#at least until he's got kids who will call him daddy <3< /div> Explore tagged Tumblr posts

[becausebuckley]

i just think buck deserves to be called all of the pet names. honey makes him grin, baby makes him blush, sweetheart makes him blush. eddie calls him my love and buck nearly proposes on the spot. clipboard buck gets yes, dear. one day, eddie will be able to call him mr diaz, and that might just be his favourite of all

[songmingisthighs]

Missing Out

group : ateez

pairing : dilf!mingi × reader

genre : smut

wc : 4.1 k

tw : mdni, explicit smut; daddy kink, teasing, dirty talk, age gap (mingi's like mayhaps at least a decade older, but both are still within legal limits), thigh riding, spitting, alcohol consumption (not to the point of being drunk, it's just for vibes and... spitting lmao),

a/n : frfr i hope he doesn't see this fic because God i would not be able to defend myself. tbh i planned on posting this on mingi's bitthday but i got shit happening to me. shit without my consent and I'm just trying to ride the stress like gandalf hopped up on cocaine riding smaug. so ykw i decided to post this on my birthday instead lmao. special thanks to @kitten4sannie for listening to me drop some ideas while i was on a road trip, i did some adjustments but it's still sexually frustrated dilf!mingi this fic is finally out so i hope you and everyone enjoy it <3

a/n/n : i take no responsibilities for any calf cramp that may or may not happen but alyssa, i still blame you for the great leg cramp at ass o'clock

a/n/n/n : my birthday sucks because it felt more like public service than anything but i got ticket to go to singapore again so i'll be reunited with my little brother and little sisters soon✌️ i'm raising money for my mental wellbeing which is so totally code for i'm trying to find a way to make my shituation better by making myself just the slightest bit happier after today's shenanadoodles

buy me coffee ?

After the day Mingi had, the cold drink in his hand felt like the reward he deserved. It was only then that Mingi realized why people always say that the Family Court is rough. Still, of course, it was extra rough for him because his ex-wife, the horned creature incarnate (a goat, not the devil), had dragged his name through the mud just to get the maximum alimony because she was a narcissistic bum with no life skill to fall back to as if Mingi was the one who told her to quit her job as a dental hygienist when they first got married.

During the mediation meetings and court proceedings, she took all of the potshots she could While no one took her seriously, it still pained Mingi because the more she and her lawyer attacked him, calling out all of his insecurities and questioning his character, the more obvious it was that Mingi had wasted 9 years of his life on this loser and he missed out on all of the marital milestones. The main sore spot was having kids. She argued that putting her body through pregnancy was out of the question because there were risks that could cause her body to look weird in the future and it's inhumane how a woman's body had to contort in such a way to accommodate another living being. But when her breast implant popped when she slammed the car door too hard, it was 'a normal occurrence'.

As much as his friend Yunho told him not to, Mingi couldn't help but wallow in the time he absolutely WASTED on the bitch only to be screwed over. The only good thing that came out of the divorce was the fact that he got out of it without having to pay alimony because his ex-wife had become too cocky with her cards. But still, Mingi had to give her the car, the savings account (that wasn't much compared to anything considering she had drained it to accommodate her filler addiction and alcohol dependency), and Tony Son, their personal trainer, the one thing Mingi could credit her because she had been the one who introduced him to the man who was able to sculpt his body to perfection.

"Is this seat taken?"

Mingi snapped his head to the side to see a woman younger than he, dressed in a tight-bodiced red sparkly dress that showed just enough cleavage for it to be classy rather than trashy and the A-line satin skirt stopped just three fingers width atop her knees. Slowly, Mingi nodded and gestured to the seat on his right side wordlessly. It wasn't until the woman flagged down the bartender and ordered her drink did Mingi questioned why she sat next to him when there were other seats in the bar.

"So, are you alone?" she asked, striking up a conversation with Mingi which honestly caught him by surprise because he had been told that he had a resting bitch face that doubled in intensity when he wasn't in the mood and he was doubling in his bad mood. "Yeah... I am, so..." his words allude to him wanting to be alone, but there was something about the person next to him that intrigued him so much so that his eyes seemed to be glued to her. Just the sight of her drinking her vodka cranberry made Mingi's eyes travel from her face down to her lap, watching the way she moved so gracefully. "So... You don't mind my asking why a man as handsome as you are would be sitting alone with a scowl on his face," she pointed out, forcing Mingi to consciously unfurrow his eyebrows and fake taking a sip of his drink, "I'm not scowling, I'm just tired and pissed off for wasting 9 years on a selfish bitch that deprived me of anything I want in life," he spat venomously, even the slight mention of his ex sent a really unpleasant taste in his mouth. "I'm so sorry to hear that. Anything I can do to help?" She pouted, inching closer to Mingi as somewhat of a signal. Noticing this, Mingi scoffed and shook his head but he still entertained the woman, "Got a time machine to help me undo the past 9 years?" "No, but maybe I can give you what your ex couldn't."

You couldn't help but bite your bottom lip when the look of shock on Mingi's face melted into intrigue. You had been watching him for an hour, sitting all alone, nursing his one drink as he toyed with his ring before chucking it into his breast pocket. Thank God he did because you were not about to approach a potentially spoken-for man. It took you a while to get substantial evidence of his status and it wasn't just because you were distracted by his plump ass in those slacks and the matching suit jacket and slightly unbuttoned black dress shirt didn't help your case.

"Little girl, I think I'm a bit too... Far for your reach," Mingi pointed out, raising an eyebrow at you as he wasn't sure that you knew what you were offering him. Mirroring him, you raised your eyebrow and shifted so that you faced him fully as you raised one leg and cross it over the other, successfully inviting Mingi to get a glimpse of more skin. "You don't know me or what I can do, sir," you smirked challengingly, now openly inviting him to poke you further.

You were delighted when you saw Mingi's jaw clench and throat bob after you called him sir. It was proof to you that Mingi had some sort of inclination of being in control and his little confession about not getting what he wanted from his ex-wife might be a glimpse of the kind of fun you could get from him. So without hesitation, you decided that you were going home with him.

Surprisingly, Mingi responded positively by leaning in to cup your chin and pull you close, just a wispy breath away from having your lips meet and you so desperately wanted to taste his because they just looked so damn juicy and plump. "You don't want to know all the things I've been deprived of... Baby." Your eyes darken and your legs crossed tighter to suppress the sudden arousal washing over your core, excited at the confirmation that Mingi was playing into your games just as you had wanted. All you needed to do was lock this down. So you let your hand lay on his thigh, squeezing it suggestively and enjoying the feeling of his muscle tensing underneath you each time your hand slid closer to his crotch to the point that your nail was scratching the inner side of his thigh just right. Despite being physically affected by you, Mingi still maintained eye-contact, daring you to poke his button just right.

"Yes, I do... Daddy."

In the blink of an eye, Mingi smashed his lips on you and all of the oxygen was knocked out of your lungs in one go. His lips were soft but the way he used them was rough yet calculated. You could taste the smoky whiskey on his tongue as he slipped it inside your mouth. Little did you know, he too, was enjoying the way you tasted. Your lip gloss had a sweetness to it that made him wonder if you're the type to plan things or if it was just a happy coincidence. He also took note of how you allowed him to lead you and the more he asserted himself onto you with every nibble of his lip and every caress of his tongue, showing that you're more on the submissive side and he likes it. A lot. The more you felt pleasure, the more you pleasured him back as evidenced by your hand rubbing against his raging boner.

Mingi smirked at the way you whimpered when he finally pulled away from you to slap a couple bills on the counter before he got off the stool, pulling you along with him. You wobbled slightly but Mingi immediately pulled you flush on his chest and despite having just made out with him, you found the gesture very hot. "Wanna go see if you can keep up with the list of things I missed out on?"

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Mingi must be some kind of a business owner because no way he would have had a rather impressive office where you found yourself in. Well, on top of him on his couch, grinding your panty-less core against his thigh with your top down, allowing the older man to ogle at your tits as you tried to make yourself cum.

"Is that the best you can do?" Mingi taunted, circling his crystal glass which produced a tinkling sound from the ice in the drink he poured as soon as you reached his home. "Daddy, I want you to touch me," you whined but your hip was still relentlessly moving after making a big deal of how his thighs were so strong and you wanted to sit on them like a throne. So instead of just sitting, Mingi told you to make yourself useful and prep your pussy without his help and he wanted you to do it by riding his thigh. His thick, glorious thigh. "Don't you want to touch me, daddy?" you teased, cupping your boobs and tweaking your own nipples whilst throwing your head back, making a show out of it just to get Mingi to touch you. Sure, Mingi was intrigued, but he knew damn well that he was holding the reigns and he had to hold himself back from jumping at the opportunity to completely ravish you too soon. "I do, baby, but you're being a brat right now and refusing to listen to me. Had I wanted that, I would've stayed with my ex-wife." Your head snapped back up at the mention of his ex-wife and you glared at his smug smirking face, "You have me half naked on your lap and you still mentioned your ex-wife?" you gathered your skirt in your hand, exposing your cunt to Mingi's eyes and slowed your pace to a prolonged drag that left long, dark stain courtesy of your arousal.

Finding your petulance adorable, Mingi chuckled and pulled you in for a searing kiss with one hand cupping your chin and the other slapping you on the ass as if telling you to speed up your movement. "You're an adorable little doll and I'm gonna break you," he muttered against your lips before you could reply to him, Mingi tugged your hair back as he casually took a sip from his drink. The action made you yelp and Mingi swiftly leaned over and spit the drink into your mouth and clamped your jaw shut. "Swallow," he commanded and as you came down from being surprised, you stared into Mingi's eyes. At first, you only stared at him, feigning defiance just for fun and Mingi found that both intriguing and annoying. His grip moved to tightly grasp your jaw and he growled, "Swallow. It." He demanded in a stern voice that made your panties more damp as your cunt clench, leaving you unable to do anything more than whine and swallow the burning liquid. Mingi found you very mesmerizing even on an act as simple as you taking heed of his words. The stray spit and alcohol that trickled from the corners of your lips enhanced the glimmer of your smudged lipstick and lipgloss combo, turning Mingi on with how effortlessly sultry you looked. He was down and he was down bad. He wasn't even sure if he was down because Once the liquid was no longer there, you rolled out your tongue to proudly show your obedience and Mingi let out a shuddered breath seeing you just blindly following his orders like the good puppet you are.

"Fuck, you're gonna be the death of me."

In a flash, Mingi flipped you both around so that you were trapped underneath him with your head strategically on the armrest. The elevation allowed you to watch as Mingi dragged a hand down your body as if you were a work of art. "All this time... I was missing a lot all this time, that bitch took nine years out of me and gave me nothing," Mingi shuddered both in anger and in arousal. The contrasting thoughts between being so angry at his former partner and the excitement of being rewarded by being able to ravish you felt like waves crashing inside him. It was thrilling. It was exciting. It got his adrenaline pumping and God, he felt alive. "Poor baby," you purred all the while slowly popping the buttons of his dress shirt off to reveal the soft skin underneath, "You're so frustrated, It's a good thing I'm here now huh?"

You swung your leg up and used the tip of your toe to tilt Mingi's chin upwards maintaining a somewhat neutral expression but the twinkle in your eyes indicated clear intrigue. "Tell me all the things you want to do. What do you want most?" the question made Mingi roll his eyes back and he grabbed your leg by your ankle. "You nasty slut, you want to have an older cock so bad you're enticing me with empty promises, huh?" He mumbled against the skin of your leg, trailing his lips down from the heel and lower to your calf as his body followed down until he eventually stopped at the mid-section of your inner thigh. You helped him by flipping your skirt up, exposing your cunt wholly to him and slotting the leg you lifted on his shoulder, "Empty promises? I want to give you whatever you want daddy, and in order for me to be able to do that, I need to know what it is."

Thinking that he had nothing to lose anyway, Mingi smirked and decided to test you. "I want a baby," he stated, "I want to put my baby in you," he said oh so casually as if he hadn't had his fingers poking and prodding your cunt like they just belonged there. Truthfully speaking, Mingi was expecting you to push him off and ran away screaming because what kind of a hookup just casually dropped a bomb as big as he did?

But it seemed like Mingi's luck was turning around for the better because you replied by reaching forward to free his cock from his pants, trying as best as you could to suppress the surprise at Mingi's size (but failing as evidenced by the way your eyes bulged slightly and your tongue peeking out to lick your bottom lip in hunger) before you leaned back and opened your legs widely as an invitation for him. "Then do it, fuck me so hard and dumb and deep that I'd have no other choice but to have your baby," you smiled up at him. Mingi could only stare at you in shock initially, not really knowing what you meant until you whined and pulled him closer using the leg that was hooked on his shoulder. "Daddy, don't make me wait too long. Come on, put a baby in me!" you pleaded, cunt throbbing with eagerness to feel Mingi's cock stretching you now that you already caught a glimpse.

The shock melted away from Mingi's face and even as he was guiding his cock to your core, he was still carefully watching your face, not wanting to waste any twitch or shift in your face from feeling him but also he was trying to be careful in case you showed him any indication of regret or if you changed your mind. But the way you whined and rolled your hips so your wet cunt could meet his cock more gave him the green light.

"You dirty slut," Mingi grunted before he shoved his length inside you in one fluid movement. The accumulating arousal from you riding his thigh provided proper lubrication but his sheer size was not something you're used to so your body tensed up at the impact. "F-fuck, daddy, y-you-" "Am I tearing you apart, baby? Are you being split into two on daddy's fat cock?" he asked in faux worry that was just him being condescending towards you. But you don't care, you found it hot even when he talked down to you as if you were nothing but his plaything. "Yes, yes, daddy, I'm being split open on your cock but I love it! I love it so much!" you moaned, hands clawing at his skin, causing red streaks to appear from the pressure of your nails, "Fuck, I want more!"

With that, Mingi pushed your legs up by your thighs, exposing more of your lower half to him. "Be daddy's good girl and hold these open, I wanna see your pussy taking my cock raw," he hissed, eyes zeroing on the way your puffy lips split open to accommodate his size. Carefully, as if assessing a great piece of art, Mingi watched attentively The view almost brought tears to his eyes but he channeled the somewhat endearing moment into fucking you stupid into the mattress.

Each drag of Mingi's cock felt like fire against your inner walls. Although there was a slight discomfort with each movement, the added pleasure of being filled like you had never before made you addicted.

If you thought you were enjoying yourself, Mingi was very close to combusting and he was trying his best to not cum too soon as he didn't wanna be branded as the geezer who came too early. But he couldn't help it, not with the way both his ego and his cock were stroked. It was as if you were made for him and he felt that the moment he entered your sopping cunt. So Mingi shifted his focus to you instead, working to get you to cum first.

"Come on baby, cum for daddy. I need you to cum first so you'd be ripe and open for me to fill you up," Mingi huffed, pressing his pointy nose against the junction of your neck that sent tingles down your spine, "We need to do our best to make sure that you'd be good and pregnant, right?" The weight of his words caused your head to spin as the thought of him filling you full for his own pleasure filled your mind. "Yes, yes daddy, make me cum please," you whined into his ears, your body reacting almost automatically by rolling your hips against his own to match his speed and desire. Mingi growled hungrily and his pace quickened significantly as the impact got harder. You were sure that after this your ass would be different shades of red and blue but you couldn't care less. Especially if Mingi wanted to do more rounds with you, you'd gladly wear the bruises like a badge of honor.

"Fuck, you're so hot like this, you're so hot when you're willing and submissive for me," Mingi grunted, even verging on whining into your ears because you just felt so good to him but he held firm, "Are you close, baby? Are you cumming soon?" Lucky for him, you nodded hurriedly, confirming that you were close. Your brain had been marinating in the dizzying arousal that it was embarrassingly quick for you to nearly reach your climax in a rather short time. However, your response was deemed lacking to Mingi who wanted to hear a verbal response from you. Mingi was quick to slap you hard on your left tit as a punishment, feeling the need to chastise you for simplifying your response.

