She snickered, approaching you with the tin watering can. Pouring nutrient liquid onto the carrot sprouts. “Dina, maybe?”

“Awe, you’re so funny.” You clap your hands together, sarcastically, leaning your chin on your hand.

“If you come out tonight, you can see just how funny I am.” She set the can down.

“I don’t have to go to a bar to see how funny you are. I’m laughing right now, aren’t I?” You mock a fake laugh, pointing at your mouth. Ha Ha. Ha Ha.

Wrapping your hands around the handle of the watering can, you pulled it from her to take over her job. “Just come, y/n! Wouldn’t it be nice to get the gang back together?”

A scoff fell from your lips. “It’s been a while since the gang was together, Ellie.” Occupying your attention with plants you watering. You fought to fight the frown attempting to grow on your lips, pressing them together and turning your body enough for her not to notice.

Ellie dragged her feet, following you. “It’s been eight years…”

Sighing, you slightly slam the can down, not enough to make a fuss but enough to signal your irritation. “Have you forgotten about what happened eight years ago?” You questioned, sternly.

She paused, inhaling, sharply. Ellie scratched her jaw, nodding her head. “Nope.” While she was taken aback by your sudden sternness; there was something that excited her about that pinched look on your face. The auburn-haired young woman has grown a lot since her youth.

“Okay, then.” You pouted. “Let’s just wrap this up, so we can reconvene with my parents— make sure all this stuff is done.”

And that’s exactly what the both of you did. The jokes and silly conversation ceased, and you basically finished in awkward silence. On the way back to the house, you showed her which foods to give to which horse, clinically. That playful look on your face was replaced with the one that exposed your unnerved feeling—from the horrifying mention of what happened eight years ago.

At the front porch, the pair of you separated. She waved a fiddly hand, peering over her shoulder as she walked back to the guesthouse. With a pair of shoulders that were slumped lower than they were from the morning.

Ellie didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable—she should’ve never pushed you to hang out with her later. Perhaps, she got too comfortable too fast; but that’s just the type of person you were. Easily acclimatizing. It didn’t matter how much space could be between you and another person—you always found a way with making them feel at home. However, when you pull back, it’s a cold feeling. She just wanted to look at you some more, talk to you some more; be around you some more. Ellie couldn’t deny how refreshing it was.

You met with your parents assuring them that everything was done. They asked about Ellie, but you said she took all the information fine. She’ll probably just need a few days to really lock it in—but, you couldn’t stay long to chat. It was about nine in the morning, and you had to check your email and cell for messages.

First, you showered to get the smell of animal off of you. As much as you loved them, the stench was awful and you’d rather die than let it get stuck to the comforter of your bed. Then, you hopped onto your reading nook, and began going through your emails.

Scroll, scroll, Isa Raymond. Scroll, scroll, Frank St. James… Frank St. James—that was your editor! “Fuck,” You swore under your breath, clicking the bolded words, your heart grew nervous. What if he didn’t like it? You always took criticism much harder when writing the essay’s for your book because everything comes from your experience—your spirit.

Your eyes panned over the words, seeing nothing but: phenomenal, and powerful, and effective, and most importantly, this will be the perfect addition to your bigger work. “Fuck, yeah!” You shouted, pumping your fist in the air.

A head peaked through your door, dark brown hair crowded with grays, and aged brown eyes. “Are we celebrating somethin’?”

Looking up, you smile at Joel, pushing your laptop to the side. “Yeah, actually. One of my chapters got approved by my editor.” You sighed, happily.

“Looks like that book really is comin’ along…” Joel hummed, sporting a proud look on his face. “Good thing Ellie and I made some breakfast— hot and ready! Do your parents have any champagne, so we can celebrate with some mimosa’s?”

Standing to your feet, you waved a hand. “It’s not that serious, Joel.” You chuckle, letting your hands rest on your hips.

“You think mimosa’s are serious? Whew, you need to come back home more often.” He joked, leaning on the threshold of your door.

Rolling your eyes, playfully, a chuckle leaves your throat. He was always so supportive. For a moment you though you lost the opportunity to see that side of him a long time ago. “There might be some in the fridge… And some cranberry juice.” He nodded, pumping his fist—him and Ellie were so much alike. “Give me, like, five minutes and I’ll be down. I have to respond to some messages.”

“Of course, workin’ girl. But don’t let your mimosa get warm… Or your food get cold— we worked hard on it.”

“I won’t.” You smiled, watching him leave your door. Quickly, you pulled out your cell, checking your messages. Some complaining messages from Sierra, Isa Raymond complimenting you—which she didn’t do often—and, a message from a past love interest, Abby Anderson.

Abs: I’m gonna be in your hometown for a few days, seeing some friends. We’re going to a bar later, you should come!

You hesitate to respond, but you do.

You: Oh, nice! Which bar?

There weren’t many bars where you came from, it was fairly small. But, you were getting an inkling that it was the same bar Ellie had invited you to—the Tipsy Bison.

Abs: Tipsy Bison, I believe.

You: I’m totally in. Could definitely use a drink right now.

Abs: Want me to come by and pick you up? I drove the Jaguar ;)

You: As tempting as that sounds, I already have a ride. See you then, Abby.

You slapped your phone shut to meander downstairs to the breakfast that awaited you. On a hot plate, made by Joel and Ellie themselves—which, typically, was delicious. They were both wonderful cooks.

Stepping down the stairs, you heard a sound come from your silver cell. You flipped it open with a sigh, seeing Abs highlighted by a green line.

Abs: Oh, damn… Abby. We’re not on nickname basis anymore?

You pursed your lips, shaking your head as you reached the bottom step.

You: Be normal about this, because I could’ve said no.

Shutting your phone, you slid them into the pocket of your pajama shorts. To purposefully ignore the rest of her texts until later. Everyone was still building their plates, walking to the dining table—including Cat, dressed in jeans and band t-shirt. Muse. “Joel, where’s the mimosa’s?” You arrived in the kitchen; Tommy hand you a ceramic plate was already plated with food.

“Sorry, kiddo.”

“Bug, the champagne in there has lost its bubbles— there’s no point.” He then grinned. “But that doesn’t mean we’re not gonna congratulate you for the chapter approval!” Your father clapped his hands, causing the others to join in—Maria, Joel, Cat, and Ellie.

You kiss his cheek. “Thanks, dad.” A blush frosts over your cheeks—face heating up like a furnace. “I hope we can get some by tomorrow. Thanksgiving is in two days.”

“I’m actually running downtown for a work thing…” Cat began, setting her plate at the dining table, preparing to sit. “I could grab some on the way back.”

“That’ll be perfect, Cat!” Maria exclaimed, smiling, brightly.

Why the fuck was she so nice? You almost wanted to mock your mother—even though they all just celebrated you a moment ago. Of course she’d offer to get the champagne. “Thanks, Cat.” You gave a toothless smile. A smile that plastered and could easily be noticed as fake by those around you. When you heard a snicker come from Ellie’s mouth, you knew that she noticed.

You shot her a glare, but that only made her lips spread into a wider smile. Toothy. Trying. As she settled into her chair, fork in hand.

Conversation over breakfast was light, and lovely. Slight jokes were made about Ellie’s farming skills, but nothing too much. You interacted with each other by mainly through looks and offhanded comments—enough for your mom to take notice. Nudging you under the table with her leg, but you gave her no mind.

After breakfast, you offered to clean up. And, of course, so did Ellie. You argued for a bit on who was going to wash the dishes, and who was going to dry them—settling on you washing and her drying. Cat took a taxi to wherever she needed to go, kissing the auburn-haired woman on the way out. Maria, Tommy and Joel settling in the living room, which was separated from the kitchen by a wall, catching up on sports. Your mother was oddly into that kind of stuff. Leaving you and Ellie all to yourselves, once more.

“Thanks, Cat. You’re so full of it.”

You handed her a wet, clean dish, rolling your eyes. “You have no idea what I’m full of.” A scoff falls from your lips, slightly curling at the ends. It’s not like you were upset, you were amused—you found her amusing. There was time between the scuffle from earlier and now; plus, you had a bit of a distraction for later.

You lathered the plate, running it under the hot water to rinse it off. “Your poker face is the absolute worst. Some things just never change— be okay with that.”

“Yeah, you’re right. Some things never change. You’re still so fucking annoying.”

“And, I remember you also saying… Corny?”

You drop your hands in the sink, running your tongue over your bottom lip. Frankly, you missed this so bad. Meeting her eyes was like the tide rising on a beach—it always happened in way that was intertwining and overcoming. This was how Ellie Williams flirted; she was incredibly insufferable! Her voice dropped an octave, becoming a bit raspier than it already was. You were familiar because, well, she used to be yours. And, like she said, some things never change.

The only way you could respond was by peering at her. Inspecting her. Handing over the wet dish without sparing a glance at the ceramic plate. You watched as she primed her lips to speak. “All jokes aside…” She began, wiping down the plate with a turquoise towel. “I wanna apologize for the pressure earlier— coming out with me.” Finishing up, she set the dishes on the rack, leaning her lower back against the counter. Her arms crossed over her chest, the tattoo on her forearm coming into view—something you didn’t fully notice before. “I totally get the hesitation. Dina can be a… Handful at times.”

“About that…” You dried your hands, wiping the water off the counter. “I’ve actually decided to go. I could use some hometown socializing— and Jesse’s still pretty sweet.”

Her earthy eyes sized you up, squinting her eyes. “Oh, is that who you want me to set you up with?”

“Seriously, Ellie, keep your day job.” You rolled your eyes, fixing everything around the kitchen so it could look clean. “We kind of keep in touch on MySpace.”

She gasped, deepening her eyebrows. “MySpace! I don’t even have you on MySpace—! I’m friends with Jesse, I would’ve seen this.”

“Well, my username isn’t quite my name… It’s BugsWritersRoom, and my icon is a picture of a latte— I can understand the confusion.” You shrug, nonchalantly.

Ellie subtly clenched her jaw at the idea of Jesse keeping something like this from her. It was fucked up to keep her from BugsWritersRoom—Ellie needed to be in on that. Whether she was going to friend you or not. “I’m about to start writing a bit… What’s you username, so I can stalk ‘ya?” The tone of your voice insinuated that it was a joke, but you weren’t joking at all. However, it wasn’t that you couldn’t find her before; you just didn’t want to. Twenty-four hours ago you were keen on keeping your distance—that also meant watching her online.

But, since the rekindling of this stomped out fire, you might as well catch up. And she was planning to do the same.

“StarlighterWilliams…” She muttered, cheeks flushing in embarrassment. You couldn’t help but wonder how she could shape shift from a semi-confident joker, to a bashful blusher within a few minutes—Ellie was one of a kind, certainly.

You hummed, lips curling at the sides. “Still a Savage Starlight fan, huh?”

“Yup.”

“At least all those comics and merch I bought for you didn’t go to waste.” You glance at the tall grandfather clock against the wall, huffing. Before you went out tonight, you wanted to get some words out of your head—there was plenty of time, as it was only nearing one in the afternoon. But you wanted some alone time, too.

She wanted to respond with how she’d never toss the items you bought for her—something cheesy like that—but, you spoke before her. “I guess the next time I’ll see you, I won’t be in old-as-shit pajamas. What are you thinkin’—? 9:30?”

“Yeah, 9:30s fine…” Her eyes ran over your frame. The tight strappy top that clung to your adult figure, and the loose satin shorts that hung low on your hips. A water stain had grown on the middle of your stomach from washing the dishes, and because the shirt was white your skin peeked through. If only it was a little higher—

“Cool. See you later.” You walked around the island, toward your parents and Joel. “If you guys need anything, I’ll be upstairs working. Just call me.” Ellie watched as you bent down to kiss their temples, including Joel from an old habit. She watched you laugh if off, but your pace quickened toward the stairs. Your eyes flickered to hers, a causal finger pointing in her direction. “That goes for you, too.” You winked.

It was like everything was in slow motion as she watched you. Especially, that fucking wink! Yeah, Ellie understood that wink was probably for weed—it couldn’t have been anything else. “I’m getting myself into some deep trouble.” She spoke under her breath, hanging her head low.

“Hey, guys!” She spoke to the three Miller’s on the couch, stalking toward the front. “I’ll be at the guesthouse.” She waved a few fingers, with her mind occupied completely elsewhere. In the gutter, as many called it.

Joel turned around, leaning his arm against the back of the couch. “You don’t wanna see the bets for the thanksgiving game?”

Ellie didn’t even pause at the door, she responded while walking through. “Absolutely the fuck not. You kids have fun, though!”

She basically ran to the guesthouse, leaning her back against the door once she was inside. In short, she was horny. Oh, so horny—Ellie was without a muse in many different parts of her life currently. And, don’t get her wrong; her girlfriend was smoking hot, but she wasn’t you! She couldn’t be happier that Cat was out of the house. So, she could lay her back against the bed they shared, with her pants off and her hand between her legs. Mind trailing with images of you.

Meanwhile, you sat crisscrossed on your made-up bed, searching for Ellie. StarlightWilliams, she said. You clicked and scrolled until you saw her user icon. It was a picture of her playing guitar. Her short side-bangs covered her face, arms draped over the guitar she’s had for years. At least, it looked like that one that you were familiar with. The one you carved your initials into the back when you were sixteen. Somebody had taken the picture, and you hoped to God it wasn’t Cat. That was your first thought.

You were beginning to make peace with the fact that you were an asshole. Your parents raised an asshole who’s jealousy raged in a passive manner.

With hesitation, you clicked the her name. Her account popped up and was coded to absolute hell. Did she do all of this herself? The side panels had a bunch of Savage Starlight png’s floating around. And, there was a silly picture in her bio of Kenny from South Park—of course, she liked South Park.

Her mood was recently updated: Conflicted.

Her bio was very concise: i’m ellie :3. Which is then preceded by a couple music videos: Hella Good by No Doubt and Somewhere Only We Know by Keane.

You found yourself smiling as you scrolled down her profile, causing you to click the friend button without a second thought. Skipping over the photos of her and Cat, which wasn’t that hard to do—considering there wasn’t many. There were photos of Ellie cuddled between Jesse and Dina, looking happier than ever. Some mirror photos taken with a camera in her bathroom. Her hair mussed and choppily cut, but nonetheless, she looked good. Small nerdy shirts and low-hanging jeans, accessorized with studded belts and carabiners.

Hot.

Breaking you from what felt like a spell, your roommate began ringing your cell. She caused you to shut your laptop, and roll all over your bed talking to her. You paced around your room, playing with little knickknacks, glancing out your window to see the view of the guesthouse.

Sierra demanded to know the details about being around your teenagehood ex-girlfriend, and you told her enough. Not the intrusive thoughts about being a homewrecker, but how easily they got along. How the past had only come up once, but not in the way you thought it would. You bickered and joked and teased like nothing happened.

Now, your roommate back in Manhattan, laughed at that. She claimed that she had psychic tendencies, saying: you guys are gonna fuck nasty! You refused, feigning sounds of disgust. That wasn’t the case—that could never be the case. To change the subject, you mentioned Abby being in town, and she grimaced on the other line.

It was girl talk like no other.

After the call, you decided to quit daydreaming over Ellie’s MySpace account and actually start writing.

The next chapter you were working on was following moments after the breakup—the sorry attempts at moving on, college, moving from home.

You spent hours outlining and rough drafting, cursing at yourself because nothing was coming out right. Sooner or later, eight o’clock came around—meaning it was time for you to get ready.

Sifting through your luggage, you threw clothes over your shoulder trying to piece together an outfit. You wanted to look good, but you didn’t want to appear like you were trying too hard. Abby was gonna be there, so you couldn’t slack. And, Ellie hasn’t seen you in anything other than comfortable clothes since you reconnected.

Jeans were your safety, and a black jean vest you were going to put over a white v-neck—not forgetting the leather jacket to cover your arms and a pair of boot heels to give you some height.

You were ready by 9:15, adding perfume to the pressure points on your body. Dressing your lips in a sparkling lipgloss that complimented your skin. With a baggy purse on your shoulder, you clicked your finger on the buttons in your phone, descending the staircase.

Abs: Always so feisty, babe. See you later.

Seeing her message from earlier, you puff a frustrated breath from your lips. Babe. God, that woman needed to pipe it down—it’s like she knew you were gonna give it up, or something. That was actually something you were still unsure about.

When you appeared in the living room, your heels alerted your family to your presence. Ellie leaned against the couch, coolly, swinging her keys around her finger. She wore low-hanging jeans, a plain top with a striped long-sleeve under it with a thick jacket layered on top—probably Joel’s. “You ready to go?” You raised your eyebrows, chewing on your bottom lip���nerves wracking through you.

Either because of Ellie’s soft eyes on you, or the anticipation of seeing Abby. It was hard to tell.

“Uh, y-yeah… Yeah, let’s go.” She stammered, standing to her feet.

Maria sipped on a glass of wine, eyeing your clothes. “You look cute, Bug— for any reason in particular?” She raised a blonde eyebrow.

“Mom, I’m going to a bar… Why wouldn’t I look cute?”

“She’s a single woman in her twenties, Maria—“

“Let’s not.” You wave your hand, cutting Tommy off. “Ellie,” You spoke, subtly pleading.

She nodded, catching the keys in her hand. “All right, we’re going.” Ellie opened the door for you, allowing you to push toward the screen door—the one you held for her.

“Be safe!”

“Of course!” The both of you responded, glancing at each other with semi-stern eyes.

Heels clicking on the porch, you walk down the steps into the gravel. “Where’s Cat? Is she not going out with us?”

Ellie unlocked her truck, clicking the button on the remote in her hand. “Wouldn’t you like to know…”She snickered, peering at you, unable to hide the glimmer in eyes from taking in your appearance. “Her work thing took longer than she thought. She didn’t feel like comin’ out.”

Yes!

“Ah,” You responded instead of jumping up and down, cheering. Getting into the car was a lift, hopping into the passenger seat.

Her copper truck had aged, but had that same old feel to it. Feeling the stitched seats, shamelessly, brought you back to when you were younger—sitting in her truck those first few times. It was kind of claustrophobic and intimidating being this tightly bound to Ellie.

She was less tense, shutting the door behind her. Ellie put the keys in the ignition, starting the car and turning on the radio. Blink-182, I Miss You, played low—the silence between the two of you speaking up. She scoffed under her breath, switching the radio to another station. “Too slow,” The auburn-haired woman muttered.

“I liked that song, though…” You look at her from the corner of your eye.

Hesitantly, she glanced at you, reached her hand back to the number to switch the station back to the alternative one playing Blink-182. Ellie pressed her lips into a line, putting the truck into drive.

The trip was no longer than ten minutes to the Tipsy Bison. A trip filled with radio music and glances back and forth. To occupy yourself, you played Tetris on your cell until you felt the truck slowing down in the parking lot. When she shut the car off, that’s when your nerves really picked up.

“They should already be inside.” Ellie pointed out. She inspected you the passenger seat, rigid shoulders and a clenching jaw. “You look good— great, even. It might be a little awkward, but—“

“How about this…” You run your tongue over your bottom lip, tasting the strawberry flavored gloss on your lips. “You go on ahead inside— I’ll meet you.” Pulling the handle, you hop out the truck. Your fingers rustle through your purse for the yellow pack of American Spirits and your lighter.

Ellie bunched her thick eyebrows, following you out the car. Locking the doors behind her. “What?”

“I can’t smoke inside… So, go ahead.” You popped out a cigarette, placing it between your lips.

“You sure? I feel like it’ll be easier if we walk in together.” She furrowed her eyebrows, seeing the uncomfortableness written all over your face.

“I’m sure, Ellie. Just go.” You avert your eyes, lighting the tip of the nicotine stick. Waiting for that first inhale to calm your nerves.

She stuffed her hand into her pockets, nodding her head. “I will see you inside, right?” Ellie questioned, fearing that you’d run off. Your only response was a released of smoke from your lips, and a pair of narrowed eyes. “Fuck,” She cursed. “Fine. See you inside.”

Ellie disappeared into the bar. You kicked a leg up against the wall, tapping the ash from your cigarette. Who knew what the feelings of one person could do. In your head, you played through every possible outcome of the situation—seeing Dina again. She could either be really sweet, like she used to be, or still be that grudging person that you familiarized yourself after that day.

The high beams of a shiny, black Jaguar came into your sights—blinding you. You hold up your hand, covering your eyes with arched lips. They were so bright, you didn’t realize who they belonged to until she got out. The blonde wore all black in the sleekest way possible—letting everyone know in this town that she was better than them. That was just the aura she had.

Her long blonde hair was pushed behind her ears and shifted against her black leather jacket. The high beams blinked off, as she approached you, pushing up a a pair of black sunglasses over her head.

“It’s dark out. How do you even drive with those things on?” You raise a skeptical eye, taking a drag from the cigarette between your index and middle finger.

“A hi or hello would be a preferred greeting.” Abby teased, lips spreading into a movie-star smile.

Pressing your lips into a line, ashing the rest of the cigarette out on the wall. “Hi, Abby.” You couldn’t have rolled your eyes harder, really. Her strong arms wrapped around your shoulders, pulling you into her chest. It was firm, but most importantly, warm and comforting. Your arms stretched around her back, nuzzling more into her embrace.

“I hope the cigarette’s the only reason why you’re standing out in the cold.” She pulled back just enough, to keep your bodies pressed together and to meet your eyes.

“Yeah, pretty much.” You purse your lips.

Abby’s hand massaged your tensed shoulders. “Then, let’s get inside. Let me get you a drink to warm you up.”

Ellie already had a drink in hand, and a water for you, unsure of what you wanted. Jesse and Dina had visited her many times in New York—this wasn’t a rekindling. It was just a couple of friends meeting for some beers and a few laughs. Her olive eyes kept glancing at the door waiting for you to come through in all of your glory. And, you were being timed. If you didn’t push through those doors within the next ten minutes, she was going to come out and drag you inside.

As she were about to tell them that she was going to get you, threatening Dina to be nice, you walked in. But you weren’t alone. A tall, muscular blonde had her arm around your shoulders, pulling your tight to her side. And, fucking hell, she looked so much cooler than Ellie did.

She watched as her blue eyes danced around the bar, looking for someone. They widened, and a smile spread on her lips. Hand raising to the ceiling to wave at her friends occupying a booth behind Ellie, Jessie, Dina. “Who the fuck is that?” She spoke, arching her lip in disgust—which wasn’t entirely purposely.

You noticed Ellie, standing from the table she sat at. Waving your fingers, you gave a small smile. Until your eyes landed on an obsidian-haired young woman, with a resting bitch face worse than your own. Dina was leaned back in her chair with her arms crossed. You allowed Abby to guide you to the bar, ordering your usual—a double vodka cranberry.

Something about this night was going to be very, very long. Good thing Cat didn’t come out.

taglist: @autisticintr0vert , @liasxeatt

[unknownplane]

The Court Jester Part 2

Yandere Batfam x GN Reader

Pt. 1, Pt. 3, Pt. 4

As Batman questioned his life choices, his other children listened in on the conversation.

"So that's what happened to (Y/N). I thought they had just moved out." Tim stated.

"How did that weak-" Damian started but was cut off by Tim. "You didn't even know them! They were nice and understood how important our work was, so they tried to stay out of the way!"

Dick and Jason just blocked out the arguing as they started to remember all the things (Y/N) did for them. How they tried to help even in the smallest ways. Like how they would always make sure there was a fresh pot of coffee or how they would rotate the types of cookies in the manor so everyone got one they liked.

When (Y/N) first moved out, the first thing the family realized was how much they did. It felt weird the first couple of weeks, but they eventually got used to it. Seeing (Y/N) like this made them worry, even if some of them wouldn't admit it (Damian). This awoken something in each of them.

Dick saw someone who was with him since the beginning. Someone he could always trust to be there for him when he needed it, and now he could see it was gone. The twisted smile on their face showed all the pressure he and his family put on them, and he felt nothing but guilt.

Jason saw someone who went through something similar to him. He saw the torture in their eyes. He heard the manipulation in the words that came out their mouth. He knew that if he could just get to them and talk like they used to, it would all be fine. He was determined to get them back, and this time, they weren't leaving his sight.

Tim saw the calculation that went into this trap. He saw the brain of (Y/N), who even in this state was brilliant. He saw the planning, the research, the trail and error of each detail in this plan, all to catch Batman and have a conversation with him before your "Dad" got there. He wanted to bounce ideas off you. He wanted to talk about plans with you. He even wanted to just hang out and chill with you, but in order to do that, he would need to get you back. And when you came back, he would do all those things with you.

Stephanie saw the abandoned side of you. She realized that she didn't know anything about you. Your age, your favorite color, your birthday, she didn't even know your last name. She knows what it's like to have a distant relationship with a parent figure, and she wants to help. She wants to know all of those things. She wants to know you. And if you let her (you will), she wants to be the closest person to you.

Damian saw a weak follower who needed not only to learn but also needed to be protected. Even though you are older than him, he can see a flame in you that with the right training and teacher could become a full-on blaze. He would be that teacher. He would be the one you look up to. Nobody else. He just needed to get you back to start training.

They all looked at each other as if thinking the same thing,"Let's go get (Y/N)."

Back with (Y/N)...

"Dads gonna be so proud when he sees this! I mean, look at you! You look totally defeated!" (Y/N) said between giggles. They were giddy. They had talked to dad about if they could try something with the Bat, and surprisingly, he agreed. After the Bat was caught, they sent the signal to their father so they could show off their work.

Batman was tied to a chair. His utility belt on the floor as they made him make a choice. Drop your utility belt, or I will kill these two parents and make a boy and a girl orphans. They knew what they were doing. They knew it was wrong. But God did it feel good. To have his eyes looking at them and having him see what they truly are. Not their mother but (Y/N). Even if they look a little different now.

As the Bat was beginning to start a sentence the door busted open.

"Hello Peanut!" The Joker exclaimed as he came in. "Look at all the fine work you've done. My little Jester".

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

Thank you so much for all the support on the first part of this! Everytime I see your guys support I am baffled at how wonderful you all are. Quick question do you want this to be completely platonic or do you want some people from the family to be romantic? Also should I add more people from the DC Universe? Thank you so much for reading!

@asillysimp

[gamblersdoll]

nsfw, implied masturbation, p in v, semi mean bakugou. pro hero bakugou! spit and choking.

it does sometimes suck not having a pro hero line job, always having to be home alone and wait for you boyfriend, dynamite, come home.

this time was harder, since it was your ovulation time around that month. the week before your dreadful period and you needed him. he was supposed to be at some mission in another country, you werent so sure when he would be home.

and those urges were back, rougher and harder than ever since you were all alone..

so you did what was best, right? sliding your right hand down your panties and curling your fingers into your sensitive and swollen g-spot, and a left hand on your tit, it begging for attention since you havent had sexual relations in about two weeks.

it felt good to finally feel something inside you, until your ring notifications came and—

shit, hes home!?

‘baby?’ he shouts out, you hear his gauntlets drop against the door as you scramble to find your clothes, rushing down stairs to greet him.

“how was the mission?” you chuckle, him leaving sloppy kisses all over your cheek and kissing your lips. “did it go as planned?”

“only some minor events, but it went well. hell, it s cause i was there.” he boasts, planting you back down and looking over to the stove. “what’cha cookin’?” he asks, patting a hand on your butt as he sits on the couch.

“some rice and peas, oxtails too. had a craving.” you mumble, it wasnt much of a lie, but a good cover up. he grunts in response, momentarily looking at the tv and then plopping his head back to look at you.

the fuck?

his eyes widen, looking at your frame in just a t-shirt and panties. that wouldn’t normally make him hot and bothered, but the obvious thing did: the white creamy slick in between your legs, and the small evidence on the lower of your asscheek.

he grins, canines barred and he walks to you, hugging you from behind and watches you stir the pot of the gravy covered oxtails. the silence was comforting, his hands rubbing up and down your throat and hips.

“so, did it feel good?” he asks, whispering the question into your ear and still watching your hands.

“did what feel good?” you reply, not paying it much mind.

“you obviously had some fun with your cunt, couldnt even do a simple thing of cleaning up.”

you eat your words, heart beating in a cold sweat and swallowing thickly. “dont get shy now, princess.” he chuckles, taking a hand and slipping it past your panties, a finger intruding into your hole. “shi— this was fuckin’ recent? yer’ still fucking leaking.”

“kat—“ you try, him placing a hand on your throat and tilting your head back to look up at him.

“did it feel good?” he asks again, his hard on pressing between your cheeks and a grin still on his face. you nod, heat forming on your face and ears. “yeah? how many times did the slut cum?” he cooed, bumping his hips into yours slowly.

“i.. didnt get the chance to.” you mumble, reminiscing on you being so close to having that big ‘o’ before he came home and barged himself in.

he sucks his teeth, “oh, really? did i disrupt you?” he cooed again, finger hooking around the waist band and then yanking them down. “poor baby, ill make it up to you.” as he said while he turns down the stove flames to a simmering heat.

he whips you around to the island instead, having you still look up to him from behind. his hand travels behind, pressing into your still leaking hole from the back and curling up into your spot. “now where was that g-spot.. hmm,” he pretended to wonder, feigning confusion. “here?” he curls again, chuckling when you suck in a breath and moan. “oh yeah, it is right there.”

your legs try to close, but his hero boots spread them apart in one swift motion and bending you slightly over the island table. “does that feel good?” he asks softly, causing you to tear up and nod. “yeah? oh, i can tell.”

you choke on your tears, barely can keep your eyes open to look him in the eye. “i–i’m going to cum..” you moan, breath hitching when he speeds up the pace. “ im cumming, im cumming–“ you cry, legs shaking and eyes crossing. your mouth drops into a ‘o’, then your voice works again.

“mm, there ya go..” he mumbles, watching your eyes and kissing your lips. by this time, he’d already had pulled his cock out, it slightly pressing against that other puckered hole moments ago. “you need more than my fingers, i know.”

he did, knowing how much of a needy person you are when in need of cock.

his tip slips in, then he pulls it back out in a tease. “fuck, cant just bottom out so soon, huh?” he teases, tapping his heavy cock onto your plump ass.

“please, katsuki.” you whine, pressing your ass against the heavy balls he hadnt emptied in weeks. he groans, kissing your head and finally, fucking finally, slipping himself in.

and it was like his cock just knew where your g-spot was, because it was already there.

his hand, thats been on your throat this whole time, squeezes just a bit and feels how it expands and shrinks when you moan his name, or moan how good he makes you feel. “yeah? tell me how good this feels.” he growled out, a needy growl since he hasnt cum in the weeks you havent. “how long have you been craving this cock?” he mocks, prying your mouth open with his thumb and spitting in your dark, wet cavern.

you swallow greedily, breathing heavy when his thrusts slow down and he focuses on a slow pace, kissing your bruised and tender lips in a passionate need.

and that only draws out his kids into your womb, a breathy exhale from his nose and a spasming cock inside your walls. “took it so good, baby.” he whispered against your lips, leaning back to check on the food youd made. “luckily we didnt burn the food.”

[lorasdolly]

heyyy how are you doing??

i was thinking of a sevika fic, friends to lovers, in which they are really close and sevika is afraid to fuck things up because reader is like her only friend 😭

𝐍𝐎𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐋𝐈𝐊𝐄 𝐃𝐎𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐍𝐎𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐖𝐈𝐓𝐇 𝐘𝐎𝐔

────୨ৎ────

𝘀𝗲𝘃𝗶𝗸𝗮 𝘅 𝗳𝗲𝗺 𝗿𝗲𝗮𝗱𝗲𝗿 (𝗳𝗿𝗶𝗲𝗻𝗱𝘀 𝘁𝗼 𝗹𝗼𝘃𝗲𝗿𝘀 𝘀𝗹𝗶𝗴𝗵𝘁𝗹𝘆 𝗺𝗼𝗱𝗲𝗿𝗻 𝗮𝘂?)

Your apartment had the pure vanilla and cashmere scent all around. The couch was bundled up with blankets, pillows, plushies, and everything else that could possible keep you comfortable. You were in the kitchen, staring at the candle’s flickering flame as you waited for the milk to heat up on the stove.

Sevika was arriving soon to hang out, and you’re nearly sure she’d sleepover considering she asked so late. You were always up to have fun. Right as you were about to remove the pot from the stove, the doorbell rung, and you forgot to shut off the heat, rushing to the front door.

Swinging it open, you saw Sevika there with a scarf and coat on, and beyond her there were inches of snow pouring down. Her eyes glazed over your body, the silk pajamas you had on, the cute bunny slippers. She wanted to melt right then and there.

“Hey— God, you should come inside, ‘Vika, it’s freezing out here!” You exclaimed, moving over to make space for her to enter. Shutting the door behind her, she began to remove her scarf and coat, a black wife-pleaser and sweatpants beneath it.

Your slippers dragged on the wooden floor, going towards the living room when it dawned on you that the milk was still on the stove! “Awh—!” You shouted, running towards the kitchen and taking Sevika by surprise. The milk was frothing and boiling over once you entered, hands working to take it off the stove with little damage.

A pout graced your lips, Sevika following behind you and placing a hand on your shoulder. “Did I get here at a wrong time?” Her voice was always deep yet held an edge of tenderness when speaking to you. You shook your head and looked up at her. “No way— I’m just stupid, forgot to turn off the stove,” The petulant look was still painted upon your features, letting a chuckle escape past her lips.

“That was for us, y’know! Some hot chocolate…” You complain, bottom lip slightly poking out. “Don’t frown, don’t you have some cheap wine we could crack open?” Your eyes light up, bouncing in rejoice at her words. You rushed to the cabinets, one leg off the floor as you tippy-toed to grab the wine bottle all the way at the top.

“You’re a genius, ‘Vika!” You said with a high-pitched tone, the red-wine bottle in your grasp now. She came beside you and shut the cabinet before you had a chance to hit your head. “You would’ve thought of it sooner if you weren’t so caught up on the milk,” She explained gently, still eyeing you.

You got the wine opener, handing it to Sevika so she could do it herself while your finished bringing the snacks to the living room. You brought bowls and plates over to the coffee table, an assortment of foods and candies.

When you returned, she was grabbing glasses to pour the wine into. Instead of interrupting her, you jumped onto the counter, sat on the edge of it with one lower leg crossed over the other. A small smirk was placed on her uneven, full lips as she handed you the glass.

Sevika watched as your own lips circled the rim of the glass, eyes closing once you took a sip. “Not the biggest fan, but it’ll make do.” Your voice snaps her out of the staring trance, her gaze moving back to your eyes, her fingers crossed in hopes you didn’t notice the way she looked at your features.

"What do you have picked out for tonight?" She asked knowingly, watching as your face lights up once again, a shift she could watch happen a million times and never find boredom. You stepped off the counter, running towards the living room and hoping she'd follow after.

Truthfully, it was more like a 'knowing' she'd follow after.

She placed both wine glasses on the coffee table, eyes raking over the variety of foods that Sevika loved. She had never taken advantage of the fact you knew everything about her, every little detail. She bathed in that fact everyday, soaking up the moments. The TV was on and ready for games, she watched the nearing prideful expression on your face.