The words died on Mingi's tongue and his hips sharply halted to a stop when he saw you yelp and shudder before coming completely undone underneath him, writhing pathetically as your nails grazed his skin, leaving red streaks for Mingi to show off for days on end. His eyes darken when he saw tears pooled in your own eyes before dropping, creating the illusion of your eyes sparkling which served a rather complex combination of innocence and sinful. "M-M- Daddy," you whimpered in almost a hushed tone, barely comprehensible but to Mingi the sound was thunderous in Mingi's ears, ringing, because his baby girl needed him. His baby girl wanted him. His baby girl who's willing to give him anything he could ask for was longing for him. So who is he to deny you?

Seeing you in such a vulnerable state seemed to unlock something primal in Mingi because while you were reeling down from your orgasm, Mingi was instead put into some sort of a trance. His tongue darted out to lick his bottom lip, slightly hoping that he could taste your sweetness in the air, and his hips restarted with a pace so hard and quick, for a moment you forgot that Mingi was a human.

The pleasure from your orgasm tripled with the additional friction continuously given by Mingi whose head was flooded with the thought of truly possibly getting you pregnant from this first time. Not that he was planning on only fucking you once, not after he felt how good you made him feel both emotionally and physically. He was planning to pamper you to death and maybe that was the sexually frustrated side in him but he didn't care, he didn't care how crazy he was because you were the one who made him crazy.

The sound of hips snapping together in a rhythm accompanied by your drunk-like moans sounded like a symphony in Mingi's ears. "F-fuck baby, I'm gonna fill you up now," Mingi grunted, his eyes closing and his forehead dropping to your shoulder, "I'm gonna fill you up with my seed to the brim and you're gonna be a good girl and keep it all in so my baby can grow safely inside of you, okay?" He whispered so intimately against your shoulder that both your lips and cunt wept. You wouldn't be surprised if there was a pool underneath you after you were done and you won't hesitate to ask for more. "Cum, daddy. Cum inside me. Fill me up so hard and full like you promised me!" You whined, your hands snaking around his shoulders to hold tight as the overstimulation caused a tingling pain that made your toes curl while Mingi was getting such a high from his ego being fed.

"Fuck, baby girl, this is it, I'm gonna put my baby in you!" Mingi grunted and thrusted, once, twice, thrice, before his hips stuttered and you felt a gush of warmth spilling deep inside your cunt. The physical feeling of being filled up made your eyes roll into your head and the realization of what just happened made you blush as if you weren't whoring for his cock not 10 minutes ago.

As Mingi slowly came down from his high, his mind cleared up and he was able to pepper kisses from your shoulders, up your neck, along your jawline, and then gently all over your face. The contrast of the sweetness of the older man and the nasty act you both just did made you suddenly turn all giggly and shy. "Aww, come on, are you trying to get away from me?" Mingi smirked, trying to chase another kiss from your lips but you kept dodging him, "That's pretty absurd considering I still have my cock inside of you, plugging you full." Your eyes widened at the vulgarity of his chosen words and you couldn't help but smack him on the shoulder but fail to hold back a giggle, "Don't say it like that!" "Like what? Like the way it is?" Mingi teased, pushing himself up to trail a finger on your stomach which made your breath hitch and your muscle to tense, "I need to make sure you really do get pregnant so you can give me my baby just like I wanted," his voice trailed as his fingers drew patterns on your skin almost lovingly and the nonsensical side of you wanted to believe that he was showing his affection to you. You figured that there was only one way to find out.

Without missing a beat, you took his finger that was tracing your skin into your mouth and start licking around as if it was a lollipop, effectively causing Mingi's attention to shift to your face and his cock to twitch inside you. "Who said we're only gonna try this once, daddy? You're gonna fuck me as much as you like until I'm good and pregnant."

The smirk that bloomed on Mingi's face was devilish and almost menacing, showing his genuine intention to get wamhat he wanted.

"I hope you'd never ask. I'm gonna fuck you all night long and you're gonna be a good girl and take it all with no complaint."

As if you'd say no.

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[wordstome]

COD Men as Dream Daddy DILFs

Call of Duty single dads x gn!single parent reader

⤐Characters: 141 + König + Horangi + Keegan

⤐Premise: You just moved into a neighborhood with a high population of retired military personnel.

*glances at my 3-4 wips* let's talk about some dilfs, shall we? ...Don't look at me. I had a vision. (No relation to the actual characters from Dream Daddy, just a similar premise) Also a disclaimer: I'm writing these dads mostly in their late 30s to 40s, but don't think about their ages and the ages of their kids too much. This is all vibes. And sorry ahead of time if I gave one of the kids the same name as you 💀 Feel free to imagine the kid has a different name because the names really don't matter

p.s. I wanted to write more characters but I had to reel myself in. I could be persuaded to write a part 2 with Vaqueros, Nikolai, Valeria, Nikto, and other Ghosts tbh

Warning: this shit is LENGTHY. Strap yourself in.

Price: A post about DILFs and you expect me not to start with Captain John Price? Price is the lynchpin of this cul de sac. He's the one inviting everyone over to the barbecue, tries to get the dads to get along, and gives everyone advice. He has the quintessential dad energy. He 100% slaps his knees and says "well!" when he gets up. Price also has major girl dad energy. He's got three adorable little ladies, aged 3 (Clara), 9 (Brianna), and 11 (Alice). Yes, he did name his daughters in ABC order, I can see him doing that. Oh, he dotes on his girls, and they love their dad endlessly. He's the model father: recitals, sports, parent teacher conferences, you name it, he's there.

That's how the two of you meet: he comes up to you at one of the aforementioned events and gives you a firm handshake and apologizes profusely for not coming around to introduce himself earlier. It's not like him not to at least swing by, and he hopes you can forgive him the discourtesy. He hands you his number and says anything you need, just give him a call, or maybe swing by for a beer sometime. He gives you a wink that makes your knees weak, a wink that says he definitely noticed you checking out his muscled arms and broad shoulders. Maybe you will swing by for that beer sometime—and maybe get a little more than just a drink.

Ghost: I could see Simon having a one night stand kid. He certainly never saw himself starting a family after he lost his last one, but he was stressed and probably piss drunk as well. Years and years later, he's back from deployment and finds a social worker with a boy on his doorstep, and the rest is history. I love the idea of Simon with a moody 16 year old, but I actually see Simon and his son having the same dynamic as Mike and Abby Schmidt from the FNAF movie. Since Simon wasn't around for Caden's early childhood, they have a relationship that's undeniably father and son, but leaning towards casual and sibling-like. Simon's figuring his shit out, dealing with his PTSD and the various lasting health issues his time in special forces has left him with, and Caden's a quiet, sensitive 10 year old boy who thinks the world of his dad.

You meet Simon at the local bar. His Ghost days are long behind him, but the balaclava's a hard habit to kick. Besides, he doesn't need people staring at his scars. He's usually there with the 141, but today he's alone, and looks like he could use some company. You sit up at the bar close to him and order a drink, but you don't disturb him, and he visibly relaxes when he realizes you're not going to try to make small talk. It becomes a routine, the two of you: always sharing a quiet drink together at the bar, and then both of you wordlessly go home to your kids. You have a sort of silent conversation every time: Good to see you again. Yeah, you too. Neither of you actually speak a word to the other until Price introduces you to him at a gathering, and you finally hear his voice. "We've met before," he says, with a glint in his eye that suggests perhaps he'd like to be more than just a silent drinking buddy. That's fine with you: you're dying to see what's under the mask and dark hoodie.

Soap: JOCK ALERT. Johnny's basically Craig from Dream Daddy: total dreamboat who goes on runs around the neighborhood and gets all the appreciative looks from the local moms. He thrives on the attention in a way that definitely makes the 141 roll their eyes. He's got an older little girl named Elodie, and a lil baby boy Thomas that he takes everywhere with him. Obviously he's just being a responsible parent taking care of an infant, but secretly, Thomas is a great conversation starter with aforementioned local moms.

Conversely however, it's Johnny who makes the move on you first. Maybe in the grocery store, maybe at one of Price's get-togethers. Sidles up to you and introduces himself with a look in his eye that means trouble. Only the good kind of trouble, of course. If you reciprocate and he finds out you're single, you're not getting rid of him. But why would you want to, anyway? He's endlessly charming, attentive, and good with his hands. When he's fixing a leaky tap for you, of course—what did you think I meant?

Gaz: Kyle "Gaz" Garrick is a fucking heartthrob. I'm saying it right here, right now. He's a walks in with flowers, makes you dinner kind of partner. Also househusband vibes, because, surprise: Kyle is still married. This isn't a Joseph (Dream Daddy) situation, though: he and his wife, Emily, have known each other for a long time, a very high school sweethearts situation. Over the years, though, they drifted apart with Kyle in the military, and Emily eventually realized she's not actually into men. They're still married for coparenting purposes: they've got an older teenage girl named Violet, and a younger boy named Elliott. (Yes, I'm naming him after Elliot Knight, sue me.)

Honestly, I think it would be HILARIOUS if you met Kyle on a dating app and realized he's your next-door neighbor. But however you guys meet, Kyle is an old-school courter kind of guy. He is taking you on dinner dates, listening to you rant about your day, and is on your doorstep in a heartbeat when you call him in a panic because your kid's running a 105 fever (41 in Celsius) and you need a ride to the emergency room. (Not that the other dads wouldn't do the same, but I'm trying to convey "most reliable man in the world" vibes here.)

König: Y'all...you don't know how much fucken time I've spent thinking about this man as a dad. He's in the same boat as Ghost where he never saw himself living long enough to start a family, but here he is with the most precious little girl you've ever laid eyes on. Ava's got her father's curly hair and big green eyes, and she has her dad wrapped around her pinky finger. For König, Ava is living proof that he's capable of being more than just a tool for violence.

You meet König through Ava, of course. Your kids are the closest of friends, and the two of them are constantly going over to each other's houses. You're obviously delighted that your kid is making new friends and fitting in so well, but you'd be lying if your heart didn't skip a beat whenever you open your door to see Ava's six foot ten dad standing there with soft eyes and a sheepish smile. I have to stop here, because I've already written an extra paragraph for this man that I've cut out and pasted for safekeeping in my notes app, and if encouraged I will write more. (Please encourage me.)

Horangi: I know we already had a sort of Robert (Dream Daddy) figure with Ghost, but I think Horangi is a dad whose kid is an adult, much like Robert and Val. I also think that out of all the dads, Horangi is likely the one who's still doing some level of military work. Either that, or he has a very demanding job that takes up a lot of his time. He's ashamed of the way he let his gambling affect his family in the past, and is making up for it by being responsible and keeping his finances in order.

You don't meet him until you've lived in the neighborhood for quite a while, but he pops up at a gathering, talking quietly with König in a corner. You'd thought you had met every neighbor in the cul de sac, so you're intrigued by the newcomer. Someone, probably Price, tells you what Hong-jin's deal is, and ever since that you just can't keep your eyes off of him. You can't quite work up the nerve to talk to him, so you occupy yourself talking with the other parents. Some time later, you're at the food table grazing on the snacks when you look up and make eye contact with him. There's something intense in his gaze that makes you freeze, like a deer in headlights. He's definitely checking you out, you think. Your chest erupts into nervous butterflies when he starts walking towards you.

Keegan: Keegan is an adoptive father! I love his dynamic with the Walker boys, so I can see him being the kind of guy who adopts an older teenager so they have a home and a family instead of aging out of the system. Jason and Cecelia are high school age siblings who would have been separated otherwise, and consider Keegan their dad in every way that's important.

I think you and Keegan are definitely rivals in some way. Maybe it's a PTO thing, maybe he gets a little too boisterous at your kids' sports game. Whatever it is, you can't stand the man, but your annoyance whenever he's around only seems to amuse him. You have no problem saying to his face exactly what you think about him, but unfortunately, Keegan can see right through you. And hey, Cecelia could use some experience as a babysitter, so you won't have to worry about spending the night over at his place, will you?

As always, I wanna hear peoples' thoughts and feedback! If you want to hear more about these dads, drop me an ask <3

[slimmestofshady]

Bad Habits Kill You

Summary: The 90s in Detroit wasn’t exactly easy to live in with two kids and a boyfriend who redeveloped a bad habit.

Warnings: Drug Addiction, relapse, toxic relationship, abusive on both sides, accusations of cheating but no actual cheating, swearing, mention of smut, mention of drug dealing, breast feeding, robbery

6 calls, 13 text messages later and you found yourself driving home with your 3 year old daughter strapped in the carseat, livid that Marshall hadn’t picked up the phone. Working two jobs and trying to live life comfortably was becoming difficult as you felt like you were the only one here trying to keep the family afloat. This had been the fifth time this week you had to leave early and pick her up due to your boyfriend not showing up. Two write ups later with the check engine light on the car, hardly any gas in it and needing an oil change that you couldn’t afford you unbuckled her, carrying Ellie inside only to hear your newborn screaming once again.

Scoffing, you pushed open the broken screen door, the object squeaking when it was pressed back only to find Marshall’s blonde head fast asleep on the couch, a bowl of weed sitting right out on the rickety table next to Sara’s play pen.

“Mommy, why is daddy always tired? He never eats with us either.” You knew what this was, rehab hadn’t been working and it wasn’t just the sleeping pills he was taking. What were you supposed to say to her?

“Daddy’s just been very busy, why don’t you go play with your toys? Okay?” You smooched her on her delicate little head, ruffling her hair. A child at that young of age shouldn’t even have to ask those questions or ask why other kids have more than you did. Even in a relationship it felt like you were a single mother just trying to make ends meet. 

Picking up Sara from her crib you kneed him lightly in his side in irritation, causing him to moan and groan, mumbling something about being cold in the process. You kneed him again to which he turned around and shouted in his groggy state, his baby blues eyes dilated with dark circles shading his white skin.

“What?!” His temper was not in the slightest controlled, only pushing you farther past your limit of being civil or concerned for his well being.

“You were supposed to pick Ellie up, and do you hear that? That’s your other daughter crying to be taken care of which I can see you’re doing a great job at.” He clenched his jaw, folding his hands together, rubbing them. He got up, closing the distance between the both of you pointing an accusing finger directly in your face.

“I know how to be a fucking parent Y/N. Besides you’re one to talk, did Andre fuck you yet cause he been blowin up the phone all god damn day.” Taking Sara to her room, you rolled your eyes from having the same argument every fucking day while laying her in the crib, but he followed.

“At least he offers to watch the kids, more than you’ve ever fucking done! Tell me how many pills did you fucking pop today and don’t lie to me because I can see you’re clearly stoned. Fucking blanked out and shit.” You closed the door once you layed her down, refusing to argue with him in front of the kids but that didn’t mean they didn’t hear.

His hand wrapped around you arm pulling you back until you were pushed against the wall of the tiny hallway, giving you no personal space as he spat his venomous words.

The tensions was rising, only fueling your immense anger. This was the same old song and dance as every other fucking day. Why didn’t you leave? Well it’s easier said than done when you loved someone.

“I’m not fucking stoned babe I’ve been working on a new song and just fell asleep. Besides I don’t see you bringing any money so where you been if it ain’t work?” He pulled out a red piece of paper in his pocket with the words “EVICTION NOTICE”. Snatching the paper out of his hands, you noticed they only were giving you a week to pack your shit and get out due to being nearly three months behind on rent.

Scoffing you shoved the paper at his chest, trying to walk away but he didn’t let you shoving you back against the wall again.

“Marsh, don’t start your fucking shit okay?! I’ve been working my ass off but god forbid I work a full fucking shift because your ass has to be sat on this fucking couch, smoking dope and taking your fucking sleeping pills and xanax!” As he started cussing you out, you didn’t think before slapping him harshly across the face when he accused you of cheating once more based off the basis of no money coming in yet you’re always “at work.”