Her larger palm came to ruffle the top of your hair, watching your heartily expression. "We can play mario kart or something!" You exclaim, dragging her by the hand to where you two will sit. "And then– we can watch the notebook!"

Sevika cocks a brow, yet somehow oblivious. "We watch the notebook every time," She reminds, watching as your legs drape over her thigh, landing between both of her legs. Sevika had made up her mind that you two were just friends, but her heart sped up. You pout slightly, "So?"

She chuckles, leaning back on the couch and finding the game with the controller in her hand. "Nothin', the notebook it is." You grin, grabbing your own controller and picking a character. "I can be princess peach and you choose mario," Sevika hums softly, picking mario. "He looks nothing like me." She grumbled playfully.

"Not supposed to look like you, silly." Sevika's gaze lifts and places itself onto you, the little smile on your lips, the way your tongue slightly sticked out as the game began. Sevika's hands moved on the controller, trying to focus, yet she still stared at you. Your little bounces once you got closer, gasps when someone passes you, she tried to mentally picture them to never forget. “Ahh! I almost won, got second place!” You declare, falling back against her shoulder.

She snaps out of the trance, looking at the screen and her incredibly behind spot. “Shit,” She whispered, looking at how your arm wrapped around her bicep in ‘defeat’. “It’s okay, you did good,” Sevika speaks, practically playing with one hand as she once again pats your head. “You suck, ‘Vika.” You murmur, head now in her lap as she finishes terribly.

She scoffs, fisting your hair childishly and lifting it off her lap. “Maybe you pick the games you’re good at purposefully.” She points out, vision narrowed at you. Your tongue sticks on, taunting her. “Child.” She replies to the gesture, flicking your forehead and receiving a whine.

You scurry off the couch to turn off the light, Sevika being unphased till she feels you throw yourself onto her. She huffs, wrapping her hands around you to stabilize you. “Are you trying to hurt yourself?” She scolds like a worried parent. You giggle against the top of her head, situating besides her. “The notebook!” She rolls her eyes yet not truly meaning it, “It’s stupid.”

The move begins and it was a long, hard 2 hours before the ending scenes come on and you hear sniffles from Sevika. A grin grows on your face again, grabbing your phone and flashing the light in her face. “Is big bad Sevika crying to the notebook’s ending??” Sevika grunts, jerking your hand away lightly. “Shuddup,” She grumbles, picking up a pillow and throwing it at you.

The phone tumbles out of your hand and you gasp in mock offense, hands coming to wipe her tears. “Poor, poor Sevika.” You jeer, cradling her face and cooing. Her palm goes over your face, basically covering the whole of it and pushing you away. You sit back, crossing your arms, “I totally think Allie is way too pretty for Noah.” You assert, shrugging it off. Sevika nods in response, not too passionate about it.

“‘Vika?” You whisper softly, hands on your lap nervously fidgeting. “Yeah?” She answers, rubbing her eyes in exhaustion. “How long are we going to be playing eye tag before you say something..?” Her words tumble over each other, eyes widening at the realization of what you were implying.

“What?”

You huffed, looking at her surprised, flushed expression. “I’m getting tired of giving you so many signs and you just—“ You huff, throwing your arms in the air. “Ignoring them..!” She shakes her head, turning to you and nearly getting whiplash. “I mean— if you’re not interested, say it, but don’t—“ She cuts you off, shaking her head desperately. “God, no.”

Her hands couldn’t find their way to you this time. She never minded touching you, embracing you, but under this context? God, she could pass out. “I am interested, I—“ She was reluctant, not sure how to express this. She had been imagining this moment for years, never thinking it’d really happen. Yet, here she was, stumbling over her words, eyes wide like a deer in headlights.

Your lip crashed onto her, not wanting to witness the embarrassment from not knowing how to word things. She didn’t kiss back at first and you nearly pulled away, but her hands wrapped around your waist. Half of your body was on hers yet not fully. Your lips parted, allowing her access to deepen the kiss.

You bit her lip softly, getting pulled in closer. Her body shifted, gently placing you beneath her and parting kisses for little breaths and small giggles. Your hands tugged at her hair, playfulness and warmth emitting from the moment. The kiss broke fully, a string of saliva connecting you two. “God, ‘Vika.”

Both of you were smiling, lips against one another, breath heavy. Her hand tucked a strand of your hair behind your ear, "M'so sorry." She murmured, kissing down your neck. You shook your head, running your hands through her hair softly, sighing.

"Didn't wanna mess this up.." She mumbled against your jawline, moving to nibble at your pulse point. You nodded gently, "It's 'kay, 'Vika." She brought you closer, her kisses at your tummy, circling your navel and down to your pelvis. Her gaze is focused on you.

"Perfect, all of this," She emphasized each word with a kiss at your hips.

[simps-for-a-fictional-character]

House wardens walk in on you changing

Tw: slightly NSFW, established relationships, scaring in some parts, Suggestive content. You are refused to mc and no pronouns mostly

Riddle rosehearts

Riddle was coming to tell you that it was time for you to help him set up the unbirthday party for tonight. Yes he does tell others to do it, but he felt like spending time with you.

"MC-" he spoke as he opened the door. His face immediately flushed as red as his hair upon seeing your half naked body.

"I-im sorry!" He quickly leaves, slamming the door shut behind him and holding his face. He mumbled to himself about being an idiot. He completely forgot to knock! Though it would be a lie if he didn't think you were attractive in less clothing.

"Snap out of it, Riddle! Dont have those dirty thoughts about your lover! It's improper as house-warden!" He was blushing more and quickly walked away. Soon, you came out to see him sitting in the garden. You smiled and walked over and nudged him lovingly.

"Hey its alright it's not the first time you saw me like that riddle~"

All Riddle did was blush brightly. He was in for a teasing from his lover.

Leona kingscholar

Leona let out a loud yawn sitting up from the bed he and you shared. He looked beside him but you weren't there which was strange. He gets up and streched out.

"Herbivore?" He looked around and saw the closet was closed. He walked over and opened it. You were putting on one of his shirts. Leona blushed and snatched you up.

You tell him to put you down and your voice falls on deaf ears.

"Herbivore you can hide from me! I know you inside and out. So why are you so afraid of changing in front of me. It's not like someone else is gonna see it"

You huffed and rolled your eyes as leona put his hands on your thighs.

"And as punishment for hiding, I'm gonna cuddle you until the sun goes down!"

Azul Ashengrotto

Azul was signing contracts with students despite you not liking it. Azul had wondered where you had gone as you volunteered to work as a waitress at the mostro lounge.he quickly got up after telling his client he would be right back.

"Hey MC, the tables are-" he spoke as he walked into his room where you most likely were. When he looked, he froze, blushing. He was at a loss for words seeing your upper body fully exposed. He wanted to crawl into his octopus pot and die.

You smiled at him and put on your shirt uniform (if your a girl you also put on a strapless bra). You walked over and kissed azul on the nose and walked out to help jade with waiting tables.

Kalim Al-Asim

Kalim was wander the halls of ramshackle when he walked into your room without knocking.

"Hey MC Jamil wants to know what you want for lunch!" Kalim smiled happily not noticing you were half naked

You spoke out and told him what you wanted as you slipped your cargo pants on.

"Okay we will be at scarabia! And nice legs too MC!" and with that kalim left without saying another word.

You sat for a moment and giggled at how innocent and pure kalim is. Your so lucky to love someone like him

Vil Schoenheit

You being the lover of the most "beautiful" man ever he always was there to watch you change. He wanted to make sure your in a beautiful outfit when your with him.

"MC! You look amazing like that!" He yells whenever you put something of his on

You were used to him watching you strip your clothes and putting new ones on, as he never really done anything. He was really good at keeping his hands to himself. He always asked if he could touch you.

You smiled and did a small spin showing off the dress/tuxedo he made for you. How lucky you are to have the most handsome man in the world make beautiful clothing for you

Idia shroud

(His is a bit different)

One of the few times when idia leaves his room is when he needs to get his hoodie back from you. He knocked on the ramshackle dorms main door, and you opened it. You were wearing idias hoodie and no pants. The tips of his flaming hair turned pink, and you brought him inside.

"M-MC! W-WHY ARE YOU-"

You had cut idia off with a kiss and smiles. You like to tease idia when you could. He was red in the face. Of course, he looked away, embarrassed at the fact you had kissed him without warning. He was an Otaku! Not a romantic person.

"M-mc maybe you should put some pants o-on. I can see your underwear (panties if female)" you blushed and smiled before hugging him without a care in the world. You trusted idia. After all he was to afraid to even kiss you

Malleus Draconia

He knocked on your door and opened it. Of course you were still putting on your shirt but you didn't mind.

"Child of man, what would you like to eat for lunch?" He asked a small blush on his face. You answered [fav food] and he nods.

"Okay I'll let lilia know so he can start cooking it"

You quickly stopped malleus and said we could just order takeout. You really did not feel like getting sick again from lilias cooking.

"But child of man don't you love lilias cooking?"

You lied and told him you did but decided to just order fast food. Malleus nods slowly and looked at your phone

"Take out from where?"

And you handed him your phone to choose. Oh how this fae loved you deerly enough to play for everything if you would let him

[frost-queen]

Melting snow (Reader x Prince Zuko)

Requested by @hyunjinvoid Forever tag:@missmelodramatic, @alex–awesome–22, @ellie-does-the-posts, @floatlosers, @merlieve , @queen-of-books , @glimmering-darling-dolly , @denkisclown , @wildieflower , @meyocoko , @justanothercoco, @subjecta13-thefangirl , @m-rae23 , @harleyquinnswifeyfrfr , @swampything07, @melsunshine , @panhoeofmanyfandoms , @venomsvl , @the-uncoordinated-house-cat , @rosecentury , @imagines-by-her, @evilcr0ne , @vviolynn , @niktwazny303 , @avada-kedavra-bitch-187 , @erikasurfer @slythetic , @p0nycurtis, @eliscannotdance

“Zuko…”  - you said, reaching out for his shoulder. Before your hand could even touch his shoulder, he lashed out. Calling it out as he spun around, arm swaying out of your reach. It startled you making you blink innocently. – “Zuko… I was just…” – you tried explaining to him. – “Get lost!” – he called out, panting with anger. – “Zu…” – you tried once more, reaching out for him.

Zuko moved his hand across, a wave of flames with him. Making you block your arms up to cover up your face. Yelping loud as you felt the hotness brush near you. You stumbled to the ground looking frightful up at him. Zuko’s shoulder moving up and down with his heavy breathing. His expression cold despite the hotness radiating from him.

You had never seen him this angry before as it frightened you. Getting up, you took a run for it. Going back up to the ship’s deck. Zuko’s breathing steadied. Fading out till a soft breathing. Lowering his gaze, he felt the guilt of his actions clear. He knew he shouldn’t have lashed out, but he couldn’t help it.

It was his defence whenever he felt vulnerable. It was a weakness, he couldn’t show. Growing up with his father and sister made it that way. His weakness was of a quick time as his anger boiled again. Making him stomp his fist against the wall.

Some pots coming clattering down on the ground. Knowing his uncle might scold him later on it. It could care him less. For once again the avatar had slipped his grip. For sure he thought he had him. Only for the avatar to make a fool out of him. Nothing but silliness and games coming from him. Zuko thought for sure he’d outsmart such a child.

How wrong he was. For despite the childish appearance, the avatar had managed to  escape with a few good laughs. How he hated that capturing the avatar depended on regaining his honour and being able to return home. It was a task, he was not willing to fail on.

You had spurted onto the deck, panting loud. You noticed some soldiers looking your way. Feeling as if they were staring at you. Making your way to the railing, you gripped tight on it. Wishing you could be endlessly away from him and his temper. You admired Zuko much but that temper of his would be his undoing. You had hoped with your presence, you could’ve changed him. Helped him learn to control his anger and that there are more ways than using brute force.

When you signed up to join the crew, you only did it for Zuko. Knowing how utterly alone he would be. So as the girl that he had known since he was a child, you came along. Hoping your presence would make him feel less alone. It seemed to have worked till the arrival of the avatar messed with his brain.

All anger going straight to his head and fists. Gripping tight onto the railing, you tore your gaze away. Trying to stop yourself from crying. For crying for the friend you were losing in him with this process. Old scars never able to heal. Those old scars taking the upper hand on him.

Your lip quivered at the thought. A shudder of cold rushing down your spine. It made you open your eyes. Looking forwards at the glaciers. Chunks of ice drifting in the cold waters. Warming your arms a bit with your hands, you hoped to soon leave the Southern waters. You weren’t build for the cold. The ship steered narrowly through the glaciers. Hearing them crack once you get close to them.

The sound echoed and wrapped around the ship like a storm. Sending more shivers down your spine. Hearing some movement and commotion behind you, made you look. Seeing how all the crew formed a line. Not a moment later emerged Zuko onto the deck. Hands behind his back.

Still the same cold expression on his face. His crew saluted their prince. Between their heads you noticed Zuko. His head turned to your direction. Knowing he could see you, you dropped into a curtsy out of respect for your prince. No matter how well you knew him, you knew your place. It was nowhere near royalty.

Zuko quickly turned his head, focusing forwards once more. He neared the front of his ship, looking back at the Southern waters. His shoulders slouching down with a deep breath. You didn’t even needed to speak with him to know what he was thinking.

Biting your lip, you hesitated. Having the urge to run over to him and comfort him. Comfort him as you had done so many times. When he cried for his mother. When Azula taunted him again. When his father disciplined him. You were always there to pick up his spirit and keep him going.

Then your mind went back to just now. How he had lashed out to you. You didn’t have to lie that it hurt. Hurt seeing him treat you like this. After all this, after all what you went through, he still pushed you away when things got heated. Zuko tore his gaze away, turning round. His gaze falling on you. It made you gulp soft. Wondering what was going through his head. Zuko seemed to move to your direction before he changed his mind. A shadow fell over you, spiking up your curiosity.

A second later you heard shouting. Looking over your shoulder, you saw the biggest glacier close to the ship. The captain desperately trying to steer the ship away. Anticipating the moment. The ship’s side slid against the glacier, making an excruciating sound.

The captain and others shouting loud. You ran away from the railing. chunks of ice falling onto the deck. Falling into smaller pieces of hard snow. Gasping loud, you looked over your shoulder. Seeing the glacier shudder. The bumping of the ship awakening it. Gaze going down, you saw Zuko close by. Snow rolled down the glacier as you knew what it meant.

Focused on Zuko, you started to run over to him. The snow coming down like an avalanche. You knocked Zuko out of the way with your shoulder just before the snow hit the deck. Falling on top of you as your screams were deafened out. Zuko was panting loud, pulling himself a bit up by his fist. His gaze fixated on the chunk of snow laying on deck.

“Y/n!” – he screamed out. He rushed up to his feet, running over. Diving to his knees to start digging into the snow. Clearing a way to you. Knowing that each second counted. Panting loud, he kept digging and digging. Clearing away the snow. His mind panicking and begging for you to be alright. Regretting ever wrong word he said to you. Regretting all his angers outed towards you.

“Y/n!” – Zuko said when your arm resurfaced. He started to clear the snow faster. Taking you by the arm to drag you closer to him. He held you in his arm, laying in his lap. He touched your cheek feeling how cold it was. – “Y/n… please…” – he said gently shaking your clothing for any movement. – “Y/n!” – Zuko shouted loud when no reaction came. He shook you harder, more desperate for any reaction.

Any sign that would tell him you were still with him. – “Y/n… please… please…” – he begged, his eyes becoming teary. – “Wake up… please… wake up…” – his shaking stopped as it seemed pointless. Touching your cheek once more, you were freezing cold. He pulled you closer to his chest, embracing you. – “I’m sorry… I’m sorry… please forgive me.” – he let his forehead touch yours.

“I beg you… come back… please… I need you.” – he sobbed out, cherishing you in his embrace. – “I need you to scold me. To show me the right way. To comfort me and knock some sense in me. I need you to be at my side. Please I need you in my life. I can’t live without you.” – Zuko wiped his tears aggressively away.

“Don’t you dare leave me! You don’t get to leave me! I need you because I can’t go any further without you.” – he lowered his head to leave a kiss on your forehead. – “Do you hear me Y/n!” – he shouted loud out of frustration. – “I hear you.” – you responded making him widen his eyes. – “Y/n!” – he called out in disbelieve as you tried to get up. Zuko bumped his chest against you, wrapping his arms around you.

It made you tap him on his shoulder, feeling smothered by him. – “Don’t go squeezing me to death fire prince.” – you taunted him. You felt him squeeze you tighter just to taunt you back. He then released his grip onto you. – “I thought you were dead!” – he shouted at you, nearly crying from relief that you were still here. – “Why didn’t you wake up!” – he gave you a stomp against your arm, making you call it out in pain.

“Because you were giving such a great speech. I couldn’t interrupt that could I now.” – you curled up a smile. Zuko tensed his jaw, grabbing you by the chin. Your eyes shot wide open when he pressed his lips onto yours. Feeling the warmth of his body warm your lips. Sending a warmth through your body. From your head till the tips of your toes.

When he pulled away, he let his thumb brush against your cheek. Seeing your color had returned. No longer looked icy. He cracked up a smile at your frozen expression. Zuko started waving his hand in front of your face to get a reaction out of you. You squealed loud, jumping at him. Wrapping your arms around him as he fell back with you. Your lips on him again. Zuko kissed you lovingly back. Iroh watching approvingly from a distance. Already picturing the wedding for he had always been rooting for the two of you.

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Read more of my fics on my Masterlists!

[luxtrys]

a hundred and ten percent ready.

your first time with anakin skywalker (18+, smut noshy. innocent!reader, cocky asf ani (a warning in itself) size kink. )

you couldn't hear the dramatically aggressive slam of the door to yours and anakin's apartment over the soft music flowing out of your record player. you hummed to the tune, swiping your hand through the chocolate you had used all your muscles to chop into the pot of boiling heavy cream.

anakin watched lovestruck, leaning his head on the kitchen door frame as you let out an excited squeal to yourself while mixing the steaming pot of hot chocolate on the stove. ani was confused the first time you had brought up hot chocolate to him, on the first conversation you ever had might i add. the way you talked about it with so much care and love he thought it was a childhood pet your parents just let you name. you added in the espresso powder and vanilla essence before stirring it with the heart spatula ani had gave you on a random sunday.

once you noticed a few to many bubbles rising to the surface of your beautiful creation, you quickly bent down to be eye level with the stove. as you slowly changed the size of the flame under your pot, you felt a strong arm snake around your waist, pulling your ass into the persons crotch. squealing, you straighten your back instantly as the familiar smell of smoke, sandalwood and cologne enters your nose. "what'chu makin baby?" anakin rasped, bending down to rest his head on your shoulder.

you looked up at him, mustering up the most annoyed face you could. he knew what you were making, you made hot chocolate at-least twice a week without failure. "oo baby don't look at me like that, gonna make me cry" he smirks, leaning down and catching your lips in a heated kiss. you indulge for a few seconds before pulling back, moving your attention back to the pot on the stove "i added espresso powder this time ani! i read it on that blog i like, it said it really brings out the chocolate flavour and i'm so excited to try" he scoffed at how quickly you just ignored the make out session you had just, rubbing your stomach with his hand and shaking his head.

it was only a few minutes before ani was pouring the steaming chocolate liquid into the matching mugs you made him for valentines day, your names etched on each and bunnies and hearts decorating the white cups. anakin always did that job, banning you from it after you accidentally poured the hot chocolate all over your hand and he had to sit in the ice cold shower with you to calm the burning for over four hours, holding you close to his bare chest as you sobbed.

you sat down on the kitchen stools, tapping your acrylic nails onto the marble surface in excitement. "what sprinkles tonight baby?" he asked as he grabbed the whipped cream out of the fridge, he knew the answer because you picked the same every-time, but he asked anyway. "pink and white hearts please ani" you answered, glancing out to the lively city of Coruscant through your endless high windows.

"thank you ani!" you exclaimed as he placed the hot mug filled with hot chocolate, a mountain of whipped cream, small pink marshmallows and little heart sprinkles into your hands. he took the seat next to you, holding his mug filled with only hot chocolate, no sprinkles, marshmallows or cream, you almost broke up with him for that when you first started dating. the whipped cream and marshmallows you got, but the sprinkles? no way.

he wrapped his hand over the back of your chair, effortlessly pulling your chair closer to his so you were touching. you stared at him as his slid his hand over the top of your bare thigh, snaking it up and down before gripping the inside of your thigh, way to close to your heat. all while just staring absent mindedly in front of him and sipping his mug.

you were starting to feel those tingles inside of you, that you coincidently only got around ani. you and ani had done stuff before a few times after you came to him at the first feeling of tingles rising inside of you. he smirked at you then and patted the space on the bed beside him, telling you it was normal and he would help you out. he always helped you out, and you felt like it was time to return the favour. he never told you that you had to though, never making you feel like he deserved something in return, but you were ready. ready for sex.

you stared down at your mug, the little pink marshmallows drowning in the chocolate as the cream melted away into nothingness. you would never pass down a hot chocolate, never. but as you looked between your boyfriend and your mug, you realised you didn't crave hot chocolate. you craved anakin.

the loud screeching of your chair as you pushed it back and your socked feet hitting the floor alerted anakin of your state. your pupils wide and palms sweating as you pulled at the fabric of your - his - shirt. glancing over to see your mug untouched, ani was just about to pull you into his chest and console you at whatever got you worked up this time. but before he could, he heard words that made he nearly spit out the hot chocolate in his mouth.

"i want to have sex with you anakin"

out of all things anakin guessed you were going to say, those words were not one of them. you were shy, even after dating for more than a year, you never just said what you wanted without taking 5 minutes to stumble over your words. and you definitely didn't say words alluding to any sort of sexual activity unless ani teased you to say it after working you up with his fingers buried in you for way too long. "what? can you say that again princess i think i heard you wrong"

"i- pfft- ani you know what i said" you whined, still standing at least 5 feet from him, because if he were to touch you near there again, you might just explode. "nope. i need you to say it again, or you're getting nothing." ok. now he was just being mean.

you always oddly noticed that though. that anytime you guys would do anything down there, ani was just a bit mean. he was always in control, powerful, dominating, but in the bedroom it was like those present qualities were maxed out to 1000.

a flush spread across your cheeks as you huffed. "i- i want to have sex with you anakin" you voiced. that signature annoying cocky smirk spread across his features as he approached you. his combat boots still on his feet from jedi duties and his biceps bulging out of his thin black short-sleeve shirt, you thought you were going to faint.

you noticed again as he stood infront of you how fucking massive he was. he was at least a foot taller than you and could literally crush your body with a single arm if he wanted to. he left goosebumps on your delicate skin as he trailed his fingers up and down your arms making you shiver. he continued on his painfully slow attack of his soft touches before running his hands to the top of your thighs and hooking his thumbs on the sides of your lacy pink underwear.

he stared down at you, biting his lip and all knowing that your underwear was completely soaked because of him. you noticed he was stalled, not making another move and deep in thought. "ani whats wrong?" you asked, no, whined.

"you know this is a big thing baby, i'm fine with helping you out as long as you need me to ok? i don't want to rush you angel. i need you to be very sure you want this." he said softly, drawing circles with his fingers on your thighs.

you weren't exactly sure if it was because you were so horny or just so in love with him, but those words could make you break down and cry.

"im sure ani." he smiled down at you "ok baby, just-. are you 100 percent sure, because not to alarm you but if we start, i'm not sure ill be able to stop" you leaned into him, your forehead resting on the soft fabric of his shirt. "i'm a hundred and ten percent ready ani, promise."

at those words he quickly gripped your ass, hoisting you up into his chest so your legs wrapped around his waist and your arms swung around his neck. your squeal made him even more giddy as all he could feel was you, his thoughts echoed with your giggles and moans and he could practically smell you soaking through your panties.

his dick was straining in his pants as he set you on the soft pink blanket you insisted on putting on your bed. he kneeled down onto his knees pulling you by your feet so your legs dangled off the end of the bed as you squealed. he could feel the need to protect, pleasure and destroy you rise in his body as he reached under the shirt that swallowed your body entirely when you wore it, which was almost always.

he went as slow as he could as he ran his fingers up and down your folds through your panties. you threw your head back at the contact, biting your lip and whining his name. he chuckled at how little he had to do to have you melting in his hands.

as much as he wanted to tease you, he just needed to see you so bad it hurt. he gripped the hem of your shirt and lifted it over your head, the site of your bare chest almost making him bust in his pants. "shit baby you gotta stop doing this to me, won't fucking last. you're just so pretty." he had a slight groan to every word he said, taking your nipple into his mouth and sucking, making you mewl.

he looked into your eyes as he kissed all the way down your stomach before making it to the waistband of your panties. the cold air hit your sensitive clit as ani peeled of the underwear, staring at the wetness he had created and throwing them somewhere in the room. he licked a thick strip through your folds, gripping the insides of your thighs with both of his massive hands, stopping you from wriggling as he ate you out.

"fuckin' hell baby, this pussy 's gonna be the fucking death of me. taste so sweet" he said, his breath on your clit making you squirm. he needed to be in you, now. but there was no way he was fitting in you without stretching you out first, and he needed to fucking hurry.

he sucked his fingers, teasing your hole before sliding two fingers in at the same time. you gasped, looking down at him shocked, he never did two fingers first. "i know baby, you're alright. just need to get you stretched out ok? you're alright."

you nodded franticly as he pumped both fingers in and out of you, the pain quickly subsiding into pleasure. anakin didn't know how he was going to fit inside of you, because judging how hard your gripping two fingers, he wouldn't even fit three in and he was way bigger than three fucking fingers.

he finally decided to enter the third finger into you, slowly working his way through the resistance in your pussy "n-no ani, it's to much" you were blinded by pleasure, stars clouding your vision as all you could see was anakin.

"you're ok. quit whining and take it" his tone was rough and jagged, and you could not be more turned on in that moment. you whined, struggling under him as he brought you to your first orgasm of the night. you came all over his fingers with little warning, whining into your bed sheets as you gripped and pulled at his hair.

you almost let out an objection as he got up from his spot, but judging by the clouded, stern look on his face, that probably wasn't a good idea. he pulled his top off of his body swiftly, his toned, tan chest muscles straining as he ripped of his shoes. in that moment you noticed how venerable you were, you were lying in front of him stark naked, aside from your frilly pink socks, and he still even has his massive dumb combat boots on.

you slowly gripped the pink blanket under you, about to cover the bottom half of your body before a large hand halted your actions immediately. "i swear to god princess, stop or it'll be the last thing you ever fucking do" he spat, running his fingers up and down your folds again.

you noticed that now he was only in his boxers, his hard on showing through the thin material. as he slid his boxers down his legs, his length sprung out and made you gasp. you had never seen a penis before, but the way your friends crudely described it to you, you did not think it would be this big.

"what baby? you're gonna make me insecure if you keep staring at my cock like that" you huffed at his language, wondering how long it was. you stared at it for another few seconds before deciding it had to be at least 10 inches long, or even more and thick as well. safe to say it scared the shit out of you.

"ani, are you sure its meant to be that big?" he only chuckled at you, making you regret you ever asked that question. "hope so princess, had it all my life"

you reached your hand out, touching it for a moment before you heard ani hiss and pulled back instantly. "no baby its ok, i'm just to fucking horny right now, here" he gripped your hand, bringing it up to your mouth and telling you to spit. you did reluctantly and watched as he brought your hand to his dick.

"ani, thats not gonna fit down there.." you say, looking down to your pelvic area. "we're gonna make it" he smiled sweetly, a devilish twinkle in his eye.

"and just bring it right here" he instructed, guiding you to the base of his dick. you tried to wrap your hand around it, before releasing your hand didn't reach fully around the width of his cock. he groaned and threw his head back, watching as you shyly pumped up and down the shaft of his member. "here, squeeze a bit harder yeah? its not gonna break if you add a bit of pressure baby, promise"

you nodded shyly, tightening your grip on the heavy dick resting in your hand. as he was watching your movements closely, you kept eye contact and you brought your lips down and kissed the tip softly.

"fuck this" he exclaimed, manhandling you to be in the middle of the bed as he followed closely behind you. his dick slapped against his stomach, raging red and dripping with precum.

"you're doin great, bein' such a good girl for me, yeah? just need to be in you right now" you nodded frantically as he used his hand to hold the base of his dick, positioning in right infront of your pussy.

"ani is it gonna hurt?" you ask, his expressions changes from desperation to his soft loving face, lulling his head to the side as he looks straight at you. "just for a bit baby, then it will feel good, ok? you just gotta trust me on this. but if it hurts to much you tell me to stop ok? pinky swear it" you nodded as he quickly brought his pinky up to yours, inlacing it tightly before kissing your finger and letting go. "im just gonna put the tip in first baby, ok?" you nod again, a switch seems to flick in his face and he looks mad, really mad. "fucking words baby" he says before you whine "yes ani" he smiles sweetly, jesus these facial expressions are giving you whiplash.

he interlaces your left hands together as he pushes his thick tip past your walls, you mewl in pain and pleasure, the other hand you have resting on his bicep gripping so hard you're drawing blood.

"ow ani! i thought you just said the tip!" you whine, scolding your boyfriend. "that was just the tip." he states, your comments feeding his already oversized ego as all the blood rushes to his dick. you sit in that position for about another minute, until you announce for him to start moving again.

he enters his dick slowly into you, inching more until he's about half way through your walls. "s-stop. how much more to go?" you feel like his dick is the size of a fucking lightsaber, stretching you out father and father till you feel like you're simply just gonna split in half. "halfway baby, i can stop here for today. dont have to go any further angel" you looked up at him, god, you loved him to much. "kiss?" you asked softly, releasing you haven't even kissed him this whole time in the bedroom.

ani smiled sweetly, bending down and kissing your lips softly. once he pulled away, you looked at him, and then down at his length impaling you. "keep going ani"

he nodded quickly, not even having the might to protest. you breathed through your mouth as he pushed deeper and deeper inside of you. it hurt, it hurt like fucking hell but with every inch he pushed inside you, you felt pleasure pulsate through every part of your body.

you let out one last squeal as he bottomed out inside of you, falling into you as he moaned in pleasure. "knew you could fucking take me baby, such a good girl" you beamed at his compliment as he slowly started rocking back and forth into you.

he was amazed how he hasn't cum yet, but he needed you to before he could. he knew you were close, he studied your moans and your facial expressions long enough to figure out when you were cumming.

"ani g- gonna cum" you moaned, feeling him in every-part of you. "go on baby, right behind you". you could feel his dick empty out in you as you came all over him, scratching up his toned back.

"i love you so much ani" you breathed, pulling and tugging at his hair, his breath tickling your shoulder as he answered. "you don't even understand how much i love you baby, no one will ever understand."

[seattlesellie]

⋆˙ ♡ b l u e b e r r y p i e ♡⋆˙

pairing: farm!ellie williams x fem!reader

an: drabble based on a small request but i cannot find it ᥫ᭡

warnings: smut (mdni), daddy kink, housewife kink, slight spit play, dom!ellie, sub!reader

ellie's breath hung in the frigid air, visible puffs of white against the backdrop of the forest. the thick layer of snow muffled her steps as she treaded cautiously, her boots sinking with each weighty stride. she gripped her bow tightly, fingers calloused, the biting wind whipped through the trees. she scanned the landscape with piercing eyes, hoping to spot even the faintest trace of movement. but the forest, remained still, its inhabitants hidden away. ellie's grip tightened on the bow, her resolve strengthening amidst the disappointment. she wouldn't return empty-handed; she wouldn't let her promise slip away like the snowflakes that melted against her heated skin.

the sound of her boots stomping against the floor enter the house before she does. you hear her steps, as she paces on the entryway— right on the porch. she takes a deep breath, opens the door and it creaks. it fucking sucked out there, it was bone chilling cold, she couldn’t find a deer to kill, not even a goddamn rabbit, and it dawns upon her. you had told her you’d wanted a feast, it was nearing on christmas time, and she failed, again. dough filled pastries and pasta is all you two were going to eat for the next two weeks, until the snow starts clearing up and the animal’s crawl out of their sheds.

she doesn’t need to huff, or to even mutter a word, for you to know the state that she’s in. all it takes is that deep sigh, as soon as the door bangs and shuts close behind her. she doesn’t greet you with her usual “look what i got, babe” wiggling her eyebrows— because she knows how much you dislike seeing her hold those animals whilst they’re hanging dead from her hand, their fur disheveled and spotted with blood. all she does is throw the keys on the table, and takes her mud filled boots off of her feet, placing them right besides the door. she crosses her arms over her chest, and watches you intently.

warm, vegetable soup is boiling inside the pot, and besides it, lay two warm bowls of white rice. it’s below forty degrees outside, and yet— your body is impeccably adorned with a milky white, frilly apron. two tiny cream-colored bows are nestled on the sides, right where your waist meets the string. her lips almost curl up to a smile, because no matter how cold it is outside, no matter how glossy her eyes get from the wind, nose red from the snow laying atop it, your home will always be warm— you, will always be warm, and truthfully? that’s all she truly cares about. you grant the soup one last swirl, before turning the flame down, and you give ellie a moment to herself too, before you turn around and greet her. you know she doesn’t like it when you see her upset. a moment passes, and then two, and there’s that deep sigh.

“hey” she murmurs, and her voice is a tad harsh, it has a raspiness to it from the weather outside. you do not respond, nor do you turn around. you signal her to come closer with your hand, and again— there’s that thing her lips do, when they curl up to a smile that she’s trying to hide. she’s not supposed to be smiling, she came home empty handed, but damn you, always making her body form those involuntary reactions. she paces towards you slowly, small steps as her socks meet the wooden floor, and again— it creaks, this place is so damn old.

you take a wooden spoon, give the soup another swirl, and this time, you scoop it out with some warm, liquid deliciousness for her to savor. you can’t help but smile, when she stands besides you with her hand on the countertop and her legs crossed together. “have a taste” you grin, and your voice is warm and saccharine and it makes her forget— that she came back home empty handed. she shuts her eyes for a moment, before blowing on the spoon. you swallow a giggle, as her red-from-the-cold lips form a small puckering movement, and she responds with a huff and a small giggle herself. she can’t help it, and a drop of the soup leaks out of the spoon from the air her nose blows.

she takes it in her mouth, and hums when it hits her tastebuds. “taste’s amazing”; and you know it does, but still, your cheeks heat up at the compliment. “thank you” you reply, and it’s small but it’s sweet. she wants to tell you that you’re fucking adorable, standing here in your apron and cooking her food, but she feels quite shitty, so she doesn’t. “and… made some rice too” you note, gesturing with a finger, poking at one of the bowls. she smiles softly, but its not a real one. she blinks, and breathes deeply. “i’m not really hungry”. ellie looks down, and tugs at the bottom of your dainty apron. you stand there for a while, and it’s a moment of understanding. she stares at the floor, and the corner of her mouth twitches. it’s gnawing at her, and you know it. she feels guilt ridden, and you know that as well. you don’t begin the conversation yourself, tiptoeing around it as if it doesn’t exist. “ellie…” you sigh, breathy— and she immediately turns her face around to the opposite direction. you’re presented with her left, freckles splattered cheek. you caress it with the pad of your thumb, slowly, delicately, her skin still cold, and she winces. her eyebrows furrow, and a small line forms between them. she grabs your hand, places her calloused one on top of it, and peels it off her face. she doesn’t get abrasive, she’s gentle, but she needs it off. she feels too culpable, to deserve your touch. “i feel fucking useless” she puffs, and she doesn’t look you in the eyes when she says it. her eyes are closed, her bottom lip between her teeth. you bring your hand over again, to brush a short hair strand away from her face, and it’s still wet from the rain, or from the snow— you wouldn’t know, it’s coal black outside, it’s only the wind that sneaks itself inside from the tiny hole on the window’s glass, that turns the weather in. you can't help but smile, a soft chuckle escaping from your lips. useless, would be the last thing you could describe ellie as.