“What the fuck y/n! You don’t want to play this fucking game with me aight?!” Right before you could spit fire back, Ellie walked out of her room crying, causing you both to stop. She was just a child and didn’t ask or sign up for any of this. A sympathetic look of sorrow washed over Marshall and yourself the tension dwindling ever so slightly when you saw her teary, beading eyes, her cheeks reddened from the hostile situation.

With open arms, he picked her up cradling her against his chest as his hands rubbed her back gently.

“Baby, I’m so sorry. Mommy and I will stop arguing okay?” You crossed your arms, huffing from this constant fighting but seeing how quick he was when he was awake to console her, and ensure those crybaby tears stopped was heart warming. He had the potential to be such a good dad if he would just set the drugs aside but maybe that was too much to ask.

“My-my tv is gone, all-all my stuff is gone!” With frantic eyes, you both pushed open the door to see the room a wreck, and multiple items missing. Some of her blankets on her bed, her stuffed animals gone, even her piggy bank that had nearly $500 in it. It had taken over a year to save it, in hopes of starting a fund for her when she was 18, and now it was just gone. 

You couldn’t hold back the tears, feeling like everything was just crumbling down. They flowed freely down your cheeks, Marshall noticing and trying to pull you in to his side with his other arm but you waved him off, walking into the bedroom and closing the door. How much more of this could you take? There were shootings at least once a week, you were barely able to afford food, living off food stamps that barely covered shit. Whenever it seemed to be going great or a little better than before, everything would just turn to shit.

As you slumped down onto the bed, you couldn't help but notice the bathroom light still open, the shattered mirror from the night before slightly ajar.

Pushing yourself off the bed, you walked into the room with a dreadful feeling, hoping you weren't right. Taking a deep breath, you opened the object only to find the 3 pill bottles completely empty with their lids off, how much shit did he fucking take.

There was a knock at the door pulling you from your thoughts, but when you heard his voice asking if he could come in your blood boiled. When you didn't respond he pushed the door open, Sara no longer in his hands. When he saw you had found the empty bottles, he had a guilty look on his face but not remorseful.

There was a dead silence as you stood with your arms crossed shooting daggers his way.

"Tell me again that you're not fucking using. I'm not fucking stupid. How do you expect me to become closer with you when you can't even own your shit! This is getting old, and I don't know how much longer I can do this!" A switch like the atomic bomb flipped inside of him and he wasn't thinking before he pushed you on the mattress as you pounded against his chest, but you were never a match compared to his strength.

He folded his hands around the warmth of your neck, shaking you in place but not squeezing hard enough to cut off circulation.

"You don't know what it's like! Who the fuck are you to judge me huh? We're livin in this broke down piece of shit fuckin trailer, I'm tryin to fuckin write songs and start a good life for us, while you bring some dude around our fuckin kids when I'm not home, actin like you perfect, you ain't perfect either!" The tears welled in your eyes in a mix of emotions. He was right neither of you were but how did you get to this point. You had a plan, a good one, but everything kept getting taken away from you. It was like playing ring around the rosey but always falling down. You stared into his ocean eyes while sniffling when he finally released your neck.

"Fuck!" He screamed with profound irritation. You were both tired of fighting nearly every day, it was draining but the love was still there even if it was minuscule at times.

"Can you tell me truthfully I'm not being replaced by your fuckin' boss at work?" His eyes settled for a moment, just needing to know the truth.

"Marshall there is nothing there, nothing has happened. I'm just trying to find someone to watch the kids and I clearly have to even when I'm not home." A sorrowful look of hurt and guilt crossed over his face. You weren't wrong that he wasn't trustworthy to his own god damn kids and he wasn't wrong that you should've at least asked him about Andrei watching the kids. He was a private man, he didn't like strangers around the house let alone his kids.

As your breathing steadied, Marshall buried his head in the crook of your neck, allowing a singular tear to slip from his eye and land on your skin. He wanted to be better a father, a better boyfriend but it was so difficult during times like these.

"You need to get help baby..." A choked sob escaped you. You hated seeing him like this, he was better than this.

He had gone five months sober and when you noticed the signs he was using again you hadn't asked again after how irritable he was with you the first time, until today at least.

This wasn’t all on him though, the relationship issues anyway.

in his own head he felt there was no going forward, there was no escaping the impending, disastrous thoughts in his mind. The drugs soothed those intrusive thoughts, how could he lose himself inside his own head if he was asleep?

“I know, I know…” You both layed there for a moment in each others company. Neither of you calling the cops about the break in since they never seemed to actually do anything given where you lived.

“Maybe we should take the kids out for dinner or something, get Ellie’s mind off her things being gone.”

“Well how much do we got in the account?” You shook your head, sitting up and waving your hands up in the air with defeat.

“Not enough. I think altogether for the month we have around $120.” Fuck. He couldn’t do shit for his kids but somehow had enough money to get drugs? His mind twirled, the stress and realizing his priorities weren’t straight pressing an immense weight on his shoulders.

A thought crossed his mind of what if he started to sell only using every now and then? That would surely bring in money, especially around this neighborhood and keep you afloat for the time being but he didn’t say it.

He also had to worry about the kids. He refused to let them be homeless.

“Let’s take them we’ll figure it out. We aigh’t now?”

“Only if you promise me you’ll get help. I’m here to support you, okay?” Your hand caressed down his cheek as you stared into his baby blue hues, he nuzzled into your touch nodding before helping you out of bed.

Ellie was sat coloring with the crayons she still had on the living room floor wrapped in a blanket. That was another thing you were behind on, the fucking heat bill but that was a concern for another day. Luckly the electric and water seemed to still be on for the time being.

Marshall swooped her up in his arms peppering her face with loving kisses while ruffling her hair. He was always so good with her, such a caring dad and the sight made your heart melt. Moments like these made the fights seem almost pointless.

“Are you and mommy done fighting?” Her voice was so sweet and innocent, her small fist clenching and grasping at Marshall’s white shirt. The small gesture warning his heart. He just wanted his daughter to be happy.

“Yes baby. Daddy loves mommy we just have a lot going on, adult stuff you don’t need to worry about. Let’s get you and sissy some dinner, okay?” She nodded against him, perking up when he mentioned McDonald’s. It wasn’t the healthiest but it was affordable and it made her happy and that was all that mattered right now.

Passing her to you, Marshall went out to the car throwing a raggedy, old gray sweatshirt on before lighting a cigarette as he started the car. It took him about three times for the car to turn over, rickety old piece of shit, he was just grateful the heat was working for his angels. Checking the glove box, he ensured his gun was still there while a car passed by slowly, music blaring. He was skeptical of everyone and everything in this neighborhood, especially when something like today happens for the fifth time this year.

Pushing the door open, Marshall rushed to your aide to help Ellie down the stairs, avoiding the section with a nail sticking out of the wood while you carried Sara in your arms.

“Should we get gas?” You shrugged, nodding and informing him you still had work and Ellie had daycare to attend.

“How much we’re paying for that again?”

“Nearly $100 a month.” He hasn’t realized how expensive it was, scoffing and mentioning how the government expects people to live off minimum wage jobs and take care of their children.

Dinner seemed to be going smoothly, Ellie was making friends and playing in the play pin section of the restaurant while you and Marshall sat with Sara near the window in a close distance, sharing a milkshake while laughing over the memories of the past.

“Be careful sweetie!” Marshall yelled after Ellie noticing how close she was to slipping a falling off a plastic cube. She nodded to her dad, going back to her activity.

He couldn’t help but glance down at your tits, they’d gotten so big from the swelling of breast feeding. One of the things he loved that happened when you were pregnant. He bit down on his bottom lip intrigued, making a comment about how even after giving birth he still would take you right here right now over this table had their been no kids around.

Smacking him playfully with your cup, you giggled. It was about time she needed to be fed but before you could excuse yourself to the restroom, Ellie came up to have a drink break, not wasting a minute before she blurted out,

“Mommy, when is Andre coming over again? He likes to color with me and he talks about you a lot…” You we’re at a standstill for words, being left speechless by your toddler. Marshall’s jaw clenched, his hand forming a fist as he held his composure. He simply said, “Believe me now? Hows that for truth?” Ellie yanked on her dads sleeve, asking for a refill on her drink giving you the perfect way out of the situation.

“I’m going to feed Sara, I’ll be back in a couple minutes.

“Yeah, aight. You do that.” Arriving home, the car ride was mostly silent. Marshall laid Ellie down in your bed as she fell asleep in the car, too worried about her being in her own room and the same for Sara moving her crib for the night near the back corner of your room where the light wouldn’t be in her face but she’d still be close.

While you were still in the living room changing laundry, he stumbled into the back of the closet, reaching for a small box that was hidden under a flap in the carpet, popping a pill or two in his mouth, rinsing them down with water from the sink.

He closed the door lightly to not wake either of your kids, walking out into the living room and not hiding that he was not in a good mood, slouching down into the couch.

“So when the fuck did you plan on telling me that he been coming over into my fucking house with my fucking kids? You didn’t even ask me.” You sighed, knowing that resurfacing the topic if anything to with Andre would end badly, especially after the comment Ellie made.

“It was only one time babe, you were out with your friends, I was working late, Nate was out of town. I didn’t exactly have a choice. Those things Ellie said, I understand you are upset but until we can find someone else I don’t know what you expect me to do or what we’re going to do come next week.” Closing the dryer, you accompanied him on the couch, not looking for a fight but a resolution, but he loved to fight.

“I don’t want some strange, douchebag guy that wants to sleep with my girl around my kids Y/N. Plain and simple. Don’t worry about next week I’ll figure it out.” The way he ended the sentence meant there was no room for any other decisions. He wouldn’t allow it and quite frankly he was ready to choke this bitch out and arrange a little meetup in an ally to beat the shit out of him “And I don’t want a boyfriend who is high all the damn time yet here we are. Your bad habit isn’t just killing you, it’s killing us.” Yeah maybe you were right but maybe his trust issues got in the way of that cause as far as he was concerned if he saw Andre or even heard about him being here again he was gonna call up some of his buddied and make him a dead man.

This constant back and forth bullshit was getting you nowhere and frustrating the every living fuck out of him.

“I promise you I’ll go into rehab again once we get this shit figured out. But you gotta promise he ain’t coming around our kids anymore, and tell him to get rid of this fuckin number.”

“ And I will okay? No more Andre. I promise.” He nodded still not believing this guy was going to leave you alone but for now he wanted to relax, the pills already taking effect and making him drowsy he just hoped you couldn’t tell. Trying to avert attention from himself, his hands grasped your thighs pulling you into his lap and caressing your ass cheeks making you giggle.

“What’re you doing?”

“What I cant feel my girl up? C’mon the kids are asleep. We could get in a round or two.” That would be nice and a big stress relief, you could already feel his large bulge growing beneath you, causing your pussy to throb in anticipation while you rolled your hips down against him before pulling your shirt off, revealing your breasts.

“What’re you waiting for then?” You leaned in closely to his ear, lips just brushing over the bottom lobe and biting playfully.

“Fuck me.”

[moonlit-imagines]

Headcanons for being Johnny Lawrence’s daughter

Johnny Lawrence x daughter!reader

warnings: alcohol, underage drinking, classic johnny sexism <3

a/n: WHAT! ME write a fic thats not gn, i know. im shocked too but its just bc i feel johnny is so gender-stereotypey that doing this gn wouldn’t work very well but very open to a son!r or nb!r if anyone is interested (bc seriously. johnny cannot help but bring up genders). also i just want to say that a lot of this (not all!) honestly reminds me of or are actual things that have happened w my dad bc johnny is literally my dad if my dad was like 8 years older i think also i wrote this all in one sitting ALSO NO COBRA KAI SEASON 6 SPOILERS

prompt:

GIRL DAD!

you always kinda just gravitated toward living with your dad

“y/n, i’m so proud of you. i never have to worry about you. you can take care of yourself. robby on the other hand, i worry about him. i think girls are just more self sufficient” -johnny, a little drunk

“thanks dad” -you, also a little drunk (hes a “cool dad”)

he was the type of parent that “prefers that if you’re gonna do something stupid at least do it while he’s around” aka underage drinking

whenever he stays out late you fall asleep in his bed. and lock him out

“y/n! open the door!” -johnny, banging on the door

“no! your bed is more comfortable” -you

he thought it was sweet honestly but he did want to sleep in his bed

sort of like a lesson not to come home late all drunk and gross

he was VERY against letting you drive his car

“dad, i need my license!” -you

“no woman is getting behind the wheel of my firebird” -johnny

“why do you have to make it about women? i’ll fight you” -you

“you’ll lose that fight” -johnny

“oh, so you’d fight a teenage girl? wow, real classy, dad” -you

“no, but i’d fight my teenage daughter. i brought you into this world and i’ll take you out” -johnny

you honestly had a great sense of humor with johnny, but you’d check him if he said anything too messed up

“dad, it’s not the 80’s anymore, you can’t say that” -you

“dont tell me what i can and cant say! the 80’s were awesome, i wish it was the 80’s again” -johnny

“so i’ve heard” -you

he helped you with your homework as a kid until like, 2nd grade when multiplication and division got involved

he did teach you karate growing up! but mostly the basics, for self defense purposes

“hey, never let any guy try to impress you with his karate skills. he’s probably a douche” -johnny, pausing “i sure was”

late night movie marathons (70s/80s classics for sure)

he took care of you during your first hangover (high school parties, ya know)

“didn’t i teach you better than to mix liquors” -johnny

“ugghhhh” -you

yes, you have heard about daniel larusso. enough said LMAO

robby and you had a kind of sweet but distant relationship

occasional check-in texts

robby: are you doing okay with dad? he’s actually buying food and shit?

you: yeah! he’s fine right now, how’s mom? new stepdad yet? is he rich?

robby: mom’s not going anywhere she’d find a rich guy, but keep dreaming

you wear a lot of your dad’s old t-shirts. usually band tee’s

oh and he made sure you got into the “right music”

he used to drive you around in the firebird when you were a SMALL CHILD (front seat, no car seat!) and blast his old cassettes

for YEARS he’d pull the “who is this” “what song is this” game with the reasoning:

“if you wear a band shirt and some asshole asks you to name three songs, i want you to name ten” -johnny

listen. you were still “daddy’s girl” or whatever used to be a cute little saying and is now ruined but whatever

“dad, can i have twenty bucks?” -you

“for what” -johnny

“for fun. pleaseeee” -you

*johnny pulls out his wallet and gives you $40*

could he afford it? no. can he say no? also no.

the absolute fear he felt when you got your first period

“it’s fine, i can call mom” -you

“no, it’s not fine! i’ve had girlfriends before, i got this. stay here, i’ll be back” -johnny

he went to the store and bought the most random assortment of period products and pain meds and snacks and a heating pad

A for effort

when the diaz family moved in across from you guys, miguel took one look at you and johnny said:

“stay away from my daughter”

when the karate fuss got started you tried to keep your distance but sooner or later you joined the dojo and proved to your dad just how “badass” you could be

“take notes everyone, y/n’s gonna be the next all valley champ!” -johnny

taglist: @ravenmoore14 // @retvenkos // @sweetheartlizzie07 // @an4aaa // @summersimmerus // @xoxobabydolls // @sapphireplums // @petersgroupie // @ravenhood2792 // @evilcr0ne // @thedarkqueenofavalon // @elenavampire21 // @elemental-of-magic //

[marksmelodies]

can you write smut about jeno and fem reader being parents who finally have someone to babysit their kid so they can have alone time<3??