“i’m sorry… ellie, you’re being ridiculous”, and this time, she doesn’t push you away, she lets your hand play with the loose strand of hair, twirling it around your finger. she sighs, and lifts her chin up. it quivers slightly, and she rolls her eyes. you notice a certain twinkling glisten in her them, and god— she’s trying to halt the tear threatening to stream down her cheek, and flow like a bantam river. it doesn’t leak out, just finds home on her waterline. before she replies, she shakes her head. “i’m not being ridiculous, you… you fucking do everything for me— you cook for me, and you fucking clean, and…” she stops, and finally, she looks at you. “and i know your fucking back hurts, because you hang the fucking laundry— every day“ she’s rambling, and you’re watching with a soft expression, tilting your head. “every day, you do all of these fucking things, and i’m supposed to provide for you” she points at your chest, and the tear on her waterline finally gives in and takes a drive— lands directly on her top lip.

you’re speechless, doe eyed. you know she’s wrong, but you let her finish. “you… were…” with your finger on her lip, you wipe the tear away. she sighs deeply, and takes your hand in her’s, intertwining her fingers with yours. “you were supposed to bake that… shepherds pie, for christmas. and you were so fucking excited about it, you told dina, and fucking maria and tommy and now—“ she stops, and looks down on the wooden floor. its killing her. “because of me, you can’t” you open your mouth, attempting to sneak a word in, to protest, but she doesn’t let you. she’s stubborn. “because i’m fucking useless” and it stings, but it also… tugs, at your heartstrings, in the warmest, possible way. a tear threatens to erupt from your form as well. throat feeling clogged, you want to coo at her, explain, again— how ridiculous she’s being. how much you love how she cares, this… this is better than a shepherd’s pie, her love is better than everything you’ve ever tasted, you don’t need anything, anything other than her. instead of telling her that, instead of bursting into tears in a declaration of love, you mutter something else. you know that she knows how much you love her— now, you need to be practical, find a solution to the problem she had created.

“blueberry pie”

her eyebrows furrow in confusion.

“blueberry pie?”

you bob your head up and down twice before continuing, and now— it’s getting harder to hide your smile.

“i’ll bake a blueberry pie.” your voice is even sweeter than you had intended for it to come out, dulcet, dripping with honey… and blueberry jam.

she scoffs and adverts her look to the side, before placing her forehead on yours.

“but you were so fucking… excited, about having maria taste your shepherds pie…”

you cut her off, again, and nudge her shoulder. “are you saying… my blueberry pie isn’t as good?”

she rolls her eyes, playfully, you know that’s not what she meant. “everything you cook is fucking delicious…” she takes a deep breath, and the soft smile plastered on her face washes off. she’s grounded with reality, again. “but… i just… feel fucking powerless, like i can’t do shit for you” it’s foolish, really— she had just fixed the doorknob in the upstairs bathroom, built a goddamn patio, all by herself, and… powerless? you about pout, taken back from what she had said.

“powerless?… oh, ellie…”

she sniffles, and she wants to reply, determined to explain, she is powerless, this is all her fault, no fucking shepherds pie, she practically feels like the grinch who stole christmas, but you won’t let her succumb to her own wrath. you plant a kiss, a small, delicate one, right on her cheek. your bottom lip strokes her skin before you pull away, only to form a nest on her the crook of her neck. when you breathe her in, she smells of mud, of leaves, leathery and smokey. you take her in, brush the tip of your nose on her pulse, and you can feel, and almost see— the fine hairs standing up. she shudders, and places a tremor held hand on the small of your back. with one palm on her left shoulder, and the other on her right one, you pull her in. her mouth airs a small noise, almost a whimper but barely a sigh— a mixture of both. it escapes from her throat, and she brushes her thumb on you waist, up and down.

“you are everything…” now, you whisper in her ear, and she shudders. “but powerless” you breathe in, and kiss that one sweet spot behind her ear, you know it’s her favorite. a low grunt escapes her lips, and she squeezes your waist. as you trail soft, gentle as butterflies kisses on the side of her neck, she closes her eyes, and lets you soak her in. your soft chest is pressed against her’s, and she feels that “powerless” feeling depart from her body, like a violent swarm fleeing her chest. “do you know… how much power, you have over me?” your voice is ever so soft, and ever so… submissive. oh, she thinks she knows, but she's not sure.

her hand, maneuvers itself from the small of your back to lay just above your ass, her palm just resting there, caressing the fabric of the soft skirt you donned. with her chin resting on your shoulder, you continue your submission. “do you?” you mewl, and you want her to say yes, to accept it, but she doesn’t. “no” she replies, and truthfully, she only yearns to hear you say it. you plant another kiss on her neck, but this time, it’s an open mouthed one, with your tongue poking out, the soft muscle licking her flesh, making ellie let loose of a long, suppressed groan, to bite her lip as her eyes roll back.

“i think you do know…” and you truly can’t find the words, not when you’re that close, not when you breathe in her scent— not when her hand is on top of your ass, kneading the flesh now, just above the skirt. you whisper, a soft, breathy string of “you know… ellie” and when she takes the soft globe between her fingers, and squeezes, you finally breathe it out, oh god—

“daddy”

the low, throaty groan escapes almost automatically, a knee-jerk reaction, she feels the obscene nickname send a lighting strike between her legs, in her heart, in her brain— this is exactly what she needed to hear. your daddy, the only fucking one who can make you go like this, go this dumb and this needy and this eager to please. a harsh, ringing slap on your ass, still covered by the soft material, follows that very same groan. her other hand moves lower to knead it between her fingers again, clawing at the flesh, marking it as her’s. you mewl it again, “daddy”, and its breathless now, unable to stop, longer and needier— and the ring of the word “fuck”, that she mutters as a response, is bordering on primal.

“yeah?” she voices, raspy and deep, and you know you have clouded her mind now. powerless… who? you hum, when she grabs your tit between her hand, tugs at it and squeezes, twitches the nipple right over your bra, she knows exactly where it is, and exactly how hard to pinch it for her to hear her favorite sound in the whole entire world, that high pitched moan of her name. “let me show you, y—eah?” you stutter, and although it is not even a question, it sounds like you’re begging. “say it again” ellie orders, and although it is phrased as an order, it sounds like she’s begging. “daddy…” you whisper in her ear, kissing and licking her lobe, making her whimper a long, breathy sound of your name.

it is again, primal— how quickly and fervently she peels off the straps of your top, letting the skirt cascade off of your body— and when it comes to the frilly, little apron; “keep it on”, only taking the top part of it off, so your tits can spill out, on full display for ellie. before she takes the soft, silky smooth mounds between her lips— she spits, letting the string of her own saliva stream on the flesh, before it reaches your nipples, teasing her and flowing oh so slowly, before making the tender, now-hard buds glisten with slick. with her forehead on yours, her gaze is fixated upon them. you can feel her heartbeat, growing faster and faster. “fucking christ” she huffs, before smearing her spit on your nipples with the pad of her thumb. you wince and squeal when she flicks them left and right. “so sensitive, s’fucking cute” she coos, before latching her needy mouth onto them, sucking them in, leaving dark, purple marks the harder she sucks. she takes the nipple between her teeth, bites— here’s that fucking squeal of yours again, so she moans, never neglecting the other tit, her fingers toying with the nipple, moving it in small circles so you fucking cunt can feel it. with a loud “ahh” sound, she takes the sensitive bud out of her mouth.

when she looks at you, staring into your eyes, with a look that’s so impatient, and hungry, with a look that says “you’re fucking mine”, and "i fucking own you", you bite your lip so hard it almost draws blood. doe eyed, she takes your chin between her index and her pointer. she doesn’t need to mutter a word, before you’re down on your knees, hitting the floor with a thud. that’s ought to leave a mark. nevertheless, she’d love it, all of it. when she towers over you, with that dark gaze and those burning green eyes, it’s hard not to feel small, and powerless. except, you have all the power in the world. letting her have this, have you, that’s more powerful than it all.

she pats the top of your head, rubs it, and waits for your next move. you place your head on her thigh, and caress it, letting the harsh material of her jeans burn through your cheek. “there she is…” she coos, teasingly so, and places her thumb on your lower lip. she grazes it from side to side, toying with the plush, damp flesh.

“suck”

oh, you do. you suck it so hard you’re almost biting it, your cheeks hollowing, keeping your eyes on her while the obscene noises of her thumb inside of your mouth fill the room, wet and nasty and loud. she stares down, nodding to you, her nods saying “that’s my good girl” but her mouth shut and formed in a tight line, groaning as if you’re sucking on her goddamn cock, making that tickling pain right between her legs, covered by too many layers of fabric, grow more and more distracting. you can feel it too— that sensation, deep in your core. its hard, it's almost impossible, not to begin humping the floor. her pupils grow even larger in size when you start moaning around her thumb, worshipping it, worshipping her. she watches you, her mouth agape, chasing your eyes, and when you close them ever so slightly, she takes a sharp breath. "look at you..." she coos, and you know she means look at how pathetic you are, look at the drool running down your chin, making a mess, all for her. she gives a hum of satisfaction, and takes her thumb out of your mouth.

when you look at her again, you're transfixed, mind foggy with your eyes lazily half shut. she nods her head up and down, because she knows what you yearn to do next. you don't have to say a word, before she yanks the belt off of her pants, in one swift motion, and then— undoes the button, and the zipper as well. ellie throws the belt on the floor, violently so, and it makes your whole body jump with a squeal.

"awh... did i scare you?" she coos, and caresses her hand slowly, from the top of your forehead, running it all along the pillowy skin of your cheeks, to the bottom of your chin. with her index and her pointer, she grabs your chin, and lower's your head over so your eyes fixate on her jean-covered cunt. poor you, you wait for her to take them off. except, she doesn't. with her hand on the back of your head, she pushes you forward, making the tip of your nose graze her heat, and you swear to god himself— you can smell her already, you know that she's soaking, getting off on you sucking her thumb like that, getting off on your absolute submission to her. she has to restrain herself from using you fully, from bumping your head forward and forcing you to get her to cum through her pants, she knows she can— but instead, when she looks right into your eyes, those poor, glassy eyes, she gets down on her knees to face you. her expression softens, and she rubs her thumb on your cheek. you almost purr, tilting your head so you fit perfectly in it.

"you're so good to me..." she whispers, and chuckles softly when she sees the curl of your lip. "so good..." she repeats, and you hum, accepting her praise. she plants a soft, loving kiss on your forehead. "pretty little housewife... always takin' care of me, huh?" you nod, accepting again, although now, it feels as if she's purely speaking to herself. "always" you whisper back, nodding your head softly. "you wanna make me feel good?... hm?" she murmurs, trailing small circles on your cheek, moving her finger downwards lightly, so that it grazes over your sensitive nipple, and again— she toys with the bud, awestruck at how sensitive you get, chuckling when the sweet little squeal escapes your lips again.

"yes..." you reply softly, and it's breathy, the eagerness oh so apparent in your voice.

"f'course you do..."

she gets up from her knees, bit by bit, and leans her back on the fridge. you look up at her, and place your thumbs inside of her jeans. she nod's softly, signaling you that it's time now. take them off.

when you do, you whine.

her grey boxers, perfectly tight on her thighs, have a delicious, wet patch right where the fabric meets her hole. "mhh'ellie..." you whine, and she pulls her bottom lip between her teeth, inhaling deeply. "you're so wet..." you murmur against her skin, taking in what you did. you're copying her, imitating, she knows that. "all for me...?" you whisper, and then she tsk's. "dont play with me" she breathlessly huffs— but why? it's so much fun, after all.

"are you shy, daddy?" you question, and she feels her cheeks burning a crimson red. "shut up" she murmurs, and it's a half chuckle— half threat.

"you're so cute" you tease, a soft, adorable smile when you speak. "hey... hey—" she takes hold of your chin again.

"quit being a fucking brat, ju— oh... my.... god" in the midst of her sentence, your tongue met her clothed clit. eagerly, you teased it up and down with the tip of your pink muscle, and you felt ellie shaking.

her whole body tenses, as soon as you begin flickering it, taking her button between your teeth, not once daring to break your eye contact. your eyes scream submission, but your movements— scream mine. you flatten your tongue against her slit and her knees almost give in. with a fist on your scalp, her body— involuntarily, slips down slightly off of the fridge, her ass meets the metal with a thud, she's almost squatting.

her mind is clouded with chants of "fucking needed this"

you kiss it, nice and wet. "you like it, daddy?" bold, full on cocky and bratty is what you are. you know you made her desperate so you have the power to dare— and tease her on and on. she doesn't reply, a choked out whine coming from her throat. she mumbles incoherently, something that sounds like "you wait for your fucking turn and then you'll see" before she pulls down her boxers, grabs you by the back of your neck and pushes you in.

"fuuuuu" she chokes out, barely able to continue her words, when your lips wrap around her swollen clit, messily sucking it in. "just like... fuck— just like that..." now, she's purely controlling your motions, grinding on you. you flatten out your tongue with a whimper and incoherently breathe out; "da— ddy". with your voice choked up, mouth swollen and used, she looks down at you, her eyes threatening to close, and yet, she smiles. darkly so, and teasingly. "such a—" she grunts, a "psh" noise escaping her lips, "good— fucking girl..."

you can't help but let your hand wander down your skirt, squeezing and pinching and caressing your thighs like she'd do, teasing yourself all over your panties, rubbing your leaking hole as she fucks herself on top of you. when she notices your little hand circling your clit, she wants to coo, wants to warn you— but she doesn't. she chuckles, "can't fucking help... fuck—" you barely let her finish her sentence again, before you take her clit between your teeth and gnaw at it gently. "s'fucking much— can't even fucking help yourself— can you?" every word that leaves her mouth feels as if it's being held hostage, trying to escape, sounding muffled and choked up.

of course you need to cum when your mouth is on her cunt, of course you need to cum when she's using you like this, it's so obvious, it's so... you, she attempts to be feigned by it, but instead, she laughs. "go on... make yourself cum— g-go on" she stutters, and when she does, you suck harder on the bud than you've ever sucked in your life, with a sweet, high pitched moan. you almost have to physically push your fingers out of your cunt, whining as soon as the feeling of being empty washes over you, and then— you push them deep inside ellie’s tight, warm hole.

she barely has time to response, jolting at the intrusion, muttering a string of curse words under her breath, pulling her head back. "dirty— fuckin'..."

your juices mix with her's, and the sounds that your mouth leaves are obscene, wet and sticky, moaning like you've never tasted anything better in your life— which you probably hadn't. "you gonna cum, daddy?" you probe, breathlessly so, and it's humorous, that brave attitude that washes over you when she's a mess splattered against the fridge, bucking her hips and— cumming. all over your mouth.

you lick it up, suck all of the juices in, from her tight hole and then all over her slit, swallowing every last bit.

before you manage to get up, she lifts you up.

you both stand there for a while, forehead to forehead, not talking, barely breathing on each other.

you blink twice, and then once more.

"powerless?" you quip, silently.

she's breathless, and before she replies, she attacks your neck with sweet, soft kisses.

"you fucking.... you fucking—", she picks you up and you squeal. she pushes you against the counter and she... giggles?

"how did i fucking..." she pecks your lips, and pecks it again, and again, and again— you can't stop laughing, she's tickling you all over and the tears start forming in the corners of your eyes.

"how did get so fucking lucky?" she pecks again, on your cheek now. "huh?" she repeats, and fuck— that smile.

"how did i get so fucking... lucky"

how did she, truly?

"go upstairs and grab it" she orders, but waits for your response. "what?" you speak, in between sweet as honey giggles.

"up... stairs"

"what's upstairs?"

she tilts her head, and smirks.

"what's upst—... oh"

oh.

[honeyedmiller]

The Gift | Javier Peña

pairing: husband!javi x wife!reader

warnings: marriage, mentions of pregnancy (reader is pregnant!!!), reader described to be shorter than javi, mentions of the holidays (specifically christmas), mentions of starting a family, tooth-rotting sickeningly sweet fluff, brief mentions of a deceased family member, tiny uses of spanish with translations at the very end, no use of y/n. if any content warnings may not be suitable for you to consume, please do not read forward. 18+, minors dni.

word count: 3.4k

synopsis: you and javi do your yearly gift exchange with each other. your gift to him just so happens to be life-changing.

this is *technically* a part two to when you wish on a shooting star, but it can be read as a stand alone.

tysm to my bby @ilovepedro for beta reading this for me. you’re amazing ily ♥️

divider by @ dvluc

The bright streams of golden sunlight shining into your bedroom is what woke you up for the second time that morning. You let the warmth of the rays soak into your skin, knowing it was a chilly December day outside of the four walls of your shared home. 