YESSS I LOVE DAD DREAMIES SOO MUCH THANK YOU FOR REQUESTING

“fuck babe” jeno grunts as his lips move to your neck, his teeth slightly nibbling on your skin, you reach over sliding one of your hands up and down his bulge “babe she’s going to wake up soon, we can’t” you huff pulling away from him

you and jeno have been desperate these past few weeks, having a toddler wasn’t easy, she’s a handful to say the least, you knew going into parenthood that you would have to devote all of your time to your child but you and jeno were in need of alone time, sex became less and less frequent in your relationship as your daughter got older, she was in constant need of attention from the both of you and as much as you love her you have your needs too, you needed your husband more than ever

jeno rubs his eye as he lets out a sigh in frustration “yeah you’re right” he says, a few moments later you hear your daughter screaming for her dad “she’s up” you chuckle patting his back

“hi mama” your daughter says as she currently clings to jeno while he prepares for dinner “here baby go to mommy” jeno says passing her over to you “but i want daddy” she whines as you take her into your arms “daddy has to make dinner baby, how about we watch a movie huh?” you suggest taking her to the couch as she settles down picking out what movie to watch

sitting on the couch you have a clear view of jeno, his back facing you he stands in the kitchen cutting vegetables adding them to the pan that sits on the stove, not even noticing your eyes move to his broad shoulders and then to his muscles that are slightly flexed, your eyes keep wandering his body until you realize what you are doing, the familiar feeling washes over your body, you were in fact very horny just by the sight of your husband

“mommy why are you staring at daddy like that?” your daughter looks up at you looking back and forth between you and jeno, you giggle before bringing her into your lap “because mommy thinks daddy is very handsome, mommy loves him very much” you say kissing her head “no mommy i love daddy more than you, only i can love him” she pouts and you chuckle once again “i knew him way before you existed sweetheart and without mommy loving your dad you wouldn’t be here” you say tickling her stomach “you know your dad loves you so so much, i do too, more than anything” you say to her “i love you too mommy” she cuddles to your side turning her attention back to the movie

a few moments later you hear soft snoring coming from your daughter, you immediately went to wake her up since it wasn’t her designed nap time but you stopped yourself, carefully peeling her off of you, you lay her down and make your way over to the kitchen

wrapping your arms around your husband you hug him from behind “i told you to stop wearing those god damn compression shirts jeno” you say as you move your hands over his abs “why baby” he smerks at you as you move from behind him to in front of him, “because i can never behave myself when you wear them” you say as you place your hand under his shirt, jeno quickly pulls you into a heated kiss making sure to be quiet so your daughter won’t wake up, jeno then picks you up placing you on the island counter top as his hands travel your body, your hand rakes his hair as you slightly pull on it

“would you call me crazy if i said i wanted to have another one” you whisper to jeno between kisses “not at all baby, i’ve been thinking the same thing” jeno pulls away before anything goes further, he walks over to the stove checking on the food that is cooking “you really wanna start trying for another baby?” he asks quickly looking to you “yeah i really do” you say giving him one last kiss before waking your daughter up for dinner

the sexual tension between you and jeno during dinner was almost too much to handle, if it were just the two of you jeno would have already had you bent over the table fucking you relentlessly but there sits your daughter happily eating the food that’s in front of her, as dinner comes to an end jeno starts cleaning the dishes off as you get your daughter into the bath

“princess do you want to sleep over your aunts house tonight” jeno barges into the bathroom “a sleepover” she gasps excitedly “yeah and i think grandma and grandpa will be there for a little too” jeno bends down to her level laughing at the sight of bubbles all over her “yes i want to please mommy please can i go?” your daughter begs you look at jeno rolling your eyes knowing exactly what he’s trying to do “yes you can sleepover” you say getting her out of the tub

once she’s all packed and ready to go jenos sister picks her up, saying your goodbyes the door closes and the two of you are alone at last “oh thank god, am i a bad mom for wanting a break?” you ask jeno as you rest your forehead to his chest “not at all baby, you’re the best mom ever” he kisses the top of your head, jeno then grabs your face placing his lips onto yours as he leads you to the bedroom

he places you on the bed kissing your lips as he moves down to your collar bone “you’re so pretty” he groans as he takes your shirt off along with his own, he massages your boobs placing kisses on them as he takes your pants off, “my wife is so beautiful” he looks at you before kissing your cheek, jeno moves your underwear aside as he place two of his fingers inside of you “fuck” you moan throwing your head back, he quickens up the pace as you feel the knot in your stomach releasing as you cum on his fingers, jeno takes off his pants as he lets his dick spring onto his stomach he hovers over you lining himself up to your cunt before sliding his dick into you “fuck baby you’re so tight” he shoves his head into the crook of your neck as he picks up the pace “jeno” you let out a loud scream as his hips snaps into you “i’ve needed you so bad lately” he kisses your neck before latching onto one of your boobs while massaging the other “im gonna cum” you moan as you squeeze around his cock “shit me too” he pants,jeno releases into you as you finish at the same time, he collapses onto you kissing your collarbone“god i missed that pussy” he looks to you “round two” you smirk at him “oh we’re going all night long baby, i’m gonna get you so pregnant” he replies smashing his lips onto yours

[sports-on-sundays]

and I can change / CL16 / Part 2

Summary: dad!Charles x French!ex!reader - Charles would do anything to convince you to forgive him. He'd do anything to revive his family.

Warnings: Again, Y/s/n is 'your son's name'. And again, his age is unspecified- you decide what you think. crying (LOTS of crying), mention of drunkenness, mention of sex, mention of cheating, broken relationships, broken family, censored cussing

Requested?: Yeah! Requested by some sweet souls who read part 1! @barcelonaloverf1life @architect-2015 @emz2092 @cilliansgirl @lunamelona @lightdragonrayne @leclercgirl16

Author's Note: You guys asked for it, so I gave it! I hope you enjoy! Same song as inspiration. Also I'm thinking after this part I'll write a part 3, and then after that maybe a little epilogue, to wrap this up. Tell me what you think. Also, this is the link to part 1 / and the link to part 3

"Y/n, people change.

"And I can change, too."

You lay on your bed, engulfed in the darkness of the room surrounding you. The darkness seems to go deeper than just your surroundings- deeper, and into you.

Over and over the scene plays through your mind. Those words that Charles had uttered. The way he had clutched your hand in both of his, as if it were his only lifeline. In that moment, the desperation his eyes had denoted was incredible.

Charles, why? Why couldn't you let go? You're making it all so much more complicated.

But you know what he would say. Why? Why, Y/n? Because this isn't just about myself. Don't you see the brokenness in our son? Don't you see it?

Guilt washes over you, and then rage.

I shouldn't be the one feeling guilt. He should. He's the one who messed up our family. He's the one who's fault it is!

The way he cried, though.

The desperation.

The thing is that he is feeling guilty. Or at least so it seemed.

But does he really deserve a second chance? Do you?

Your phone rings at 12:00 A.M. On the dot. Charles has always been on the dot. Unless he's drunk, that is.

Why is he calling?

Right when I'm thinking about him, too.

Although this really isn't too surprising, when you consider it. For the past week and a half or so, you've stayed up until roughly 2:00 in the morning, staring at the ceiling, thinking, unable to convince yourself into peace and slumber.

And now a call comes.

Charles, why?

It feels terrible as you answer. "Charles. Don't call me."

"Y/n," he says in a calm voice. "I'm sorry."

"For what?" you snap, trying to keep it down. Your son is sleeping (hopefully) in the next room.

"For reacting so emotionally. I'm sorry. For years this has weighed on me, but crying and begging won't get us anywhere."

"We're not going anywhere, whether you cry and beg or not." You hang up.

A month after that call where you rejected Charles for what you hoped would be the last time, there's a knock on the door on a Saturday. You walk to it, and freeze when you look through the peephole.

Why is Charles Leclerc here?

Anxiety hits you. The house is a mess, you've got no food to give him, you look like a mess in your pajamas and unbrushed hair-

How can he just show up at your door like this?

It's obnoxious.

You honestly are about to pretend you aren't home, but then Y/s/n suddenly runs in, squealing, "Mama, who is it?! Is it the mailman?"

You sigh at your son's strange fascination for the mailman. You're not completely sure why he enjoys the young, dry, monotone mailman, and for years just assumed because he was generally a nice bloke, and little kids are weird, until you realized with an ounce of dread that the mailman resembles Charles, in a way. After that, you've never encouraged his enthusiasm for the mailman, just in case that was the reason, whether conscious or not.

"No, no," you sigh, unlocking the door. "It's not the mailman, love."

"Who is it, Mama?"

As you swing the door open, you murmur, "Well, love, none other but your father."

"Daddy!" the little boy, still in his Lightning McQueen pajamas, squeals, running to hug his father. You glance away, staring at the floor.

Charles hugs your son, kissing him, and exclaims, "Aw, there's my little buddy! How are you, man?"

"I'm good, Daddy! Are you coming to live here now, Daddy?!"

"Ugh- Not quite..." He picks up your son, and looks to you, immediately saying, "Sorry it's such short notice."

You grit your teeth, murmuring, "You mean no notice?"

"Right," he nods with a quick exhale.

While the presence of your son is a burden for you, preventing you from showing your true feelings, it may be an advantage for Charles, to get across what he needs to get across. Whatever that may be.

Because this is all just a game. Everyone with their own different motives. Y/s/n wants Mama and Daddy to love each other because he wants one place to live. Charles' motives are unknown, but probably are just manipulative and selfish- about making himself feel better. And your motive? You don't want to relive the past, so will avoid Charles at all costs.

Charles' and Y/s/n's motives align more with each other than your's.

You look at your son. Who you love so much. He looks at you with hope. Charles looks at you with... a very similar expression.

These two.

How can you love one and hate the other?

They're both family, as much as you hate to admit it. Because one of them, you wish you could erase.

No. But you don't. Because if you'd never met Charles, Y/s/n would never have been born. And you can't even begin to imagine your life without him.

You hold the door open, and gesture to the couch. "Sit down, Charles. I'm going to get dressed, and then put the kettle on." You say all this through gritted teeth.

How can he just walk in as if he owns the place?

He nods. "Thank you, Y/n." You watch in the doorway to the hall as Charles sits down on the couch with his son on his lap. You watch as he says softly, picking up a toy car from off the rug, "This car is awesome, Y/s/n. Where'd you get it?"

"Mama got it for me! For my birthday!" Y/s/n takes it from his father's hand with much pride, and starts driving it across Charles' chest, up onto his neck, and eventually onto his cheeks. The whole time, Charles laughs, his hand on his son's back to keep him from tipping off his lap.

"That's a super cool car. Does it have a name?"

"Uhhh," Y/s/n frowns. "Zoom! Because he goes zooooom!"

"Oh, it's a he?"

"Of course," Y/s/n says, as if this fact should be obvious. Then he giggles, "Because girls smell."

"They smell?! No way. Girls don't smell."

"Yeah, they do," he crosses his arms, frowning at his father. "You don't know any girls. You only know... Uh, Cah-los."

Charles laughs out loud. "The only person I know is 'Cah-los'?"

"Yep! And Uncle Arthur and Uncle Lorenzo, but that's it!" your son claims in a very matter-of-fact tone.

Their conversation continues, but you finally turn to leave and get yourself fixed up. You quickly shower, brush your teeth and hair, put on moisturizing cream, perfume, and deodorant, and put on a beige hoodie, grey sweatpants, and slides, before going to make tea. The whole time, you mind swirls.

Why is he here? Why is he here on a Saturday? Why is he here, without even asking to come? It's so... obnoxious.

You finish making two cups of tea, finding with awe as you make them that you remember exactly the way Charles likes his tea, and you're doing it automatically.

Because I used to do this so much.

You walk back in with the tea and see the two boys sitting on the rug now. Charles is tickling Y/s/n's tummy, and both of them are laughing- Charles with more of a chuckle and Y/s/n with more of a squealing giggle. When Charles sees you, he slowly stops, saying with a little sigh, "Alright, bud. Mama's back with my tea, and I mean to drink it."

"But Daddyyy!"

"Nope!" he grins, standing up, ruffling his son's messy hair. He then walks to you, and you hand him his tea. He lights up when he tastes the tea and looks at you, muttering softly, "My God, you remembered how I like my tea...?"

"Don't jump to sh*t, Charles," you murmur, soft enough for Y/s/n not to hear.

"Right," he sighs, sitting down again on the couch.

You set your tea down, walking to your son. "Alright, love. I want you to go in your room now, okay? Remember the Lego plane you were building? Why don't you work on that? I want to see it once it's finished, okay? And if you need anything, call, okay? Don't come in here. Just call, and one of us will come."

He looks questioningly. "Why, Mama?"

"Me and your father have important things to talk about. And if you don't listen, there will be consequences."

He blinks, pouting.

"I'll turn on your storybook audio for you. Come on." You bring him to his room and get him set up, until you're sure he's completely distracted with the Legos and the storybook. Only then do you come back to the living room and sit down awkwardly next to Charles.

He's still wearing his red windbreaker from when he was outside, and a black scarf hangs loose around his neck. His hair is a bit messed up, but he looks perfect, like always.

Too perfect.

"Let me take your scarf and jacket. And your shoes."

"Right," he says with a swift nod, handing you his scarf, coat, and sleek black boots. You put them by the door, and sit down, viewing the cozy grey sweater adorning his frame. You have a passing thought, considering how much unnecessary money he might have spent on such a garment.

"So?" you ask in a tense voice. "What is this all about, Charles?"

"There are some things we need to work out. You're right- one of the many things I've done wrong to you is always being a f*cking coward. You're right. I didn't say what was on my mind, and I faked it, and I kept quiet, because I didn't want to upset you. But now I see that the only thing I can do now is speak up, be honest, and be a man. You rightfully left me because I wasn't being a proper man. I wasn't being your proper man. I was being a terrible husband and a terrible father. But now we need to uncover what's true- we both have different views, both of which are likely exaggerated or incorrect in different ways."

"I don't care, Charles," you say quickly, flat out trying to ignore his admittance to wrong. Perhaps because you don't want it to be true. Because if he's sorry, that means you have to forgive him.

"So you're telling me you'd rather believe lies, just because it makes you feel better? What kind of thinking is that?"

You hate to admit that he's right. So you say nothing.

There's silence. But then he says, "So tell me what happened."

"You know what happen-"

"Tell me, Y/n." His voice isn't rude, but definitely firm.

You swallow, shaking your head. You don't want to work this out. You want to forget Charles. But clearly, that's impossible. "You were irresponsible. You'd get drunk, never be home, never help me. I'd be all on my own... You... You'd use me for your own pleasure but never show true, selfless love... Then you came home drunk saying stuff about a pretty woman and sex and getting pregnant... So you cheated... And I divorced you because I couldn't take it any more." You can't believe it, but you're trying not to choke up as you whisper, "Charles, what we had seemed perfect. Until you messed it up." Your mouth tastes like poison.

Charles stares down, his eyes swirling with everything but empty, at the same time. "Y/n," he whispers. "I was terrible. You're right. I was never around because I was immature and scared. I didn't understand. To get away from it, I drank and had fun with friends."

Your lip curls. "You're not the victim."

"And I never said I was! I was scared of being a father. I was scared of messing up. I wasn't ready and I let everything happen too quickly. I was a coward and I left you. Even though you divorced me, I was the one who left you. That's what happened. I was stupid. I was a terrible person. It's all my fault."

"Why would you be any different now? There's no way for you to prove that. Before the marriage you were fine. It was when we married that you went downhill. It was like... you couldn't stand me."

He looks torn apart. "I loved you. I... I... I still do. I knew I wasn't being a good husband or father and to forget about it, I drank."

"And why wouldn't you still do it now?!"

"Because I don't. I feel more guilt now than I did then! I feel more responsibility now than I did then! And that was my greatest fear! Responsibility! But now I don't drink excessively! Now I don't avoid reality! Because I need you... Our son needs us. Together. Don't you need me?"

"Not the you I know."

"You don't know me anymore. I'm not the same person I was." His voice is so uncommonly firm, it slightly shocks you.