The first thing that woke you up was your loving husband kissing you on your forehead and telling you he loved you before he went to work that morning. You’d been feeling extra sleepy lately, so he didn’t want to disturb you by fully waking you up. 

Your body just felt so exhausted, and you woke up with short waves of nausea in the recent mornings. You just painted it as stress from your own job, not thinking much of it. 

You groaned as you stretched, dreading getting out of your warm bed where the scent of your beloved husband engulfed the entirety of your body. You missed his presence already, wishing the warmth of his chest was pressed against yours as he peppered soft kisses all around your face. You found your mind swirling with longing for him, but you couldn’t get too distracted. 

You decided it was time to get up and straighten up the house since you had the day off. Next week was Christmas, and you and Javi held your annual Christmas party at your house every year, so you wanted to make sure the house was pristine for the guests you were to have over. 

After you brushed your teeth and washed your face, you made the bed and trudged downstairs, yawning as you reached the kitchen. Caffeine sounded heavenly right now, considering Javi kept you up most of the night. 

You made a fresh pot of coffee to brew, leaning against the kitchen island counter as your eyes roamed your kitchen. Your eyes landed on the pastel yellow sticky note stuck to your fridge, immediately recognizing Javi’s handwriting. You took the sticky note off of the fridge, eyes scanning over what he scribbled. 

Good morning, mi amor. Don’t forget we have our annual gift exchange tonight. Can’t wait to give you your gift, bebita. I also left you some chorizo and eggs in the fridge for you. Te amo para siempre.

-J

You grinned down at the endearing note and opened the fridge, and as promised, there was a small container with one of your favorite, simple breakfasts. You took the container out of the fridge and a pan from the cabinet, scooping the contents out of the container and onto the pan with a wooden spoon, turning on the flame to the stove to heat the food up. It looked mouth wateringly delicious at first, but when the smell of the food invaded the kitchen, you suddenly felt so nauseous. 

It was odd, because you usually loved the smell of the meal. You turned off the heat and abandoned the kitchen altogether after putting the food and coffee away, shaking your head as you made your way back upstairs. You sighed as you sat down on the bed, grimacing as the nausea slowly dissipated. 

Maybe breakfast wasn’t the best idea today. You got up again to officially get ready for the day, needing to stop at the store to get some items for your Christmas party before you came back home to tidy up. Luckily you and Javi kept your house neat, so cleaning wasn’t going to be a super tedious task.

You made a list of things you needed at the store and made the short drive over, checking off all of the things on your list. You passed the feminine products section, halting when you realized you needed to pick up some more pads. You spotted the pregnancy tests right next to the pads, and your mind reeled for a second. 

When was the last time you got your period?

You’d been so wrapped up in life recently and busy with work and preparations for the Christmas party that you hadn’t even realized your period never came this month. Again, you could’ve written it off as stress, but a tiny pit in your stomach was telling you to get a pregnancy test. You and Javi had been trying for a baby after you made an agreement at your little getaway trip for your third wedding anniversary in Lake Arrowhead. 

Now that you were both back in Laredo, reality broke the bubble of pure bliss you two were wrapped in. It was back to work, back to responsibilities, back to the mundane daily life—one that you absolutely adored getting to live with Javi. Nonetheless, time slipped away from you and you’d completely missed the fact that your period was late by nearly a whole month. 

You grabbed three pregnancy tests just to be extra sure of whatever outcome you’d receive. Your mind swirled with thoughts of the possibility that you were carrying your first child, but you didn’t allow yourself to delve too deep into those thoughts just yet. As you made your way to the checkout stand, you happened to pass the baby clothing section, spotting a pastel yellow newborn onesie that said “abuelo’s amorcito” in white lettering. 

You smiled and instantly thought of Chucho and how happy he’d be hearing the news that he was to expect his first grandbaby. You grabbed the onesie, possibly getting a little too ahead of yourself, but you’d save it and give it to him when the time came. 

Your heart fluttered as you made your way home after checking out all of your items, realizing that it was already two in the afternoon. Javi got home around four, so you had to hunker down when you got home to clean. You finished cleaning the backhouse you and Javi lived in in record time, moving to the living room of the main house to tidy up a bit. You still had about thirty more minutes to spare, so you took your tests to the bathroom with you. Once you were finished, you laid the tests down on the counter and washed your hands, sitting at the edge of the tub in anticipation. 

The five minutes you had to wait for the results to show up had to be some of the longest minutes of your life, face buried in your hands as your knee bounced up and down. Your breath was shaky as nerves took over you, the five minutes nearing an end. You stood up from the edge of the tub and made your way to the double vanity, squeezing your eyes shut while inhaling a deep breath. 

Now or never.

Your eyes shot open, only to be met with six pink lines meeting your gaze. Every single test was positive. You exhaled a shaky breath, a small sob bubbling within your throat as your hand covered your mouth. 

You couldn’t wait to tell Javi. 

You’d originally gotten him a nice watch that he had his eye on for a couple of months for the gift exchange knowing he’d never splurge on himself like that. He insisted that he splurged on you, though, to which you always argued ‘if you can do it, I can do it for you, too.’

You decided to save the watch for Christmas though, seeing as giving him a gift like this was far more heartwarming. Your eyes teared up at the thought of how great of a father Javi would be. You wrapped one pregnancy test delicately into a small box, wrapping paper covered in snowmen adorning the box. You wrapped the onesie for Chucho next, carefully writing on both boxes who the gifts were for. 

You hid the other two tests, making your way downstairs with the boxes in your hands. You set them both under the Christmas tree, wiping away a stray tear that had rolled down your cheek. 

“Mi amor, I’m home!” You heard Javi call out from the front door of your home, and you couldn’t help the smile that instantly appeared upon hearing his voice. 

You walked to the entryway of your home, seeing your husband set down his work bag onto the floor. 

“Well if it isn’t my handsome husband.” You say as you approach him, stopping in front of him to gaze up into his beautiful brown eyes. He instinctively wrapped his hand around your waist, pulling you into him so you were flush against his body. He smiles down at you, cupping your cheek. 

“If it isn’t my beautiful wife.” He counters back. Your hands travel up to his broad chest, running over the lapels of his beige suit he was wearing. 

“I missed you, mi amor.” You coo softly, one hand cupping the nape of his neck. 

“Yeah? I missed you too, baby.” His smile never wavers from his face as your free hand wraps around the dark plaid tie he wore, gently tugging on it to make him bend down. Your lips easily met his in one swift movement, and he groaned softly into the kiss. His hands slid down to your ass, grabbing it playfully before lightly tapping it and pulling apart from you. 

“Let me change out of my work clothes and then we can do the exchange, cariño. Papá made pozole for tonight.” 

“Sounds delicious. Meet you on the couch.” You huff a laugh, giving him a quick kiss before he makes his way upstairs to change. You make your way over to the couch, grabbing the smaller present that you’d tucked under the tree earlier along the way. You plopped down, nerves overtaking your body. You weren’t sure what his initial reaction would be, albeit you were sure it would presumably be a positive one. 

You heard his heavy steps descending the stairs, and his face lit up when he saw you sitting on the couch. He carried a small box in his hands, a boyish grin on his face as he made his way to the couch to plop himself down next to you. 

“You wanna go first, or should I?” He asks, hand resting on your thigh. The gift exchange you two did was a tradition you both started for yourselves the first Christmas you were together. You’d been doing it ever since, small heartfelt gifts to be exchanged between you both. Javi called it “the pregame to Christmas.” 

“You go first, amor.” You grin, heart leaping in your throat as you try to control your breathing and emotions overall. 

“Here you are, corazón. I hope you like it.” He hands you the small box and you grin at him, carefully tearing the wrapping. You uncover the contents in the box, revealing a silver charm bracelet with a charm already on it. It was a small inscription saying ‘siempre.’ Tears welled in your eyes as you took it out of the box, the shininess of the silver glinting from the glow of the Christmas tree lights nearby. 

“Javi, mi amor. It’s beautiful.” You cry, tears cascading down your cheeks. 

“You think so cariño?” His voice is soft, hands reaching out to wipe the tears from your face. You nod with a smile, eyes glossy and brows furrowed. 

“It’s perfect. Thank you so much.” You unclasp the bracelet and hold it out to him so he can put it on your wrist. He easily clasps it, the cold metal pressing against your skin. He lifts your hand to his lips, kissing your knuckles softly. 

“Your turn, baby.” Javi encouraged, and you cried even more as you shakily handed him your gift. You held your breath as he tore open the wrapping paper, opening the box to reveal the test. His movements completely halted as his eyes scanned over the contents in the box. 

His eyes snapped up to yours, glossy with tears threatening to spill over. You’d only ever seen Javi cry less than a handful of times since you two have been together, so seeing him so emotional made you sob. 

“Is this real?” He whispers, eyes moving back down to the test. 

You nod your head, both of your hands gently grabbing the sides of his beautiful face. 

“One hundred percent real, mi amor. We’re gonna have a baby.” You try your best to contain your sobs, but it’s useless at this point when your own husband is crying with you. He leans over to you, laying you down on the couch as he wraps his arms around your frame and just holds you. He nestles his face into the crook of your neck, salty tears skimming the warmth of your skin. 

Your fingers card through his dark, thick locks, holding him close as you kiss his head repeatedly, mumbling how much you love him and can’t wait to have his baby. 

Javi never thought he’d have this life. He never thought he’d be able to meet a nice woman, date, settle down, fall in love, get married; let alone start a family. 

He was a very different man when he’d left Colombia and came back to the states after taking down Escobar and the Cali cartel, so closed off and unwilling to picture or allow this kind of life for himself. The kind of life he deserves—working a good paying job at the Laredo Sheriff’s Office, married to the most gorgeous woman he’s ever laid his eyes on, reunited with his dad, content and fucking happy. 

He never thought he’d see the day, and yet here you were, laying underneath him and allowing him to cry into your neck about you being able to give him the best thing he could’ve ever asked for, which was a family of his own. 

After both of your sobs subsided and tears melted into a salty stiffness on your cheeks, he kissed your neck softly and hovered his face above yours. Your hands cupped his cheeks gently, pulling him down for a long, comforting kiss that said I love you I love you I love you a million times over. 

“We’re having a baby.” He breathed, a genuine smile that made his crow’s feet prominent adorning his face. You nod your head, leaning up to kiss the tip of his nose. 

“We’re having a baby, Javi,” You laugh as he starts to attack your face with an array of kisses, a deep chuckle rumbling in his throat. “I got something for Chucho too to tell him the big news.” You say against his lips, and he sits back up while gently tugging you up with him. 

“Yeah? I’m sure he’ll love whatever it is.” Javi’s heart warmed at the thought of you getting his father a gift as well to tell him that he was going to be a grandpa. 

You stand up from the couch and hold your hands out to Javi, making a grabbing motion to coax him to grab your hands. He does so without hesitation and you pull him up from the couch, hands landing on his chest afterwards. 

You beam up at him, a glint of pure happiness in your eyes as you let your gaze roam over his features. You still don’t know how you got this lucky, thanking the universe every day that an unlikely pair as yourselves met at an H-E-B of all places. 

“Te amo con todo mi corazón,” Javi wrapped his arms around your frame, pulling you into him as he hugged you. “Gracias por darme la vida que siempre quise.” 

Tears sprang to your eyes once more at his endearing words. “I’d go to the ends of the earth for you, Javier Peña. I promise you that.” You kiss him one more time before breaking away, collecting Chucho’s gift from under the tree before you both make your way to the main house. 

The chilly December air nipped at your skin, so you nuzzled closer into Javi’s side as you both walked down the stone path to the main house. For a second, you were worried that the smell of pozole was going to make you nauseous just as the chorizo and eggs did earlier, but you found it to be the complete opposite this time. You were practically salivating, ready to devour the delicious meal your father in law set out to make you three. 

You and Javier stepped into the kitchen, greeted by Chucho stirring the pot of pozole a few times before he saw you both. 

“Ah, mija! Thank you for cleaning the living room today. Haven’t been able to get around to it myself, so I appreciate it.” Chucho grins. 

“It’s not a problem, Chucho. Thank you for making us dinner. It smells delicious.” You say, setting the present down on the dining room table. 

“Not a problem, querida.” 

Javi prompts you and Chucho to sit down at the table as he takes over, grabbing bowls for the three of you. He serves you both before coming behind you to gently grab your shoulders, giving them a squeeze. You grin up at him and clear your throat, catching Chucho’s attention. 

“This is for you, suegro. I hope you like it.” You hand him the gift, and he looks bewildered as he takes it from you and starts to unwrap it. 

“You didn’t need to get me anything, mija–” His words are cut short as he opens the box, seeing the tiny onesie in it. 

“Surprise, Pop.” Javi says, and Chucho looks between his son and you in disbelief. 

“You’re having a baby?” His voice is full of shock, and you can’t help but reach across the table and squeeze one of his hands. 

“You’re gonna be an abuelo, suegro.” 

Chucho looked down at the onesie in his hands with tears pricking his eyes. You never thought you’d see the day that Chucho Peña got teary-eyed. 

“Tu mamá would’ve loved to see the day her baby boy was having a child of his own. One with a sweet, wonderful woman such as yourself, mija.” Chucho looked between you both with a bittersweet smile on his face. 

“I know, Pop. She’s looking down on us all, and I know she can’t wait to see what a wonderful abuelo you’ll be.” Javier moved to his father, giving him a comforting pat on his back. 

“Thank you both for blessing me with the opportunity of becoming a grandfather. I know you two will be the best parents. I love you both so very much.” Chucho put the onesie back in the box, grabbing your hand once more while shaking it. 

“We love you, abuelo Chucho.” 

Dinner was purely full of baby discussion after that, like name ideas you already had, what you think the gender will be, how you’ll want to decorate the nursery, when you’ll schedule a doctor’s appointment, and all things alike. You couldn’t lie, you absolutely adored every minute of it seeing the love of your life and a man who was such a prominent father figure in your life discussing even the most minute details about your child who you already know was so extremely loved. 

That night, you and Javi went to bed with smiles that you couldn’t seem to wipe off your faces. He kissed you and pushed up his oversized t-shirt you were wearing to bed, resting his head gently onto your stomach as he tenderly cooed into your soft flesh. 

“Hey there. It’s your papá. I can’t wait to meet you, pequeño. Your mommy and I love you so much already.” You grinned down at Javi, raking your fingers through his hair as he continued to babble on to your unborn child. You’d nearly fallen asleep at the soft timbre of Javi’s voice reverberating the four walls of your bedroom. Javi pulled down his t-shirt on you and kissed your forehead tenderly, wrapping you in his arms. 

“I love you, my beautiful wife. Thank you for choosing me and loving me the way you do. I can’t wait to become a father to our child.” Javi’s voice was raspy as it dwindled to a near-whisper, and when he got no response from you, he looked down to see you’d completely fallen asleep. 

You looked so peaceful. Javi smiled down at you as he softly kissed your forehead one more time before laying his head next to you, thanking the universe and all the shooting stars in the sky that you gave him the gift of a lifetime. 

-

translations:

te amo para siempre — i love you forever

te amo con todo mi corazón — i love you with all my heart

gracias por darme la vida que siempre quise — thank you for giving me the life i always wanted

suegro — father in law

pequeño — little one

tags: @party-hearses ; @tinygarbage ; @nostalxgic ; @bastardmandennis ; @catchallfangirl ; @lizzie-cakes

please lmk if you’d like to be added / removed from the tag list. 🖤

[little-forest-goblin]

Kitchen nightmares

Synopsis: Your husband, five, tries to cook dinner. It does not go as planned…at all.

“MOTHERFUCKER!”

Five was not having a good time. He so far has set an oven mitt on fire, an oven on fire and a pot on fire. How? he cant tell you. He just wanted to be nice and this is what happens? he has solved apocalypse after apocalypse and this is what defeats him? A fucking recipe for pasta?

Let’s go back to the beginning. It all started with you and his care for you. You have been working hard and your boss has rode your ass for the last few days and he had a day off. He wanted to use that day to cook a lovely meal for you and him to show that he cares and he wants you to relax and not stress. You know be a little romantic and take care of you tonight.

He found a recipe. Something delicious and simple. A creamy garlic pasta. Simple right? WRONG! ITS BECOME THE BANE OF HIS EXISTENCE! He just wanted to make you a pasta and some garlic bread. Simple, delicious and indulgent. He just wanted to take care of you tonight but the world has other plans.

It started when he was making the sauce. The sauce would come out too bland or too salty and he had to restart a couple times which ended up with him having to get more cheese and heavy cream. When he finally got the sauce right, in his haze of victory, he set the oven mitt to close to the stove and it burst into flames as he was putting water into a pot for the noodles. He smelt a burning smell, turned around and about had a heart attack.

Once the fire was put out he had to throw that whole entire oven mitt away along with the sauce. I guess it’s jarred pasta sauce tonight. So after that he decided let’s just do the noodles. He got the pot on the stove and the heat up so it can boil. He left for a little bit so the water could boil without being watched. After-all a watched pot never boils and besides whats the worst that can happen? Oh boy was he surprised. He smelt a burning from the bedroom. He quickly got to the kitchen to find the pot on fire. how the fuck did that happen?!?! He quickly got that under control only to find the reason why it lit on fire. Some ashes were on the stove where he put the pot and it lit on fire causing the pot to alight. He was livid cause the pot was ruined.

He said fuck it you know what fine. Garlic bread makes everything better. you are going to get something good whether it’s small or big or depends on his whole damn life! He is determined to show that he loves you and cares about you and wants to help you relax!

Well that went wrong immediately. He got the garlic bread into the oven but at what cost? It seems as though a garlic bread was a little too close to the edge of the pan, slid off and set ablaze the oven yet again. After the third heart attack he sat on the kitchen floor in defeat. He tried to he really did.

You got home some while later to the see the train wreck of a kitchen and your defeated husband. He looked at you clearly upset “Hi, honey”

Your eyes softened and came over to him and crouched down in front of him taking his hands in your own “Darling what happened in here? Are you okay?”

He shook his head “I tried to make dinner for you and me and it just didn’t work i wanted to show you how much i love and care about you but it just kept getting ruined”

You smiled softly and “Baby you didn’t have to you know that? i know you love me and i appreciate what your doing.”

He pulled you into his arms “I know but you have been working so hard and i just wanted you to be taken care of tonight since your always taking care of me too”

Oh how you wonder how you got such a wonderful husband. You held him tight. You explained to him how grateful you are for him and that he already takes care of you enough. He felt better now. You and him just ordered some pasta and relaxed on the couch and then snuggled in bed for the night. You felt so loved by him for his care and consideration for you and he felt so loved by your understanding and care for him. Needless to say mission: Make the night relaxing after a lot of work was successful.

———————————————————————

Hi guys! i hope you are having a wonderful day or night and i hope you liked my story and if you have any requests for a story please let me know and i will see what i can do! love you guys ❤️ 😘

[promptthebear]

Could you do a 🐰 Drabble with Peter for 27?? Or anyone really, I just think that it needs to get out in something thank youu

Below the Belt

Tormund Giantsbane x Fem!Stark!Reader

Summary: Tormund is in love with you. It isn’t reciprocated, and a little wager goes horribly wrong.

CW: Swearing. Tormund behaving like a little boy with a crush, think pulling pigtails for attention. Kind of enemies to lovers dynamics but not quite. Mild implications that the reader has been abused. 2nd person, reader is referred to as "you"

A/N: I’m baaaaaaaccckk! This is my first time writing for Tormund so pls be nice.

Tormund was bored, which meant he had gone from being a tolerable pest to the biggest, loudest nuisance in all the Seven Kingdoms. Even worse, he had somehow used the ale soaked lump he called a brain to convince himself that he was besotted with you. And so, since Brienne had found you wandering through the ass end of the North and started bringing you back to your half brother on the Wall you hadn’t known a moment’s peace.

“Can’t you make him shut up?” you begged the lady knight one evening, not even bothering to hide your desperation. You’d been through a lot these last few months, far too much to have stupid stories about she-bears and giant’s tits be the thing that finally broke you.

“Trust me, my Lady,” Brienne replied, not even glancing up from where her whetstone slid across the edge of her blade “If I knew how, I would’ve done so the moment I met him.”

You glanced over your shoulder to shoot Tormund a withering look. As though he knew he was being discussed, the giant Wildling met your glare with a broad smile and a wink. You scoffed, tugged your cloak tighter around your shoulders and stared into the meagre flames of your small campfire. Perhaps if you looked at it long enough and wished hard enough, it would suddenly blossom into a full hearth complete with a pot of mulled wine and aurocs on a spit. And perhaps, dragons would live again and every last one of the Lannisters would drop dead by morning.

“Y’cold, beauty?”

The first time you’d heard Tormund address someone as such, it had been Brienne. However, when she’d shoved the tip of her sword against the hollow of his throat and told him she’d forsake her honor without hesitation should he even think about calling her that again, he’d awarded the title to you. You’d also threatened his life in increasingly creative ways whenever he did so, but unfortunately your words didn’t have the same impact as Brienne’s. Instead, they only seemed to spur the stupid man on and multiply his interest in you tenfold.

“No,” you shot back, your tone just as icy as your frozen toes. “Not in the least.”

“Then why are you shivering?” Tormund asked, eyes gleaming “A delicate little southron blossom like you isn’t meant to sit in the snow.”

“I’m from the bloody North, Tormund. How many times need I tell you?!”

The giant made a rude noise in response, blowing air between his lips and shaking his head.

“No, girl. I’m from the North. The Real North. You Winterfell lot and your ilk are nothing more than a lot of Southern twats who wandered too far up the coast and were too busy freezing your arses off to bother going back.”

“Lady-” this came from Podrick, who usually was too shy to say much to you but even he could recognize that Tormund had taken things a step too far. You were on your feet and bearing down on the Wilding before you even really understood what was happening.

“How dare you?! How dare YOU?! I am a Stark. My ancestors were the Kings of Winter. My father, his grandfather and his great grandfather were all Wardens of the North. We are descended from the First of Men, we drove the Andals out of Westeros and brought Kings to their knees. We have endured for hundreds of years, and thrived where lesser men have withered. Our crypts go as far back as-”

As quickly as your tirade began, it stopped with the faint sound of your teeth clicking as your jaw snapped shut. Echoes of your enraged speech bounced around the clearing, your righteous anger drifting up into the bare branches of the skeleton trees and into the black night sky beyond. Your cheeks still burned hot with ire and your chest heaved, your breaths coming in shaky huffs while your hands fisted and tangled around handfuls of your skirts. Were it not for the love you bore your late mother, you would have reached out and shook Tormund’s neck until it snapped. Because even after the earful he’d just gotten, the fucking fool was laughing at you.

Not just a little chuckle, either. Tormund’s head was tossed back against his shoulders, his mouth open wide while tears streamed from his eyes, laughing as though he would never stop. The flush on your cheeks quickly turned from one of anger to one of embarrassment. Of course. You had fallen right in to his trap. Tormund had wanted you to become angry with him, he had poked and prodded at you the same way a bear might be baited at a feast. The intent was the same too. He was looking for amusement. Gods, how you wanted to kill him.

Eventually, the Widling man managed to quiet himself down to the point where he could speak in between a few sparse chortles though it took several deep breaths and even then, his shoulders still shook with lingering mirth.

“Well,” he said, dabbing at his eyes with the edge of his cloak “You certainly sound like a Northerner, and you’ve shown me that pretty hair of yours is for more than just good looks. But, I’m afraid you’ll always be a little Southern princess to me. Unless…”

While you sported your father’s grey eyes and your mother’s red curls, you hadn’t inherited their stoicism or their tact. You were far too often entirely bound to the whims of your temper, especially when someone waved a challenge so obviously right beneath your nose. The clever thing would have been to walk away and leave Tormund stewing for the night, but the temptation to put him in his place was far too strong.

“Unless what, you blithering idiot?”

Tormund grinned, his blue eyes turning soft as though you were cooing sweet nothings rather than barking insults. He then rose to his feet and strode over to you, his long legs closing the distance in a matter of seconds. You’d expected him to at least have enough sense to stand at arm’s length from you, but that was far too much to demand of his simple intellect. No, Tormund didn’t stop until he was practically standing on top of you, so close you could feel his breath ghosting across the crown of your head and smell the dampness on his cloak.

The sound of a sword unsheathing made you glance quickly over your shoulder, where you saw Brienne now standing with her weapon drawn. You gave a subtle shake of your head, to which she responded with an equally short nod though you noticed she didn’t remove her hand from her hilt either. You stole a brief look at Podrick as well, though the young squire had little more to offer you than a half hearted shrug.

Grumbling under your breath, you turned back to face Tormund. The sudden closeness now meant that you could no longer look the man in the eye without craning your neck upwards or taking a few steps back. Not wanting to seem intimidated by his nonsense, you chose the former and fixed the Wildling with a searing gaze. Tormund chuckled in response, the sound as rich and dark as Dornish wine. A unwanted, tingling warmth began to grow in your belly but you quickly squashed it with a hard bite to the inside of your cheek.

“Alright little one,” the giant said so softly he was nearly whispering “You want to be a real Northerner? Then show me. Show me you’re more than just talk, and I’ll believe you.”

You wrinkled your nose, but didn’t break from his stare. It felt as though his deep, ocean blue eyes were boring right in to the depths of your soul.

“How?”

Movement at Tormund’s hip made you flinch involuntarily, which caused his brow to crease in concern. However, when you didn’t react further he pushed aside his cloak and pulled out a stone knife with a bone handle. You stared at the flint blade, watching the way glinted in the faint firelight.

“If you can take this from me in the next minute or so, then I’ll believe you’re truly a Northerner…” he paused and drew in a sharp breath “And, I’ll be yours. Mind, body and soul, from now until my dying breath.”

You let out a derisive snort.

“Is that it? Truly? You’re betting your freedom on whether or not I can take your poxy knife? Tell me Tormund, are all Wildlings this stupid or are you the exception?”

You couldn’t help but relish the way the ever present grin fell from the giant man’s face. Clearly, his little proposition hadn’t garnered the reaction he’d been hoping for.

“I’m exceptional in more ways then you know, beauty.” He replied, quickly regaining his composure and leering openly at you “Though perhaps it isn’t quite fair to pit such a sweet little thing against a mighty warrior such as-”

Whatever Tormund was going to say next would forever remain a mystery. Instead, all that could be heard was a faint, guttural sort of choking sound. Tormund quite looked like he was choking too. His pale skin had turned almost as red as his hair, while his mouth hung open in a silent gasp and his wide eyes stared blindly down at the snowy ground.

“How?” he sputtered, bent double with his hands clutched over his loins.

“Easy,” you replied, tossing his knife from your right hand to your left “I have two older brothers. Three, if you count that traitorous Greyjoy fucker. When needs must, I know where to hit.”

Tormund drew in another deep breath, which was followed by a series of coughs and a few strangled laughs. For some reason, this made you grin all the wider. Even after taking a full on strike to the bollocks, Tormund could still find a reason to laugh.

“Clearly, I underestimated you girl.”

“Clearly.”

You gently placed the tip of the knife beneath Tormund’s chin, slowly tilting his face upwards so he was looking you in the eye. He looked at you as though he had just discovered his own personal goddess, and he was about to become your most devoted worshiper. The tingling warmth erupted in your gut again, though this time you didn’t try to stop it.

“Do you yield?” you asked, keeping your voice low so only Tormund could hear you. He nodded as much as the knife would allow, and swallowed hard before answering.

“Yes.” came the reply.

“And do you promise not to call me a southerner anymore?”

“Yes.”

“Good.” you said, giving Tormund’s cheek a rough pat before straightening and turning round to face Podrick and Brienne. The young squire was gawping at you with renewed fear in his eyes, while Brienne was grinning at you from ear to ear. It was the happiest you’d seen her in months.

“Will one of you please see to him?” you asked, your voice practically dripping honey “It would be a shame if our journey was delayed because Tormund was too sore to sit a saddle.”

As you began to walk away, snow faintly crunching under your boots, you saw Podrick dart past from the corner of your eye. He immediately went to Tormund, bending at the waist so he could better assess the Wilding for damage.

“Are you alright…Sir?” you heard him say hesitantly

“Oh look,” came Tormund’s reply, sounding far too pleased for someone in his condition “My will to live. It’s gone.”

[redfoxwritesstuff]

A Misdemeanor Of The Heart: Chapter 19 (Human Alastor x Married Reader)

Chapter Trigger Warnings: Fluff, a little angst, Alastor thinking too hard about feelings, more damp Alastor

Prev Masterlist AO3 KoFi

Alastor pulled the pan out of the icebox as you looked around his kitchen., taking in the sight of warm, worn woods. You ran finger tips over places where stain had been worn away by years of work, refinished by someone who didn’t bother to touch the color up. Everything was older, clearly not updated with the quickly improving technologies and style standards of the time. 

It reminded you of home in a way your own home did not. It reminded you of home from your childhood, not as it was now, updated, but how it had been when you were a girl, sneaking into the kitchen to steal a buttery roll before dinner had been served. The room, no- the whole home from what you’d seen, had a warmth to it you doubted your own home would ever have. Alastor’s home was one that could raise happy families. 

It felt strange, padding around a home with nothing but your stockings on your feet. You didn’t even go around your own home without your house shoes on your feet. There was a comfort in the action too, much like the rest of Alastor’s home. 

Shaking your head, you tried to bring yourself back to the present. There was nothing to be gained thinking about how the home made you feel. To keep you grounded in the present, you tried to make yourself useful. 

“What can I do to help?” you asked, fingers twisting together as Alastor set the pot on the stove.

Alastor looked over his shoulder at you as he made his way to the stack of firewood off to the side. He hummed for a moment as he bent, picking up a two hunks of split log and a handful of kindling from the bin along the kitchen wall. The scraping of splintering wood against itself was loud in the quiet room. 

“Only relaxing,” he said after a moment of thought. “I doubt you get to do much of that.” 

“No,” you said as you settled into the chair at the humble dining table, fingers tracing scratches in the finish, “I suppose I don’t.” 

“Is Jambalya alright?” Alastor asked as you watched him grab a match from a hanging tube near the stove and strike it along the surface, lighting it with practiced ease. After shifting the wood around a bit more, he stuck the match inside the body of the stove and watched as it caught dry kindling. He knelt and watched as the flame spread, catching the wood before he closed the door to the stove. “It’s from last night.” 

“I’m sure it’s fine,” you said, rather more unsure than you wanted to let on. You couldn’t remember a time you’d eaten food prepared by a man that wasn’t a a cook by profession. The idea of your father, brothers, or even Laurence in the kitchen was frankly comical. 

“I assure you, it’s more than simply fine.” Alastor teased as he put the pan on the stove, stirring the contents with a wooden spoon after he set the lid aside. As the food warmed, the delicious aroma of spices and cooked meats filled the air. 

You sat and waited, listening to the sounds of cooking and Alastor’s humming along with the jazz floating in from the main room. It was a battle, but you forced yourself to remain in place, not taking over tasks that didn’t belong to you as he dished the food up into chipped bowls. 

It clinked softly against the worn wooden table as he sat the serving in front of you. It was a generous helping, more than you would have given yourself, more than Laurence would have allowed you to have. The spices smelled divine as you took in a deep breath. 

Taking the first bite, you found the food was as good as it smelled, much to your delight. One bite followed the first and soon you fell into the steady rhythm that came with sharing a relaxed meal together. 

There was an ease in eating with Alastor. It was comfortable at the well loved dining table, tucked off the side of the kitchen rather than in some cold, formal dining room. 

You were not even sure he had one. The home was small but not cramped, leaving little room to hide a dining room. Comfortable. Warm. The heat from the woodstove pushed the damp cold out of the air, but you knew it was far more than that. 

“Did you grow up here?” You asked as you traced more scratches on the table. Your father would have lost his mind if he caught you scratching up the table, but you were far from innocent of such childhood acts of destruction like the ones you ran your fingers over. 

“In this very house,” Alastor smiled softly. “Mother worked hard to ensure we could keep it. I wouldn’t dream of parting from it now.”

“And your father?” The question brought as close to a frown across Alastor’s face as you could remember ever seeing. 

“He left when I was just beginning to grow into a young man.” Alastor said tensely. 

“I’m sorry.” You reached out for his hand before you thought twice. “I can’t imagine a father leaving.” 

“It was for the better.” Alastor’s smile returned, though soft, as he looked down at your smaller hand covering the back of his. 

“Your mother worked hard to provide a home for you. I think that’s admirable.” 

Alastor stood, slipping his hand out from under yours as the record ended. He walked quickly into the living room, pausing when he knew he was out of sight of you to run his fingers through his hair, curls catching in his fingers as he raked back his hair. 

He forced his breathing to slow and tried to will his heart to do the same. This was ridiculous. He was being ridiculous. There was no reason for the touch of a woman, why your touch should send his heart into a fit. It wasn’t the first time he’d had your hand in his, nor was he some inexperienced young man. 

There was no reason you should get to him so much. There was no reason for you to worm your way under his skin like you did. Unless?

No, that was out of the question. Alastor shook his head as he crossed over to the record player and put on a new selection. Mimzy’s constant pestering was getting to him. That was all there was to it. She was getting in his head and left the door open for you to get in too. 

“I’m sorry if I overstepped.” Your voice was soft from the doorway. The downside, Alastor realized, of having shoes off to keep the floors cleaner meant it was harder to hear you move through his home. He wasn’t used to having guests in his space. 

Alastor looked at you, eyebrow raised as he stood in silence. The gas lamps cast warm firelight into the space, reflecting off the curls in his hair, messy, wild and soft. You couldn’t help but wonder if he knew how he looked, how it broke your heart and made you long for a life you didn’t even know you were missing out on before now. 

He was the picture of domestic bliss, black socks on warm wood floors, firelight. You longed for a life where this was the home you maintained, welcoming the kind man home after his day of work wrapped up and he shook off the illusion of the day. 

Holding his hand out to you, he invited you closer. Hesitantly, you slowly made your way to him,

“Not at all, my dear. Just putting on another record.” His hand took its place low on your back as you reached his side. Did he know how you longed for the weight of his hand on your back when you were alone with your thoughts? “Do you have a preference?”

“No, not really.” You shook your head, wishing you did. “Laurence doesn’t-” 

“I know,” Alastor’s voice was soft as he dropped his hand from you, switching the record out for another he picked seemingly at random. “He doesn’t let you indulge in the joys of life.” 

“No” Why did you feel like crying in that moment? “He dosen’t.” 

“Ma cherie, why the frown? This is not a sad song.” He took your hands in his and smiled down at you, eyebrows furrowed in an adorable contrast that had your frown softening. 

“Perhaps this song isn’t,” you whispered as Alastor tugged you to him, swaying your bodies together to the music. This wasn’t the classical music Laurence would favor, but that did nothing to hamper Alastor’s ability to lead you through a slow dance that had your heart hammering in your chest. “But isn’t my life just comically so?”