You stare into each other's eyes.

He goes on, "That night, I didn't cheat. I was intoxicated. A young woman was trying to seduce me, but I refused because I had you. You, my beautiful wife, both inside and out. I wanted to convey to you that I said no because you were my wife. However, I failed to communicate this properly, and the next morning, I had completely forgotten the conversation. I chose not to tell you because I thought it would be better if you didn't know. I was afraid you would be angrier with me for being in that situation. I was a coward, and I didn't want you to be upset with me. I didn't realize for years that you believed I had cheated. If I had known, I would have assured you that I didn't cheat, just like I am doing now, and that I never would. Because I didn't. Despite all the mistakes I made, cheating on you is something I would never, ever do. I have always loved you, and only you, far too much for that."

Your hands tremble in your lap as you stare at him, listening.

Now you're the one getting emotional.

Charles leans in close to you- too close for comfort- and whispers, "I've changed... Please. I just want a second chance... To right my wrongs and give you and our son the lives you deserve. I need to give my all to you... I need to make it up to you... It's... It's crushing me."

"Why do you need a second chance?" Your voice, for once, isn't aggressive. It's gentle. Softer. Your voice cracks as you say, "You should have done it right the first time."

You see him swallow. "And you know what? I didn't. I f*cked up. I f*cked up everything. I f*cked up your life and I know it. I'm sorry. I wish I could go back in time and fix it and make it all better. I was stupid, Y/n. I was terrible. I hurt the most beautiful woman and her baby in the world. I'm the least." He takes your hand again in both his, but this time it's a gentler grasp.

"But you're not. You're famous. You have so many fans."

"Do you know how many times I've thought I don't deserve all this? If only I could share it all with you."

"Charles," your voice cracks again, and an unexpected, terrible longing fills you. "I want to believe you, but I can't. I'm broken, Charles, because of you. I can't afford to let you break me again..."

A tear rolls down your cheeks, and immediately he reaches up with his thumb, gently wiping your cheek, "No, Y/n, please don't cry... I don't want you to cry because of me any longer... Please..."

"Charles, I can't do this..." more tears fall.

There's hurt and confusion, but mostly longing and guilt in his eyes. "Please... If you'd only trust me, then we could make this right. I could make this right, after all I did wrong."

You can hardly believe yourself as you let your broken, silently crying self fall into Charles. You allow yourself to rest your head on his shoulder, and you allow his arms to wrap around you, giving you his warmth. "Charles..."

"Yes...?" There's a painful hope in his voice.

"I don't know if I can do this..." you cry into his shoulder now.

He whispers right in your ear, "Just give me a chance. Let me be there for you... Let me prove to you... Let me..."

You can't give him a yes or a no. Two sides war inside you- the mask and the face. You feel him stroke your hair as you cry, at the same time as remembering stroking his hair when he was drunk and needed comfort.

This is some sort of paradox, isn't it?

"Charles," you murmur, leaning away after you've gained control of yourself. "The answer is 'I don't know' right now, okay... Consider it... better than hating your guts with an adamant 'no.'"

As he gazes into your eyes, he leans closer. Softly, he places a tender kiss on your cheek and whispers, "I'll be ready whenever you are. And I'll never, ever stop waiting for you."

Weeks pass, and Charles can't understand why, after all that happened that day, still you insist on avoiding him like the plague.

Well, the reason is just that- avoidance. You're avoiding Charles because you don't want to face the possible truth. You're avoiding him because you don't want to make big decisions. You don't want to try again. You don't want to...

Well, you don't want to fall in love again.

And on that day, the way he treated you...

It reminded you of the man you married, and not the man you divorced.

And that scares you. Because you'll never forget the man you divorced.

So you're stubborn and resistent, and you're avoiding him.

So you sit, staring at the screen of your cell phone. Rereading the text on it. Over and over.

Charles Leclerc: I'm sorry for such a long text Y/n but you probably won't read it anyway, so what does it matter? I need to talk with you and you're doing exactly what I've done, what I'm apologizing for. For years I avoided this stuff and one of the reasons we split was that i couldn't stand up and address and tell you my problems. I was being a f*cking coward. And I've said sorry more times than I can count. I thought you might be on the road to forgiveness, to giving me a second chance. I know you felt the same way as me when you leaned into me and let me hold you when you cried- there's something more here, and I don't want you to ignore this. Can't we just try this? Please Y/n? I'm finally willing to step up, be a man, work through all this sh*t with you. Talk about it. I'm finally willing to be brave, and as soon as I am, you're doing the same thing you've yelled at me for years for doing- staying silent.

Charles Leclerc: I love you, Y/n, and this is a problem I desperately want to fix, but the truth of the matter is that you're being a f*cking hypocrite.

Me: How does it feel to be in the position you put me in for years?

You feel mean for typing that, and you're not sure how much you mean it. Maybe you meant to be kinder.

But the anger took over and your thumbs did the talking.

Charles leaves that message on read.

You sit in the cold metal chair, surrounded by pudgy, middle-aged parents and their gross kids all around you as a lone young mother sitting by herself. You're only here to see your son, and none of the other aspects of this situation bring you an ounce of joy.

All of a sudden, a shiver runs down your spine as a firm hand gently lands on your shoulder. Your head snaps up, meeting the gaze of Charles Leclerc. A look of disdain crosses your face, causing your heart to ache as you bluntly ask, "Why are you here?"

Charles takes a seat beside you in the vacant chair and casually remarks, "I've come to attend my son's school concert. And you?" A glimmer of amusement dances in his eyes.

Your jaw tightens in pure irritation, and you manage through gritted teeth in a tense, quiet tone, "Why did you choose to sit next to me?"

Charles hesitates, his expression softening, as he makes an effort to hold your gaze. "Well... Because I..." He swallows and says, "I'm not going to give up on you. That's why. So I figured I'd sit down next to you to watch my- our- son's concert. So..." Abruptly, he reaches for your hand, intertwining his fingers with yours. The veins in his hand are visible as he clasps yours tightly.

Your muscles tense, yet for some reason, you don't pull your hand away.

So throughout the whole school concert, Charles sits, gripping your hand, and seems to refuse to let it go.

And the moment the teacher is done on stage after the little production, thanking people for helping and the kids for doing such a great job and other stuff you don't listen to, Charles turns to you and says, "So, we have some minutes to spare."

Your eyebrows scrunch together. "Come again?"

He chuckles, but it doesn't feel called for. "You weren't listening to her? She said the students can be picked up from their classrooms by their parents in fifteen minutes."

Your jaw clenches again. "Charles, why?"

"Because I know you want it," he says incredibly earnestly. The inside of your heart melts as the outside hardens.

"But I don't think I do."

"But I know you do. Now come on." Your ex-husband stand up, pulling you up with him.

"Where are we going?" you ask. "And please let go of my hand. You've been holding it so long, it's starting to get sweaty."

He clicks his tongue and doesn't respond to either of these, then guides you down various hallways until you reach the school's exit. Finally, he sits down with you on a bench outside the school, and releases your hand.

"What are you doing?"

"Let's just hang out here for the next ten minutes, okay? We should talk," he says awkwardly, facing you.

"I don't get it. Charles, there's nothing you can do to-"

Charles interrupts, holding your face gently, gazing into your eyes. "Please, don't. Don't say that," he pleads, his thumb brushing your cheek. "There's something we can do. We can make this work... Please..."

His desperation, his begging, makes you want to cry. "Please just let it go... Let me go..."

"No, I don't want you to be trapped... Don't you see you'll be more free with me? You won't have to work as hard.. I'll take care of you and our son... I'll take half the work in the house you have to deal with... I'll... We'll... I just want you to believe that we'll be happier... I'm not saying we need to jump to anything today. I'm just saying, let's be kind to each other... Let's go out to eat sometimes, or go to our son's events together. Let's act just a little bit more like a family, even if we aren't yet. I just want to- I need to- I- I- I..." He trails off. His hands fall off your cheeks, and his shoulders slack. His head goes down.

It's like just the hard look in your eyes alone crushed him.

Like that alone is the huge weight he's bearing.

"F*** me, Y/n... F*** me," he whispers, his hands in his lap trembling. "I don't deserve you. I hurt you. Doesn't matter how much I changed. I still have to live through the consequences of my actions, don't I?" He seems to be talking more to himself, but you have no idea at this point. "Just f*** me." He exhales shakily, before suddenly standing up. He stares you right in your eyes, and your heart breaks when you see the hurt, the destroyed desperation. "It's fine, Y/n." He's trying to keep a level face. But his voice cracks. "I'll leave you alone. I'll let you go. I can see all this is just hurting you more. I never meant to hurt you more. I never meant to bring up the past to hurt you. I wanted to help you... I wanted to help you heal..." He drags a hand over his face. "But clearly I f***ing didn't. Clearly I messed it up again. I f***ing messed up again." He swallows. His eyes glimmer with wetness as he practically whispers, "The last thing I want is to hurt you. So I'll drop it. I'm just being selfish again, aren't I? I think this would be better, but you don't. And that's hurting you. And I never wanted to..." He swallows, his nose crunching up. Suddenly he yells, "I never wanted to hurt you ever again, because I love you, for f***'s sake! I love you, but I did hurt you, because, in the end, no matter what, I'm going to f*** it up anyway! So bye, Y/n!" Suddenly he turns on his feet. Like he doesn't want you to see him cry again. But you can hear the tears in his voice when the last thing he calls back is, "It will go back to normal, and we can pretend none of this ever happened! Pretend I'm a stranger! It's the best for you, anyway, apparently, and all I wanted was the best for you!"

You stare in shock as you watch him get in his car and drive away. You remain seated, gaze straight ahead. Tears well up in your eyes, and your body quivers, yet you manage to compose yourself, rise on unsteady legs, and compel yourself to return to the school to pick up your son.

But that just wasn't right.

I should have stopped him. I should have called him back. I should've.

How far can revenge go before it's gone too far?

For days, the guilt, the hurt, the rue- they weigh on you. Every moment of your days, it consumes your thoughts. Regret and confusion and anger fill you in every step, engulfing your every move. And if you thought you weren't getting any sleep before, now it's even worse.

You long to fix it, but you are unsure of how. Despite everything... You can't see how Charles isn't being honest. You want to have faith in him. A small part of you may even want to love him, just a little bit.

You're also fearful. Fearful of reaching out to him, because you don't know what you'd do. You have no idea.

But now you're dropping your son off at Charles's house. You swallow, and suddenly, on a whim, when you see Charles walking outside, waiting for Y/s/n, you get out of the car, too.

"Mama?" your son asks with a confused expression, still maintaining a little smile on his face.

You smile back down at him and say, "I'm walking you up to your daddy's house today, is all."

He shrug and nods, apparently accepting this.

He's such a good kid.

As you approach Charles, your smile twitches while you study him, but you say softly, "Hey, um... I... We..." Your tone sounds weak.

"Yes?" Charles asks, looking up. He looks perfect. As always.

Your eyes lock.

Please, Charles. I don't know how to say this. Please just understand.

His eyes remain blank. You let out a sigh.

And suddenly, you hug him.

Charles seems taken aback for only a moment, before he immediately hugs you back and says softly, "Hey... Want to come inside with me and Y/s/n?"

You nod. "Yes... Yes, please."

So Charles leads the two of you up to his flat. You sit down together on the couch, once again.

Last time you did this was the moment Charles cried out to you.

"Y/n, people change."

You swallow at the memory.

Is this another paradox? This time, will I be the one crying out to him?

Y/s/n is about to hop on the couch between you, but suddenly Charles scoops him up and says, "Hey, hey! I didn't get my hug from you yet, did I?!"

Your son giggles, getting comfortable on his father's lap, before giving him a big hug. "I scored a goal, Daddy..."

"You scored a goal?!" he grins. "Seriously?"

"Yeah! Mama cheered me on! I scored a goal when I played football!"

Charles looks so bright. Happy with his son. So proud. He doesn't get to see him as often as you do. "No way. You've got to be joking. Was it the winning goal?"

"Yep!" your son says proudly.

You find yourself smiling.

"Oh yeah, what was the score?"

Your son shrugs. "Dunno! But we won!"

You smile and mutter softly, "I think it was 4-1." Y/s/n plays in the little league team affiliated with his school.

"Yeah, but my goal made it 2-1, so I won it," he brags to his father.

Charles grins. "Oh, I'm sure it did. You know, I don't know where you got that talent for football from. Do you think Mama is good at football?"

Your son just shrugs with a grin, enjoying the affirmation from his father. "Dunno! But Mama is good at cuddling and playing with me."

Charles laughs. "Yeah, your mama takes good care of you." He glances at you with sparkling eyes, before looking back down at his son.

The two continue babbling on about sports and football and what not, until Charles finally ruffles his son's hair and says, "Well, buddy, I reckon it's time for me and Mama to have some alone time."

Y/s/n frowns. "Aw, why?"

"Because I want to talk with Mama about things that you won't care about. Boring grown-up stuff. Doesn't sound very fun, does it?"

Y/s/n shrugs, still looking uncertain.

"Hey, don't look so down. How about this? I'll go put on Cars for you. How's that sound?"

Your son grins at this, immediately jumping up, his demeanor changing abruptly. "Yeah, yeah!" he squeals, and you watch as Charles leaves with him to go set him up with that in another room.

But soon Charles is back. He gently shuts the door behind him as he enters the room, and immediately sits down next to you, facing you once more. "Hey, Y/n..." he says in a tentative but gentle tone.

You swallow. "Hey, Charles..." You feel yourself getting nervous again. "You're so... You're so good with Y/s/n."

He smiles. "You are, too."

There's no, And I'm sure we'd be even better with him together.

Charles meant it when he said he'd give up on it.

But you move closer to him. You take his hands. "This is a lot for me, Charles. I'm scared. I'm having issues with trust."

He nods slowly. "I know... I know..."

You swallow, and hug him again.

He holds you, hugging you back. He kisses your cheek. He whispers, "I understand if you're afraid. I understand if you're scared, or if you're having issues with trust. I'm so deeply sorry I've broken you like that."

Y/n, people change. And I can change.

The words come crashing into your mind like a ton of bricks, emerging from the depths of your memory.

"Charles-" you break in, your voice cracking. "Those words have haunted me."

"What words...?" he mutters softly.

You swallow. Breathe slowly. And you whisper, "You said to me 'Y/n, people change. And I can change.'"

"I have changed," he whispers.

"But," your voice cracks. "You said a lot of other s***, too. I remember, during our honeymoon..." A tear rolls down your face as Charles continues to hold you. "You said I'm yours and you're mine. You said we'd be forever. You said you'd do anything for me. You said we'd have three kids together, and you'd never stop loving me, and we would be a happy family. You said we'd grow old together, Charles. That's what you said. But all those promises- they were broken... They were broken."

"You didn't want them to be," he whispers calmly. "But don't you realize? Perhaps those promises were not broken, but rather, they have just not yet been fulfilled."

You look up at him, blinking. More tears roll down your cheeks. Charles gently wipes them away.

"I want to be able to fix what I did wrong. I want to be able to fulfill those promises I made to you. That's what I want, Y/n."

"Charles..." you breathe.

He looks so perfect.

"Yes?" he asks gently.

Your lip quivers, and you lean into his shoulder, and you sob.

And he lets you.

For however long, he holds you there, rubbing your back, letting you weep. Finally, you get a hold of yourself, and slowly pull away. You wipe your wet eyes with the backs of your hands, before sighing. "Charles, if we were to do this... If I were to give in..." You sniff. Your voice cracks again as you utter, "Please, don't hurt me again. I can't survive it again. I can't let you put me through that again..."

He pulls you to him again and whispers in your ear, "I won't. I won't. I won't let you down this time. Please don't be afraid of me... I want to love you... Let me love you... If you'll just let me, we can fix this... We have have a relationship in which we communicate more. Oh, Y/n..." he sighs. "Don't you realize how much I care? I- I would give my life for you."