“How do you mean?” Alastor asked, face too close to yours but you didn’t mind. In fact, you leaned into his touch hoping he’d indulge. 

You felt so painfully safe with him. it wasn’t fair. He had taken liberties time and time again, discounted social boundaries left and right. Touching you like doing so meant nothing more than touching the spine of a book at the booksellers. 

Even now, alone in his home with him, you felt safe. Not once had Alastor pushed more than you would allow him. It left you wishing he would push for more, that he would lean down and kiss you as he spun you around the small living room, leaving you no space for your thoughts. 

“I could care for you, Alastor, deeply. You’re so reckless with our friendship. How could I not fall into the trap of caring for you far too deeply?”

“You say that like it’s a problem.” Alastor whispered as he spun you out of his arms, only to tug you back to him, keeping just enough space to barely be proper. 

“Isn’t it?” You whisper, hand on his chest as his hands return to their place, taking your other hand up in his. His hand on your hip guided you through the steps. Though you stumbled, tripping and stepping on his feet, he didn’t so much as flinch. 

“I should get back home,” you said, though you didn’t want to leave the bubble of his home. “I’ve got to get the cleaning done and start dinner.” 

“What if you were home?” Alastor’s hand tightened around your waist, knowing he was pushing you. 

“It’s a lovely daydream.” You sighed, torn between looking away from him to hide the way your eyes burned with tears as he spun you around the living room and keeping them locked on him, refusing to leave the shelter of the illusion he offered but surely did not mean. 

“One more dance?” Alastor asked as the song ended. “Then I’ll take you back to the life you don’t deserve to live.” 

His heart swelled as you agreed with a timid nod. Why he needed the last dance so badly, he couldn’t understand. He didn’t want to take you back. He didn’t want your time together to end. 

It would just leave him craving more of your time. Why? 

You tripped over his foot again, same mumbled sorry falling from your lips, though you hardly caused him pain. It was clear you were not a practiced dancer, but you followed his lead well enough and he enjoyed catching you when your stumbled steps risked sending you tumbling to the floor. 

What if Mimzy was right? He didn’t want her to be, but did it really change anything? He had planned to take you from Laurence, anyway. He had toyed with the idea of making you his anyway, letting you be the cover for his lack of desire. Was it really much of a problem if he were to care for you just a bit more than he had another?

He had wanted to deliver you to the front door. It was only proper to do so, but that would be far too risky. With the wet weather, too many people eager to gossip will be sitting in windows looking out on the streets. Anyone who looked to be out of place would find itself dissected, picked apart in the micro social circles of reading groups and knitting circles.

All they could risk was a pass by the front of the house, rolling by just slowly enough to get a good look inside windows and examining the driveway. The car had to keep rolling down the street, fast enough to not raise eyebrows. They had to ensure that there was no sign of your husband’s car in the driveway or any sign of his presence within the home.

Alastor was far less eager to return you to your home than he had been to pick you up. The rain had tapered off to a light drizzle, weighing heavily in the air and ensuring the feeling of dampness long overstayed the drops of rain themselves. Gloom clung to the both of you as he held the car door open for you, sheltering you from the rain as you stepped outside. 

The umbrella was an ever present could over you, held by Alastor as he led you through the trees behind the park. His eyes burned with something you couldn’t understand as he looked ahead, ensuring you steps were sure and safe. He moved branches and brush out of your way, letting you make your way through the forest while remaining fairly dry. 

It went against every urge in his body, even those new desires he failed to understand or have words for, to deliver you to the one place he knew without a doubt would see you in pain. His palms itched, fingers twitching in an ever present physical manifestation of his restless mind. 

Rain dripped onto his head, running through his curls as he did his best to keep you dry under the umbrella. You wore his long coat over your day dress, far too large for you. Yet another layer of protection for you against the rain that would raise questions for the man who would desire to do nothing more than ruin you. 

He watched you as you walked, lost in his own thoughts and you yours. You made such a sight, stepping through the underbrush carefully. Water gathered on the toes of your shoes, reflecting the dim light up at him. 

Did you know how uniquely beautiful you were, stepping between branches and dodging greenery heavy with rain? 

He didn’t think so. 

You seemed to be amusingly unaware of the pictures you made in his mind, the way they lingered like photographs he could never hope to capture. An unassuming beauty, hidden away in the shadows. How cruel that you were married to another before he found you! If he had met you years ago, in a lifetime where you were still unattached, would he have known you for what you were then? 

He stopped just in front of the big apple tree in your yard, standing on the edge of the forest holding your hand in his as he looked between the looming house and you. Was your heart beating as fast as his? Were you feeling the same indescribable feeling he was? Would you have a name for it? 

Was it was he feared it was?

“What is it?” Your voice pulled him from his thoughts and then your soft fingers were slipping under the curls draped across his forehead as you checked him for fever. Such an innocent gesture and yet so forward. “Are you sure you’re alright? You’ve been disappearing.” 

“Disappearing?” Alastor laughed. “I wasn’t aware I was performing magic tricks.” 

You couldn’t help but laugh at his joke, drawing a bright smile to his face. Another vision, another picture he could only hope to capture in his mind. It was madness, what you were doing to his mind. How pictures of you seemed to litter the corners where bloodshed and disgust had only lived before. 

“You’re so…” your words died off as your eyes locked with his. 

“I’m sorry, my dear, I’ve been thinking.” Was that fear that crossed your face? Alastor reached out, caressing your cheek with the backs of his long fingers. You still flinched when he would reach out for you, he noticed. It was a subtle movement, one that betrayed years of abuse your body and mind were conditioned to accept. You would flinch and then you would lean into him, a timid little cat only beginning to learn that a man could do something other than cause pain. 

“About?”

“I enjoy seeing you,” Alastor started, voice soft and shifting as it felt like a struggle to maintain the accent that he usually found came naturally. “A lot.” 

You opened your mouth to say something, but he only shook his head. 

“I can’t keep calling the house,” Alastor said, fingers ghosting down your neck and along your shoulder. “The operator will notice. Word will spread and there’s always the risk that he will answer.”

“He’s been staying out longer,” The idea of Alastor’s calls breaking your day up and whispering temptation to put aside your housework and see him ending when they’d only just begun broke your heart. You didn’t get to listen to his voice while he worked in the evening. You didn’t want to lose the little nuggets of his attention you could snag. “He’s been working so much we’ve hardly been out.” 

Alastor’s head cocked, “Do you really still think it’s working he’s doing?” 

“I don’t know, it’s… it’s what he says-.” 

“He’s not faithful to you.” Alastor wasn’t sure why that mattered to him. He needed to know that you knew your husband held no candle for you in the face of the reality that you may not clearly remember what you had seen or heard at the speakeasy. Returning to his intended conversation with a shake of the head, he continued, “What I wanted to say was that I cannot keep calling, making plans with you when another can so easily listen in. As this… thing between us grows, it’ll only become more obvious to the city if we’re sloppy. Does he come out back?” 

“No,” You shook your head. Alastor was treated to the view of your face in the afternoon sun, peeking out from between the breaks in the heavy clouds, from different angles as your hair shifted with the action. Such a strange thing for him to find himself aware of. “He hires a landscaper to maintain the property, but they’ve been coming less and less lately. He’s not fond of the outdoors, in all honesty.”

“This tree,” Alastor reached out, running a hand over the rough bark of the apple tree, looking up for a moment at the branches dotted with the starts of flowers before handing you the umbrella. “There’s an old rabbit den here.” 

“There is?” you asked as he knelt, moving long grass aside as he showed you the opening under a root, deep and abandoned. 

“I can get back here without him seeing, even if he’s home. If I was careful enough, even if he was outside, I’d be able to get back here and slip notes in. Would you be able to come get them?” 

“It’s not uncommon for me to come out back for air,” you said, crouching down next to Alastor to look at the hole. “If he’s home and in a mood, I wouldn’t, but how would I know when I need to find a way out?” 

“You’d just have to check.” Alastor shrugged. It wasn’t a perfect solution, but it was something. “I’ll keep a lighter in the hole so you can burn the notes. When I’m here, I’ll flash it a few times in case you’re looking. He doesn’t seem the type to sit at the window.” 

“What if I wanted to leave you notes?” You chewed your lip, wincing at the way your teeth scraped against the healing split in the flesh. It was an injury that was becoming more common. Though the beatings had lessened, Laurence was more likely to slap your face in the last two weeks, something he usually avoided for the need to maintain appearances. 

“You could,” Alastor took her hand in his, “If you wanted to. I can swing by and check a few times a week, maybe more.”

“Our own personal mailbox,” you mused as Alastor stood. He held his hand out to you, helping you to stand again as well. 

“Indeed, now let me walk you to the door. Can’t have you getting wet, can I?” 

You walked arm in arm with Alastor, nestled into his side. He kept the umbrella over you, continuing to sacrifice his comfort to ensure you were dry as you walked across the back lawn and to the back door. 

In what felt like just a moment, he was standing on the back stoop with you. It felt normal to deliver you to the door. He liked the feeling, though he’d give anything to be delivering you to your father’s doorstep and not this one, but that was alright. He would make the best of it. 

He was brought to you for a reason. You were brought to him for a reason. No one else could free you. No one else was strong enough to kill for you. No one else was deserving of you.

Alastor stepped into your space, wrapping his arm around you before he thought it through. His shirt was damp with rain and for a moment fear clawed at him as you stood stone still. Then your arms moved, wrapping around him and soothing the fear as you held him to your body just as tightly as he was holding you.

Part of him wanted to hate you for the way you had brought fear into his heart. Part of him soared with the thrill of it. When had he last felt fear of anything? Of anyone?

“Can I see you again?” Alastor asked as his fingers ran down your back. “Tomorrow?” 

The game changed, Alastor knew that. His heart raced at your soft agreement. He didn’t need to feel the way you sighed into his chest or the way your head tucked ever so easily under his to know he had never understood the game he had set out to play. 

It didn’t matter. What mattered was the fact that Alastor had always been a quick study, sharp and keen. This may be a new game, one he had never played before, but that didn’t matter. 

Alastor would win this game, of that he was sure. 

He would win, no matter the cost.

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cooking something special

pairing: san x reader

genre: fluff, insecurity so teeny bit of hurt/comfort

words: 1.7k

warnings: burn injury, language (barely once), suggestive

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You hissed as your finger caught the edge of the boiling pot you had just dumped veggies into. In your rush you were being careless. You barely had two seconds to run the burn under cold water before the timer was ringing, and you ran to the oven to pull out the pie you were baking. Trying to be extra careful, you gingerly pulled the pan out, only to crumble when you saw that the crust had burned. You had checked it barely four minutes ago, and it was fine!

You set the pie down on the cooling rack and stared at it sadly for a beat. Before you could wallow and throw in the towel, the bubbling noises from the stove alerted you to the stew you were still in the process of cooking. 

You huffed and stirred the spoon as you watched the stew like a hawk. You were not going to sit down or take your eyes from this for a second lest it burn too. Half of your planned meal had already failed, you’d be damned if this half was unsuccessful, too. 

It’s true that cooking was not your forte, but you had just been wanting to do something nice for your boyfriend for once. He showered you with such love and tender care all the time that your heart could burst. And you were so happy with him- you just wanted to give him a fraction of the happiness he gave to you. 

The heat was starting to get to you. You could feel that your face was flushed and probably bright red from the combined heat of the open flame on the stove and the still-running oven. Your hair was starting to stick to your neck uncomfortably, but a quick glance to your wrist confirmed that you didn’t have your usual hair tie on you. And there was no chance you were leaving the food unsupervised for even a second again, so you resolved to just stand there miserably and hope the sacrifice was enough to make the meal you were cooking turn out at least edible. 

It had been five minutes of watching the veggies slowly soften and cook and stirring so often that your arm was starting to cramp, when you were suddenly startled by arms around your waist. 

You jumped and half turned to see that San was home early. “You scared the shit out of me!” You smiled and half heartedly swatted his arm that was around your stomach . 

His chuckle reverberated against your back. “Sorry, baby. I did try to call to you a few times but..”

“Oh, I probably couldn’t hear you because the exhaust was on.” You gestured up at the hood of the stove which was noisily blasting air. 

“Yeah, speaking of. What are you doing?”

You turned in his arms but just enough so that you could still side eye the pot. He came to stand beside you at the stove instead of behind you. 

You looked up at him, wide eyes earnest. “I was just trying to do something nice for you, San.”

He dimpled at you. “That’s sweet, my love.” Then, he paused, properly taking in your expression and general run-down demeanor . “But, why do you look like you’re about to cry?”

Your pout slipped into a full grimace as tears sprung to your eyes. You wailed, “I BURNED THE PIE! And I burned my finger. And I don’t even know if this is going to be good, but I spent FOUR hours making this, and I’m hot and my feet hurt, and now I can’t remember if I missed a step in the recipe.”

He chuckled, pressing a kiss against the burn on your index finger. “Y/N, baby. It’s okay. I’m sure it’s great, even the burned pie. I’m going to eat all of it regardless and enjoy it.”

“No!” Your voice came out as a sob. His startled eyes looked up at yours from where he was still gently placing kisses on your burned finger. “I can’t make you eat something that’s a carcinogen! I’m throwing the pie. And, if this tastes like shit too, I’m going to- omg what if it’s poisonous? What if it makes you sick? I can’t do that to you.” You fretted and wrung your hands. 

He stepped closer and brushed a piece of hair off your sweaty forehead before grabbing your hands and squeezing them comfortingly. “What’s really going on baby?” His eyes darted between yours, looking for an answer. “It’s okay. It’s not a big deal- we can always order out.”

You sighed and pressed your head against his chest. Your voice was small as you answered. “I just wanted to do something special for you.” His hands rubbed up and down your back sweetly. “Because you are the best, San, and I just wanted to do something for you for once because you always do the most for me and everyone else in your life and I love you so much and I’m so happy but what if I don’t make you as happy as you make me?”

He pulled back urgently to look you straight in the eyes. “Whoa whoa whoa. Let’s correct that right now.”

You sniffled as you looked at him, the hard look in his eyes. “Y/n. You make me so so happy. I’m the happiest I’ve ever been in my life, and that’s all because of you. You don’t need to do anything to make me happy. You just need to breathe and live,” you smiled at him tremulously and he let out a breath and continued, “and let me be close to you and maybe let me kiss you and take care of you and share your time,” you giggled, “but even that’s being a little greedy.”

His thumb brushed at the corner of your eyes where the tears hadn’t dried yet. “I’m serious. You’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me, and that was before we even started dating. You are special. You talking or even smiling at me is special to me; there is absolutely no need to do all this.” He gestured at the mess that was strewn about the kitchen. 

You pushed yourself back into his arms, the tension seeping out of your shoulders. “I love you, San. Thank you for saying all of that. I’m relieved.”

He massaged your shoulders as he pulled you back in, relieved to see you smile for the first time since he stepped in the kitchen. “I love you, too, Y/n. I’ll remind you 3000 times if I have to.” 

You smiled and pressed a kiss against his chest. You lingered in his embrace for a moment more, really savoring it, before you pulled back. “But I still have to finish this.”

He smiled, “Okay, then let me help.”

And help he did. With the addition of San’s hands in the kitchen, the work seemed easier and was done quicker and better. He even helped with the heat. He managed to open the windows that were always jammed shut, though it did take all of his muscle strength. While he kept watch over the pot on the stove, he redirected you to keep you away from the flame, so you started on the dishes. 

You were almost done when he startled you again. His gentle hands lifted the hair off your shoulders before carefully gathering it into a ponytail that he secured with the elastic on his wrist. One he started wearing when he started dating you so that you would always have one near if you needed it. You were rinsing the last pan as he tied your hair and you placed it in the drying rack, wanting to turn to him. But, he didn’t let you move. Instead, one arm came down to cage you against the counter while the other held your pony to the side. His lips pressed to your neck. You gasped. He placed another kiss, a millimeter lower. “San.”

“Yes, baby?” He murmured against your skin before continuing to press kisses down. 

You lost your train of thought as his lips met the junction of your neck and shoulder and marked a new path. His fingers were cold as he moved your bra strap down so that his lips could continue charting their path. You shivered against him, a moan threatening to break loose. 

“San.”

“Mhm.” His hand that had been holding your pony to the side let go and came down to wrap around you and pull you flush against him. You dug your fingers into his forearm. His lips didn't move away from your skin for even a second.

You were so lost in the sensation that it was with great effort, you managed to say, “the food.”

“It was done cooking a few minutes ago.” His lips continued pressing kisses against your skin, and now your head was spinning, but not from the heat of the kitchen, but from the heat of his touch. “And it tasted delicious.”

You relaxed against him, the fight leaving you. He placed another lingering kiss before turning you in his arms. You blinked up at him. 

His eyes were on your lips. “If it’s alright with you, though, I think I’d rather eat later.”

You swallowed as his finger gently traced the outline of your lips. His eyes flickered up and you realized belatedly that he was expecting an answer. Fuck the food, you thought, you wanted to see where next his lips would make their journey across your skin. You had barely just nodded before his lips crashed down on yours. You kissed him back just as enthusiastically. He lifted you up into his arms and out of the kitchen. 

When you did get around to eating the meal you had cooked several hours later, you were pleasantly surprised and relieved to find that it was delicious. And even if it was special, the moments you shared with San were more special. You giggled as he slurped at the stew like a man starved, tried to swat him off the pie as he ate around the burned crust, and fell in love with him even more with every sweet kiss he pressed upon you in between bites.