You blink, staring at him.

Everything looks so promising. That's why you're scared.

It almost looks too promising.

"You say you would give your life for me. But would you really? Maybe you would you give your life for me if it meant losing it. But would you give your life to me while you're still alive? Would you clean the dishes? Would you help me when I'm sick? Would you grab an extra ingredient from the store if I needed it? Would you drive Y/s/n to school when you could? Would you really? You're gone half the year, as it is."

His jaw clenches, then un-clenches. "I would do anything and everything I could do for you. I want to share my life for you. Until death. And I'm one hundred percent sure on that. I've had years of thinking about this." There's hope in his lovely eyes.

So much hope.

You sigh, staring down at your lap.

"Y/n. I'm sorry. Please. Not only do I need your forgiveness. But your son does, too." He hesitates. "And I hope you know no matter what happens, the guilt of what I've done to you will weigh on me my whole life. That's why I want to fix it."

You gently slip your hand in his and whisper, "Please don't hurt me."

He wraps his fingers around your hand, holding it. "I won't."

You nod slowly, another tear rolls down your cheek, and it feels like all the molecules in your body are being ripped apart as you barely whisper, "Okay, Charles. We can try this again."

[apomaro-mellow]

Every Baby Needs a Daddy 4

Part 3

"And you said yes?", Robin said, her voice impressively even.

"I did", Steve said, phone on speaker as he got ready for work. "I figure, if he's going to have a sugar baby, might as well be me, right? I think this is the universe giving me a break."

"Okay, yeah, sure, until he takes you out and gets you involved in like drugs or something, or takes his anger out on you when he doesn't win a Grammy or something. Or worse, you're a mistress and his actual spouse comes for revenge. OR you actually get really involved with him, help him get even more famous, have very talented children, but then his drug running gets you arrested and when you get out of jail he acts like he doesn't know you and estranges your children!"

Steve paused in putting on his shoes, grinning. "You've been watching Empire."

"Terrence did Taraji so dirty Steve."

"But not enough to learn their characters' names. I need you to catch up so we can watch season 2 together." It hurt being away from her. Before, whenever one of them started obsessing over a show, they could literally sit down and put aside one of their days off to binge a bunch of episodes.

"Sorry, let's get back to you dating a rockstar? Steve? Steve."

"We're not dating. He's just gonna text me whenever he wants to fuck. That's it. He might buy me something nice from time to time." Steve grabbed his keys and went out the door, nearly stepping on something left on the floor in front of it.

"Okay, yeah, sure, but isn't this the reason you cut your parents out? Did they want this exact life for you?", Robin asked.

"No, this is totally different. For one thing, Eddie doesn't want commitment. He doesn't want kids out of me. And even if I attend events with him, I'm just arm candy, but you know, in a good way."

"There's a bad way to be arm candy?"

Steve thought back to the functions he had to go to when still under his parents' thumb. There was definitely a bad way to hang off someone's arm like a decoration. He looked to the little box in his hand. No note, but it had clearly been placed in front of his apartment.

He opened it and found an expensive looking watching inside. The face was a cool navy blue color. He didn't need a card to know who it was from.

"Eddie's different from the guys my parents wanted", Steve said. "And when it's over, I'll at least have something to show for it."

"Just don't be stupid about this, dingus. If this goes sideways, I won't be close by to save your ass."

"Noted", Steve said as he closed the box and continued on his way to work.

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

The next time Eddie texted him, it was to go to lunch. It was a more casual setting than before, but still a pretty high end sushi restaurant.

"I must admit, I called you here under false pretenses, Steve", Eddie said as they sat in a booth.

Steve smiled at his serious tone. "I gathered, given our whole arrangement." Being taken out somewhere was typically a prelude for something intimate later, even in a normal relationship. When Eddie asked him out, Steve full expected sex. He wasn't complaining, last time had been very nice. He wondered how long until Eddie sent a simple 'u up?' booty call.

"I have to attend some fancy lunch meeting in a couple days and they're taking us to a sushi place", Eddie started to explain. "Problem is, I hate sushi."

"...Did you...are we here to train your taste buds or something?", Steve asked.

Eddie nodded. "These are some pretty important people and I can't sit there and tell them my favorite fish is whatever they use for fish sticks."

"Pretty sure it's cod."

"What? Nevermind. I just need to get one of everything and force myself to acquire a taste for it", Eddie said, eyes narrowing in focus at the menu.

Steve smiled. It was cute how serious he was being. He thought back to previous gatherings when some alpha would try and force a drink on him or when the hors d'oeuvres being served weren't to his liking.

"Want some advice?", he offered, continuing when Eddie nodded with his big Bambi eyes, "Instead of forcing yourself to like something, you should be able to say why you don't like something."

"Sounds like complaining", Eddie said, putting the menu down.

"No, you sound cultured", Steve clarified. "Watch." He cleared his throat and held up his glass of water. "Thank you for offering, but I only drink water from a natural spring. I prefer Canadian or Icelandic, but I'll take Swedish if you have it. Nothing from Switzerland though, it has this horrid mineral after taste to it." He set the glass down, adjusting under Eddie's wide eyed gaze.

"I don't know if that was bullshit or not but it sounded legit."

"It's legit what some girl said at a party once. I've never sourced where my water came from, but it works for just about anything. If you can articulate why you don't like something, it comes off better than just saying you don't like it."

"What kind of parties did you go to?", Eddie smirked.

Steve shrunk a little. "Just, you know, parties. So what's your experience with sushi?"

"Supermarket stuff", Eddie said simply.

"....You're kidding. How long have you been a rockstar?"

"I didn't realize this was an interview."

Steve tapped the table as he considered something. He looked to the other part of the restaurant. The bar where chefs were preparing the food. He almost asked Eddie a question directly, but remembered his role as a sugar baby. It wasn't his job to ask how much something would cost or even to ask Eddie to spend the money. All he needed to do was ask for what he wanted.

So he moved over to Eddie's side of the booth and leaned in close to his space. "I think you need something a little more...fresh."

"Fresh?", Eddie echoed as Steve led him to stand.

"And flavorful."

"Uh-huh."

"And satisfying", Steve whispered the last part before sitting down at the bar.

Eddie didn't know when Steve got him here but he did and he ordered something called 'omakase' and suddenly the chef's hands got really busy. He put a little filet of something on rice and then took a blow torch to it.

"I didn't know you could cook the fish..."

It was placed in front of him, but Eddie was still skeptical, which Steve noticed.

"'Omakase' means you're trusting the chef to pick out the best for you", he said. Then Steve took his chopsticks and picked up his piece. He ate it in one bite and Eddie subconsciously swallowed as he watched it pass his beautiful lips and then slide down that gorgeous throat. He wasn't even eating sexily, that was just how far gone he was.

Then Steve picked up Eddie's piece and held it to his lips. Eddie didn't even hesitate to open up and let it in. Tender rice, delicate fish, a total opposite to the sushi he'd experienced before. And it didn't stop there. The chef served cut after cut and each time, Steve asked him what he liked or didn't like.

Eddie was no slouch when it came to language. So he was able to come up with that on his own. He had just never considered respectfully refusing food and to do so with a haughty air deserving of a celebrity.

"Mmm, great choice on the shrimp", Eddie praised the chef. "Texture is superb. Sweet on the tongue too. Nice one, Tatsuro-san."

"Better than the crab?", Steve asked.

"I'm sorry, but nothin' beats an old fashioned crab boil for me. It's the only way I can eat crab."

"You've got opinions and you know how to voice them. I never imagined that be an issue for you, but I think you're ready now."

"Oh I've got opinions out the wazoo. I was just taught to never complain about food."

"Good boy", Tatsuro commented as he prepared something else.

"Very good", Steve agreed as an oyster on a half shell was put in front of him and Eddie.

Tatsuro winked at Eddie and he tried not to think about it as they finished up the course. He was absolutely not thinking about how oysters were an aphrodisiac, or how he'd had a great time, or how this felt like a date and not an outing with a hot piece. He wasn't doing a good job of being a sugar daddy, was he?

Time to fix that up right away. He paid for the meal, leaving a generous tip and led Steve out the restaurant, arm around his waist.

"You were extremely helpful. I can honestly say I like sushi now", he beamed. "And I think excellent service deserves a reward."

"You gonna give me a tip too?", Steve teased. And there was certainly a tip Eddie wanted to give him. Really the whole thing, but he had another idea in mind. And thankfully the appropriate place wasn't too far from here.

"You're buying me a suit?", Steve realized as they walked into a tailor's.

"I've got an eye for these kind of things. And you need something to match your new watch", Eddie said. He had a feeling Steve knew what to do, so he let him free.

Steve gave him a look and Eddie made a 'go on' motion. So Steve went, picking out different pieces for himself to assemble a new suit. There was a man awaiting any need of assistance and did so once Steve came out of the dressing room and stood in front of the mirrors.

Eddie was sitting before him, watching as Steve appraised his reflection and the tailor took some of his measurements. The suit was in silver, with a black shirt underneath. He finished of the look with a dark blue handkerchief in the chest pocket. It already looked great. Eddie knew he'd be breathtaking once it was bespoke. He ached to put his hands on him but public decency kept him from doing so.

"You look good enough to show off", Eddie praised.

"You look like you have somewhere in mind", Steve said, looking at the other man through the mirror.

"There's a shindig goin' down that I wouldn't mind having a date to."

Eddie put in the order for the suit to be done the day before the event. "Let's head back to my place."

This time, as they traveled, Steve was the one who couldn't keep his hands to himself. His hand stroked Eddie's thigh, getting close to where he wanted but never actually touching.

"What're you thinking about?", he asked when he noticed how hard Eddie was holding the wheel.

"Oysters. And you." And how he really should get a personal driver on hand.

Steve laughed softly and let a finger do circles on his crotch. "I think our chef was trying to be subtle. But I know what oysters are supposed to do."

"Oh?"

"And I don't need any culinary suggestion to get me in the mood." Honestly, he kind of felt like blowing Eddie now and probably would have chanced it if it wasn't still light out. "Can you be a good boy like he said?"

Eddie nodded.

"Good. Because we still have to take the elevator."

They didn't get as far as they did the first time they took this elevator but Eddie did attach himself to Steve's back and kissed at his neck. Once again, Steve could see their reflection in the wall. Eddie's eyes roamed his torso, wanting to go further but holding back. He only got bold enough to pinch a nipple through his shirt when the doors opened to their floor.

Steve only moved because of Eddie's prompting, finding it very easy to melt in his hold. They got about two steps out of the elevator before Eddie pushed him against the wall, kissing his lips and running his hands up under his shirt.

"Saw you lookin' at yourself in the elevator. Pretty baby likes how he looks?"

Steve's only response was to moan against his lips and rub against his leg. The closest camera was all the way at the end of the hall, though they'd be screwed if anyone opened up their door. He knew he looked good and liked looking good. And he'd seen the way Eddie's eyes were glued to him at the tailor's. That was a good feeling too.

Eddie took out his key card to open up his door and pulled Steve inside. They migrated to the couch, just needing to get horizontal. Steve lied underneath, Eddie's leg in between his again and providing friction as he rutted up against it. It was so hot, Eddie wanted to watch him get off just like this. If he got his pants off he could watch that sweet pussy drag-

Steve nearly jolted off the couch when a loud guitar riff sounded from Eddie's back pocket.

"Shit", Eddie hissed when he realized who was calling. He could ignore it, but he knew they'd just keep it up until they got to his door.

"You need to take that?", Steve asked, voice a little breathless.

"Just-just gimme a moment, it'll be quick." Eddie answered and Steve could be patient. He just couldn't be good and patient. He rubbed at Eddie's arm before taking his hand in his own. He brought it to his lips and swirled his tongue around his index finger, keeping his gaze down at first and then looking up at Eddie.

The man above him was speechless, up until whoever he was talking to shouted at him from the other end and got his attention again. Well, half of it anyway. The other half was on Steve sucking down two of his fingers now. Eddie groaned both in frustration and the beautiful man under him. Steve was only half following the conversation but it sounded like their time together might be cut short.

Eddie hung up with a sigh. "Baby...baby I gotta go."

"Right now?", Steve asked.

"Yeah but...but if you could, I mean you can stay here until I get done. It'll be quick, just a couple of hours tops. And I can take you out to dinner too."

"You want me to stay?"

Eddie's hair shook as he nodded. He stood up, glad he had a bit of time to calm his boner down. Then he saw Steve lying there on the couch, lips kissed wet and certain his lips farther down were just as glistening. He leaned over to cup him between the legs, feeling the warmth through his clothes.

"Don't forget who this belongs to", he growled when Steve whimpered.

"Okay." And because this man was sent from above, he whispered, "Daddy."

Eddie couldn't hold back then, kissing him hard, tongue marking his insides while rubbing Steve through his pants. He unzipped them, thinking he could just get him off quick when the ringtone sounded again. Pulling back was the hardest thing to do.

"Keep it nice and warm for me", Eddie said before fully removing himself.

"Hurry back."

And then Steve was alone. In a rockstar's hotel room. He thought about what a sugar baby might do when their daddy went off for what must be a very important but impromptu meeting, especially when it stopped such a heated moment. It became very obvious what he needed to do and so he headed straight for the bedroom.

Part 5

I need you to know that when I first envisioned this fic it was literally just supposed to be smut with connecting scenes but it somehow turned to "don't catch feelings" and "oops we're accidentally dating" the fic so here we are.

Tag Team

@awkotaco24 @lingeringmirth @littlewildflowerkitten @estrellami-1 @tartarusknight @velocitytimes2 @mrsjellymunson @trashcanniballecter @marklee-blackmore @dragonmama76 @paintsplatteredandimperfect @a-little-unsteddie @sllooney @starman-jpg @oxidantdreamboat @xxbottlecapx @chaosgremlinmunson @newtstabber @tiny-enthusiast @desidrarry-wolfstarshipper @y4r3luv @hello-fellow-nerds @anonymousbandgirl @alyelf @potato-of-the-lord @beckkthewreck @greatwerewolfbeliever @croatoan-like-its-hot @pluto-pepsi

[theidiotwhowritesthings]

A Fresh Start [3]

Din Djarin x F!Reader

Warnings: use of reader’s fake name, reader is on the run from her past, remember?, self-doubt, i think that’s it🤷🏻‍♀️

Word Count: 4,045

Summary: When you made plans for your future they never involved being hired by a Mandalorian to baby-sit his adorable, green gremlin of a child. However, after your life fell apart in the span of one disastrous night,  you found it to be the only feasible option you had left. Nevarro was a  far cry from Coruscant, but the thriving community turned out to be  exactly what you needed. Every day you spend in Nevarro you fall more  and more in love with your new life, but when your past rears its ugly  head you find that perhaps peace wasn’t meant for everyone.

Chapter #03: MARSHAL DADDY

Chapter Summary: It’s difficult to eat dinner with someone who wears a helmet.

  “The greatest act of courage is to be & own all that you are. Without apology. Without excuses & without any masks to cover the truth of who you truly are.” ⏤Unknown

They say it takes three days to build a habit. Three days of an activity then your body and brain begin to crave that routine. You found that to be true, and by the fourth day of living and working for Nevarro's Mandalorian Marshal you were mostly comfortable. You had a schedule at least. In the mornings, you’d get Grogu up and start on breakfast while Mando got ready for work. Like you assumed, Grogu slept in Mando’s bedroom. There was a hammock style set up in a corner of the room surrounded by plush toys, animals, and thick blankets⏤ like a little nest. Then the Marshal would go to work and you’d spend the day with Grogu. Doing light chores around the house when able. Mando would be back from work before the sun went down and you’d have dinner ready for them. If that were all that was involved you’d consider yourself a pro already.

However, like most things in life, it wasn’t quite that simple.

Dinner time still felt rather awkward and you weren’t sure what to do with that. Mando didn’t plan on taking his helmet off around you, information you had gathered not been told, and Grogu was accustomed to seeing his father’s face in the evening. The first night you stayed in the house, you took dinner to your room to eat with the excuse of having to unpack. That’s where you hid until the house grew quiet because you were terrified of stepping out of your room and accidentally seeing Mando’s face. You weren’t sure the logistics of it all, but obviously the stories about Mandalorians not showing their face to the public were true and you’d feel awful if you screwed that up for him.

The next few nights you tried a similar tactic, but you could tell Mando felt odd about the entire scenario. Maybe he felt bad that you were hiding away in a house you technically lived in, or maybe he hated the idea of someone lurking in a back bedroom, but it was obvious this was not going to work. So, you made the excuse that Nima wanted to hang out, and on your third and fourth night you met your friend at the local cantina to drink. Mando preferred to do Grogu’s night time routine anyways so he got the kid into bed. You just had to be there in case he got called into work⏤ which hadn’t actually happened yet.

The point was, your system needed adjusting, but you were still in your first week of work. Obviously there would be issues and hopefully time would be the solution to it all.

“So, is this just where you’re going to live from 7:30 to 9:30 every single day?” Nima asked.

You rolled your eyes. “Of course not.” As a side note, you mumbled under your breath. “I can’t afford to drink that much.” Mando and you had agreed on a more than fair wage, but your salary wasn’t going to go far if you kept blowing it on drinks with Nima. “We’re still figuring things out.”

“Has he offered any solution?”

“I don’t want him to offer. I want to figure it out myself.” You argued. “That’s his  home. I’m intruding. I hate that he feels uncomfortable in any way.”

Nima pointed her glass toward you. “Counter argument. It’s your home now. He’s  paying  you to be there. You shouldn’t feel uncomfortable either.”

“It’s⏤It’s more complicated than that.” You said. “It’s not like he’s doing this just to do it. The helmet thing is part of being Mandalorian, I think, and the only time he is free of that is with his son in the evening. I don’t want to take that from them.”

“Cara says it’s not all Mandalorians.”

“What?”

“Apparently there are different kinds, or something, and they have different beliefs.” Nima replied. The two of you were sitting at the bar on stools you had claimed to be your own this week. Behind you the cantina was buzzing with life and music. This was a popular place to be in the evening, you weren’t alone in your routine. “The Marshal is part of the group that can never reveal their face to any living thing. But he shows it to his son so maybe that’s the exception.” Nima clapped you on the shoulder. “That’s it! You just gotta be adopted by him!”

“I don’t want to be adopted by the Mandalorian.” You snorted and lifted your drink to your lips.

“Why? You can call Marshal Mando ‘daddy’. Mmm, Marshal Daddy.”

You inhaled your sip of spotchka at her words and began to choke. Nima laughed in glee while you tried to cough up the blue, burning liquid that now resided in your lungs. When it was clear enough for you to speak, you glared at her. “Seriously?”

“He’s hardly my type, but there must be something about him considering how worked up the single women in this town get over him.” Nima shrugged. You chuckled in response. She wasn’t wrong. On your first day of being a nanny, Torlee had given you rather a cold greeting and she hadn’t been the only one. There were a handful of random people around town who would give you the stink eye as if you had stolen something from them. “So? What is it? You date guys. Tell me the secret.”

To be honest, you weren’t entirely sure. You had your guesses. There was something about the strong silent type that tended to strike up intrigue, and Mando was nothing if not strong and silent. It was really cute hearing stories about how serious and deadly he could be as Marshal and then watch him hold full conversations with his son at home. Duality of man, you supposed. Then there was his figure alone. Somehow, it left nothing to the imagination while also leaving plenty for a person to imagine. You, and everyone else it seemed, had no idea what he looked like under all that armor, but by the Maker was his shoulder to waist ratio godly.

Personally, you hadn’t caught the bug for him. Probably because, despite knowing he was human, you couldn’t stop picturing large green ears tucked into the helmet. As if Grogu had taken after him somehow. It was ridiculous, and you knew Grogu was adopted, but if imagining an aged up Grogu under the suit kept you from drooling over the man then it was for the best. He was your boss after all.

“I don’t know the secret.” You finally replied. “But if I figure it out, you’ll be the first to know.”

Grogu’s eyes had already fluttered close, soft snores drifting from him, but Din couldn’t bring himself to set the child down yet. Peli told him dozens of times that it wasn’t good to let the kid fall asleep in his arms. Children were supposed to learn how to fall asleep on their own. Din figured Grogu could learn that skill later in life. Letting his son fall asleep in his arms was quite possibly his favorite part of their night time routine. It was when Din felt the most at peace.

Din continued to lightly rock Grogu as he stood in place by his bed. A soft buzzing sound had him reaching over to his dresser to pick up the communicator that rested there.

  ‘I’m home! Are you in your room?’

‘Yes.’  Din sent back. Seconds later he could hear the front door lightly click shut followed by quiet footsteps. They passed his bedroom, and Din stared at his communicator a second longer before typing,  ‘Good night.’

  ‘Good night to you too. Hope Grogu didn’t give you too much trouble.’

Din struggled with a response before deciding to just set his communicator aside. You were hardly a stranger at this point, but he still found himself at a loss of words. It didn’t help that the two of you were caught in quite the dilemma. Din didn’t know how to fix this problem. Well, he did, but it wasn't a step he was prepared to take.

The easiest solution was to take his helmet off and show you his face. Easiest in the sense that it was the least complicated, but in terms of how ready he was to handle that⏤ it may be the most difficult solution. Technically speaking, he wasn’t a Mandalorian right now. Apostate. That’s what the Armorer had called him, and he could hardly argue otherwise. Din had taken his armor off with Mayfield in order to find where Moff Gideon had taken his son. Mayfield had seen his face. Then, when he thought he was saying good-bye to his son, he removed his helmet once more. Grogu saw his face. Cara saw his face. Fennec and Bo-Katan. At that point, he knew he should never place it on his head again, but he had.

When the Armor asked him if any living thing had seen his face, he knew what the outcome would be. His creed had been lost. Boba had spoken to him for a long time about the Children of the Watch and about the reputation his helmet carried. According to the older man, there was more to the creed than hiding his face. Boba Fett was someone he respected greatly. His opinion on the matter held great weight, but in the quiet of the night Din still found himself doubtful. The Armorer agreed to redemption after all. If Din returned to Mandalore, bathed in the Living Waters, then he would be Apostate no longer. That had been his plan until Karga offered him a home and job here.

Din's plan had been to turn it down, carry forth with his mission to redeem himself, but upon further thought he didn't want to take Grogu to a potentially poisoned planet. Maybe one day, but for now he wanted peace. He wanted a life with his son, and Nevarro gave that to him. As he hadn’t redeemed himself yet, as he was still Apostate, that meant Din was free to take his helmet off right now. Technically speaking he had no creed to uphold, not until he went on his journey to Mandalore, but he still hadn't been able to bring himself to reveal his face to anyone but his foundling. He told himself it was because he didn't want to break his creed any further than he already had before finding redemption, but sometimes he wondered if that was all.

He spent a majority of his life wearing this helmet. It was a shield that separated him from the rest of the world. To be honest, Din didn't know how to go about his day with his face out for any stranger to see. He never wanted to admit to fear, but this gripped his soul. Up until now, he was able to push the thoughts aside and just live his life with Grogu by his side. It wasn't until you came into the equation that things changed. Now, he was forced to confront these thoughts.

What were his options? Show his face to you or fire you? The latter wasn't a feasible. Grogu had already grown attached, and Din would be lying if he said he hadn’t as well. Having you around was a relief. It had taken a weight off his shoulders he hadn’t been aware he was carrying. Hiring you had been a very, very good decision. Now, he just had to figure out how to keep you.

At the end of the day, he did not regret the choices he made regarding his helmet. If Din had to relive those days he would make the same choices over and over and over again. In his entire life, he never thought he’d find something worth more to him than his creed, but he had been proven wrong. Grogu was more important. His son. Din would reveal his face to the world twelve times over if it meant he could keep Grogu safe. He’d suffer the Armorer’s disdain and be exiled repeatedly if it meant he got to keep his son by his side⏤ help raise him and watch him grow.

Din did not regret the position he found himself in, but he did not know where to go from here. He couldn't expect you to hide away when the sun went down every day. DIn could argue that showing you his face would be for Grogu's benefit. Revealing his full identity to you was for his son. That's a sacrifice he's always been able to make. Still, he struggled.

With a soft sigh, Din set Grogu into his hammock and tucked him in. He snuggled deeper into the space and Din smiled at the action.

Solving this issue would take just one minute of decisive action. Don't think, just act. He was good at that. Din ran a hand through his hair, probably only making it messier, and readjusted his plain shirt and sweatpants. He didn’t have a mirror in his room, wasn’t used to needing one, and for the first time he felt annoyed by that fact. Settling in his resolve, Din stepped out of his room and quietly treaded to your closed door.

Din went to knock, but he found his hand hovering over the wood, 'What if she doesn't like the way I look?'

The thought was involuntary. It shoved to the forefront of his mind without any kind of warning. What? Where had that even come from? His eyebrows furrowed in confusion. That shouldn’t be something he cared about, yet now he couldn't shake it free.

He found you attractive. It was one the first thing he noticed, but he didn’t pay it any attention. His dating history was by no means extensive, but he was still a red blooded man. Din was just used to putting that kind of information to the back of his mind. Especially since Grogu became a part of his life. He hadn’t pursued anyone since he found Grogu. It just hadn’t been a priority to him.

Granted, you were difficult to ignore. He thought you were beautiful, and he thought it was cute that you tended to ramble anytime you got nervous. Plus, watching you with his son was addicting. Din could watch you play and chat with Grogu all day long. That had to be it. He was just hypnotized by the domestic bliss you carried with you. There was nothing more. If he was better at convincing himself of that then this would probably be easier. Din planned to knock, he wanted to, but despite logically working through the issue the question still remained and he found himself embarrassed that he had such a silly concern.

The sound of muffled steps alerted him that a decision needed to be made. His body was moving on its own accord, and he backpedaled silently to slip back in his room. Seconds later he heard your door open followed by the bathroom door opening and closing. Din rubbed his face and shuffled over to his bed to fall into it.

Tomorrow. He’d try again tomorrow.

As your alarm began to blare, you blindly reached out to your nightstand table to silence it. You laid in bed a moment longer, stretching each limb, then sat up with a groan. Around this time in the morning, Mando was getting ready for work and Grogu would be in the process of waking up. You climbed out of bed and wandered out to the bathroom to use the toilet and quickly brush your teeth. Still dressed in your pajamas, you peered into Mando’s bedroom assuming that since the door was open it would be safe.

“Grogu?” You whispered and tiptoed in. Typically, you’d find him chilling in his hammock waiting for you to scoop him up. He was always the cutest and most cuddly when you picked him up in the mornings. Today though, you were greeted with an empty bed. “Huh.”

You turned out of the room and walked down the hall. You could hear Mando softly talking to Grogu, and Grogu’s giggly, mostly nonsensical responses drifting toward you. There was something odd about Mando’s voice, something your mind couldn’t place, but in your morning haze you didn't think to stop and puzzle out why. You stepped through the archway into the kitchen just to freeze.

Standing at the stove was a man.

His back was to you and you could see Grogu’s ears from where he was being held in one arm. He wore a plain gray t-shirt that was thin enough to see the outline of his shoulder blades and back. His sweatpants hung on his hips and that shoulder to waist ratio was undeniably familiar. This was the Mandalorian. You were staring at Mando. His helmet was resting on the counter by the stove. Soft, messy brown hair covered his head. The ends looked like they naturally curled, and you couldn’t tear your eyes away from the tan skin rising up from his collar to where his hair met the nape of his neck.

You were so in awe that it took a second to realize the situation you were currently in.

This was Mando.

You were staring at Mando.

Helmet less Mando.

You couldn’t hold back the gasp that left you, and you quickly shut your eyes⏤ slapping your hands over them as well for good measure.

"Soran?" You heard Mando call out to you in surprise, but you spun around to leave the room. Unfortunately, in your panic, you misjudged where you stood and instead of rushing through the archway you ran straight into the wall. You yelped in pain and since you were too afraid to pull your hands from your eyes to catch yourself you ended up falling on your ass instead. You grunted, and Mando cursed. “Dank farrik.”

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry!” You blurted. “I am so sorry, Mando.”

“Are you alright?” Mando’s voice was altered once more to the tone you were most familiar with as it came through the voice modulator. "Soran?" He called out again in concern, and you could feel him kneeling near you. "Are you-"

You shook your head and didn't let him speak. “Mando, I am so sorry. I swear to the Maker, I didn’t see you.” You paused. “That’s sort of a lie. I saw the back of your head. You have brown hair. Really nice brown hair, but definitely brown hair. I swear though, I didn’t see your face.”

“You did nothing wrong.” Mando said. “You can open your eyes.”

His voice sounded like he was wearing his helmet, but you still found yourself nervous. You peeked through one eye between your fingers, hesitant, but when you saw silver beskar you breathed out a sigh of relief. Mando was knelt beside you, one hand resting on the archway you ran into, so his entire frame hovered over you. It still felt odd to see his bare arms, and now with him facing you it was clear to see all of his neck and his collarbones. You were gawking. You needed to stop. Luckily, Grogu was standing in front of you with his hands held over his closed eyes much like you had just been sitting. You chuckled and at the sound he peeked through his own hands.

Finally, you lifted your gaze back to the t-shaped visor, “Mando⏤”

He held up a hand, stopping your flow of words, and spoke firmly, “Are you injured?”

“Not physically. My pride hurts a decent bit.” You admitted. Mando let out a breathy laugh and the sound caught you off guard. You really hadn’t spent all that much time with him let alone spent the time making him laugh. You were mostly with Grogu. “I am sorry though.”

“If anyone is at fault, it’s me. I forgot to warn you I wasn’t working today, and I’m the one out in the open without my helmet.”

“Yeah, but this is your house. You have every right to wander all over this place, helmet less or not.” You replied. Just last night you had been talking to Nima about this issue, and it was growing more problematic by the second. You sighed. “Maybe… Maybe I should move out?” Mando stiffened and slowly tilted his head at you. “I can get a place in town, real close, and just come here in the morning before you leave for work and then leave when you get back.” Grogu crawled into your lap cooing and you wrapped your arms around him. “If you ever need me in the night you can just message me and I’ll run right over.”

Mando didn’t immediately reply and you nervously began to play with Grogu’s ears. The kid giggled and the sound was almost a good distraction for the tension in the air. Finally, Mando spoke up, “Are you... comfortable living here?”

“Am I⏤? Of course!” You said. “You’ve been so welcoming and my room is great and the job is perfect⏤” You shook your head. “You’ve been wonderful, Mando. I just don’t wanna make you uncomfortable.”

“I’m not uncomfortable." He replied in a tone that settled the matter. "And if you’re not uncomfortable then,” Mando shrugged, “I think you should stay.”

There was a warmth in his voice that brought a broad smile to your face. Grogu bounced in your lap and he held his hands up toward your face. You leaned in so he could pat your cheeks. “Okay. Besides, how could I stand to be so far away from my bestest buddy?”

Mando pushed to stand and then he held out a hand for you to take. The urge to stare and take in every inch of it was weirdly tempting, but you let him pull you up to your feet. Mando cleared his throat and rubbed the back of his neck. “I’m actually glad you’re up. Grogu wants something for breakfast, and he’s unhappy with all my attempts.”

“Egg.” Grogu blurted, staring up at you. “Egg. Egg. Egg.”

“He sounds like a Jawa.” Mando mumbled. “I made eggs, but he didn’t want them.”

You glanced over at the stove where a frying pan sat by a carton of eggs. Grogu’s high chair had a small bowl of untouched scrambled eggs. You chuckled. “I think he wants an omelet. I made it for him yesterday and he loved it.”

“Egg!” Grogu agreed.

“Here, I can make it.” You held Grogu out to Mando who took him. The Mandalorian murmured something to his son in Mando’a that you didn’t catch. It reminded you that you meant to talk to Mando about this. Grogu used a handful of words in that language, but because you didn’t recognize them it made communication difficult. You had been working with Grogu on words in Basic, and you’d love to add some Mando’a vocabulary to it. You just needed to know it first. You went to the fridge to pull out cheese and a few vegetables that you knew Grogu liked.

Mando stood behind you, leaning against the kitchen counter top with his son in his arms, and you glanced over your shoulder only once to admire him.

“What?” He questioned.

“Sorry. It’s just so weird to see you out of the suit of armor.” You chuckled.

“Bad weird?”

“No,” You replied quickly, “It just ruins the mental image I had of green skin and big ears.”

Mando laughed again, “Sorry to disappoint.”

“I’ll just have to learn to live with it, I suppose.”

The kitchen was filled with Grogu laughing as his dad tickled him and the sizzling of breakfast. Typically, you were here alone wrestling the green bean while trying to make him food. It wasn’t overly difficult and you still enjoyed it, but there was something kind of calming from having Mando here as well and that caught you off guard. The lack of his full suit of armor might play a role in that. In the early morning light wearing his pajamas and playing with his son, he looked so… human.

“I was wondering, do you, uh, have plans today?”

You flipped the omelets in the skillet then looked over at Mando with a grin. “Well, until five minutes ago I thought I was on Grogu duty.”

“Right.” Mando blurted. “I’m sorry, I should’ve told you sooner⏤”

“I’m joking, Mando. What were you thinking?”

He paused briefly, “Well, there’s a traveling market here today. Local vendors and some from neighboring worlds." Mando said. “I can show you around. If you're interested that is."

You finished with both omelets and went to grab a set of plates. “I’d love that!” You set both plates on the counter by Mando. “Sounds fun. Here. You boys have breakfast and I’ll go get ready for the day. Yeah?” Mando pushed off the counter and pointed to the omelet with a slight tilt of his head. You nodded. “It’s yours.” You point to his, then his son’s omelet. “You, Grogu.”

“What about you?”

“I’m not a big breakfast eater, don’t worry.” You shrugged. “Take your time too, don’t rush. I’m gonna take a shower this morning so you and Grogu can enjoy.”

“Oh. Thank you.”

Excited for the day, you hurried upstairs to get ready. You were interested to see the small marketplace become more lively with outside visitors. You were sure the lively city was even more bright today. Plus, this would be an opportunity to get to know your boss a little bit better. Maybe if the two of you were a little more comfortable with one another then hiding from him in your room during dinner time would be a bit less awkward.

[simonsrosebud]

ik I'm late to the party but omg.... abram boyd.... I'm sobbing that's so sweet 😭😭 pls tell me more about them

AHHH THANK YOU I LOVE HIM

Abram has certified protective big brother energy, but since he isn’t a big brother this goes to his girl friends at college instead. Palmetto is a safe campus, but he (and Elliot by association) still always end up getting their girl friends back to the dorms safely no matter what. I’m talking if two of their friends are fucked up before he even gets there he will leave the bar 10 minutes in just to get them home and then come BACK. (this is based on my sisters friend at lsu and it’s so wholesome)

Abram’s relationship with Neil is interesting bc he’s growing up as Neil is traveling in the pros in his late 20’s. However, Neil visits whenever it’s convenient and once he gets in the groove of this whole godfather thing he treats Abram like he’s his uncle bc he sees how Andrew is with Aaron’s girls. He keeps up with his schedule when he starts playing little leagues and makes Dan send pictures. She sends first day of school updates and a picture of a little Abram missing his two front teeth.

Abram gets a Josten Court jersey and wears it until it stinks. He gets new ones when he outgrows them. By his third one Matt gets him a huge one to grow into as a grown man. He does indeed grow into it.

Neil sends him post cards with a little letters written inside when he’s 4 and Abram loves it so much that Dan facetime’s Neil like 2 weeks after he got the first one but it’s just Abram’s face all up in the camera. “When will I get anover wetter, uncle Neil?” “Oh!” instant delight “It must still be in the mail, buddy, but just keep an eye on the mailbox, okay?” “Okay… do you wanna see your wetter?! I put it on my wall, uncle Neil!”

Neil is the first to start calling him B, firstly bc calling someone else Abram is something he has to get used to. Secondly because Abram acknowledges it as Neil’s nickname and stubbornly doesn’t let anyone else call him it.

Matt retires from exy at like 32 when Abram is 3. Matt’s exy team loyalties lie where his friends are at, so Matt, Jace, and Abram make it a thing to watch every game. Abram can’t keep track of Neil is and gets frustrated by it. Matt mentions it while laughing, two games later Neil has the butt of his stick wrapped in orange. After that Abram keeps saying, “Ope, there’s uncle Neil again …. There’s- I see orange, Daddy! …. There he goes again! …. Look! Uncle Neil!!”

Andrew may have been the one humanizing Neil, but Abram is the one who softens him.

Abram used to hold onto Addie or Annie’s hands and just follow them around at Fox reunions, which got more frequent throughout the years and is why/how the fox kids all got close.

Abram plays minecraft but just creative mode. He likes adventure or sports videogames while his brother likes Call of Duty and whatnot.

BIG lego kid until he’s like 14.

As a teenager, Abram and Neil text so much and talk on the phone a lot. About exy, about French help bc he’s learning it in school, about some fantasy show that Abram somehow got Neil into, about sports and college applications and when he can come visit again. And then about who these new kids in Neil’s house are and are they gonna stay a while? should we add them to the cousin gc? hey how’s elliot doing? and hey can you send me elliot’s number? and if i’m doing all this hard work to keep the strikers away the least our strikers could do is do something with the ball i keep getting to them, anyway, are you guys bringing blake and elliot to thanksgiving? i’m excited to meet them. and i know ur gonna be weird if i ask you about guys but im pretty sure i have a crush on one and im kinda freaking out and im scared to tell my parents and-

Matt is so loving when he comes out to him and Dan, hugging Abram really tight and just telling him he loves him and he’s so proud of him and Abram cries a little.

The first time he kisses a boy (bc crushes are only from afar) it’s freshman year of college and it’s because he starts looking at Elliot too often for too long and needs to get that shit out of his head bc that’s his best friend.

Abram has lunch with Dan like twice a month because she tries to stay out of his hair since she’s the exy coach at PSU.

When he and Elliot get together he finds he loves to wrap Elliot up in his clothes.

Elliot goes to all of his home games with their friends and cheers obnoxiously. Abram loves it. He also… fucks Elliot while he wears his soccer jersey.

He is definitely a gentle giant, but once he and Elliot get together he throws that boy AROUND in the bedroom.

there’s a lot more about him but i hope that’s good for tonight hehe

[i-spaced-sorry]

Hi

I just wanted to tell you that I love your writing so much!!!!

Also I was wondering if you could please write a Jay Helstead x little sister reader??

Like maybe Jay has had custody of her since she was a baby and now she starts asking questions about their parents. Like why it has only ever been Jay taking care of her and where is her mom? Maybe the reader is like 6, just started kindergarten and maybe this is what stems the question asking (other kids talking about their own parents and asking why the reader only ever talks about Jay)

Thank you for all that you do

this is 100% your choice and feel free to make any changes

Hi! Thanks for requesting! I hope you like it, it kind of went dark! I'm also enjoying playing around with writing time skips, so I hope you enjoy that (if not, sorry)

TW: mention of past abuse, mention of death during childbirth

Title: Why?

“Why” you asked while you sat down to eat your cereal.

Almost dropping the coffee pot, you watched as your brother Jay placed it back on the machine and sighed, “I thought we left this stage when you were 3”

“No, why” you tried again, beginning to whine when your brother didn’t understand your vague question. 

Sitting across from you at the table, Jay placed his coffee down and asked, “why, what? I need more than just a word.”

You chewed your cereal bite and swallowed before you wiped your mouth with the back of your hand. 

“Why is it just you and me and occasionally Will? What happened to mommy and daddy?”

Jay knew this day was coming. Though he was hoping it wouldn’t happen until you were at least out of elementary school. But he should have known better, 6yr olds are relentless if he remembered his time in school correctly. 

“Uh, just because it was easier this way. Can I ask where this is coming from?”

***

“And where did she say it was coming from?” asked Hailey, while the two of them sat in the surveillance van watching the corner store for their suspect. 

Continuing the look through the binoculars, Jay responded, “some of her friends were talking about how they were excited for some donuts and dads party their class is having in a few weeks.” 

“Okay, follow up question, what did you tell her when she asked?” asked Hailey, putting a pin in the stupid class party that definitely is leaving kids who don’t have dads out. 

Turning to face his partner, he wiped his hand down his face and sighed, “I panicked and told her it was easier this way.”

“Jay. You didn’t answer her question at all.”

“I know, but what was I supposed to say? Hey Y/N, you live with me because mom died during childbirth and dad went off the rails and abused you mentally for the first 3 yrs of your life and it wasn’t until I came home from the War that I realized how bad it had got and now dad is in jail and you have a restraining order against him where if he comes within 50 ft of you, I’m allowed to tackle him and call the police on him? Yea, I’ll pass”

Laughing slightly at her partner's bluntness, Hailey replied, “I’m not saying say all that to your 6yr old sister. But I do think she deserves some explanation”

When she notices her partner opening his mouth to protest, she adds, 

“Age appropriate Jay. Age appropriate.”

**

You were sitting at the kitchen table coloring, while your babysitter for the evening, Stella, was putting together your after school snack. 

“Okay munchkin, here is your snack” she said as she placed your apple slices and peanut butter beside you. Seeing your paper she asked curiously, “what ya coloring there?”

Not looking up you replied, “a picture duh” 

“Okay sassy pants” was all Stella replied before walking away trying to process what you drew. 

When Jay got home, he thanked Stella and walked her to the door. 

“Thanks again, Eva was stuck studying for her final exams and I didn’t want her to be torn away every few minutes to deal with the monkey”

While shrugging on her coat, Stella smiled, “it’s no problem. I like hanging out with Y/N. Though, I don’t know what’s going on with her, but she was drawing some interesting pictures this afternoon”

That caught Jay’s attention, “interesting how?” he probed. 

“Nothing bad, just she was drawing a shadowy figure outside the house, you, Will, and her were inside, but she was crying in her drawing.”

Sighing, Jay replied, “thanks”

And with that Stella left and he shut the door behind her and turned around. 

“Now or never” he muttered. 

Walking over to where you were eating dinner, Jay sat down. 

“Do you want to hear about why it’s just you and me and occasionally Will?”

You looked up from your spaghetti, “Yes!” you just about screamed while nodding your head insistently. 

“Okay, so when you were being born, mommy was not very well. The doctors had to make a decision. And I want you to know the decision that was made is not and will never be your fault.”

You felt tears prick your eyes, “mommy died?” 

Jay felt his own eyes prick, “Yes, but I will tell you as many stories about her. Whenever you want. And I bet you, Will, will too , if you ask him nicely.” 

You stared for a few moments taking everything in. “Okay, so that explains mommy. What about daddy?”

Jay didn’t really know how to appropriately tell you that your dad had abused you, so he went with a toddler age appropriate response and hoped you wouldn’t probe for more. 

“So, when mommy died, I went away right”

“To fight a war!” you inserted!

Nodding, Jay kept going, “yes, to fight a war. So it was just you and dad. But dad was really sad about mom and he did some bad things. Will and I didn’t know what these bad things entailed until I came home and Will came back from school for the summer.”

“Bad things?” you inquired. 

Mentally screaming fuck, Jay calmly replied, “he was hurting and took it out on others and was just not being a good dad. So he had to go away for a long time.”

“But why you? Why not Will or grandma or grandpa?” you probed. 

“Will was still in school and wasn’t in a good spot to care for himself, go to school, and care for you. Grandma and Grandpa both have their own slew of health issues and we thought it would be better if they didn’t have to restart the parenting process. I had come home from the war for good by that time and it was decided I had the most stable housing and money coming in. So that’s how it was decided it would be me, you, and occasionally Will.”

You thought for a few minutes, taking in everything you just learned. When you finally slipped out of your chair, came around the table and hugged your brother exclaiming, “thank you” over and over again.

[lillypad910]

Making Our Home Part 1

Pairing: abused!Billy Hargrove x abused!F!reader

Part 2

Uses (y/n) because I hate “x readers” that are actually OCs

Word Count: 7,789 (yes exactly, I wrote this in my notes app and copied it to word for this count and I went “OH” and this is only about HALF of the note so- still have an extra part that’s already another 7k words).

Warnings: MINORS DO NOT INTERACT!! smut, unprotected sex, protected sex, swearing, violence, blood, abusive parents (both reader’s parents and Billy’s dad), “cheating” (Billy and reader aren’t actually dating), Billy is a jerk BUT character growth (Billy gets better I promise, so does Reader’s dad I definitely projected my own daddy issues, so I apologize in advance), pet names (Doll)

Summary: (y/n) has lived in Hawkins, Indiana her entire life. Everyone knows her, she’s the one that sits in the second row of class, with good grades, is kind, and has lots of friends. Billy was the new guy at school, the new “king” of Hawkins High. He’s a complete jerk to everyone, even her. So why does she feel so safe with him…?

A/N: This is something I’ve been working on for over a year now, and I think I finally got it to where I’m comfortable to share. I hate when Billy is written as this “jerk but nice to you” cliché, cause let’s be real, he wouldn’t be. He’s a racist and an asshole, but I think having someone who understands his source of anger would help let him begin to learn love.

Also Scent idea: Coconut Sandalwood (bath and body candle) is EXACTLY what I imagine Billy to smell like without the smoke or cologne. Like y’all KNOW that’s his Shower gel 😩 (I may have bought one for that reason 👀)

You can’t remember when these nights began. Maybe it was the supposed ‘one night’ that started the comfort you feel with him, or maybe the continued nights you both shared after, maybe the safety you felt in his arms. You weren’t sure. All you knew is that you didn’t hate it, unlike everything else in life.

Billy Hargrove moved to Hawkins with his dad and new step mom and step sister. You had lived in Hawkins your whole life, so when the new boy took charge as the new ‘King’ of Hawkins High School, you weren’t a stranger to it. Walking around school, you always thought Billy was attractive, like any other girl. Billy was everyone’s new favorite.

Growing up here, you were known around as the girl with a kind heart. But they all didn’t really know you. You were a kid in the second row, focused on school. But what people didn’t see was the important part. Your dad is a drunk, has been since you were little. Your mom cheats on him by going to the bar every night and not coming home until 3 in the morning, wobbling in the door, rolling her eyes seeing your dad passed out on the couch. Every morning awoke to screaming and crying, your mom being shoved into a wall and slapped, maybe a punch to your dad’s chin.

You didn’t understand why they didn’t divorce. Actually, that’s a lie. Your little sister was the reason, she was the only thing keeping you there, only thing keeping your broken family on the string.

Sometimes in bursts of anger during your mom’s late night adventures, your dad would wake and mistake you for her, beating on you and calling you names. You look so similar to your mom, that you blow it off as the blurry vision of alcoholism.

The abuse never stops though, it’s a constant spiral into farther depression. Your only hope is getting good grades and getting a scholarship, going away to college, moving out of this town, maybe taking your sister with you. It is the only chance you both have at a better life.

Or at least thats what you thought.

Billy was the first person you felt safe with. You weren’t about to loose that either.

Laying out on his bed, his hands squeezing your thighs as you both moan into the now humid air of his room. You feel safe and warm, comforted by his large hands against your skin. His lips smother yours in sloppy kisses, begging for you more. You love him. God, you love him. He slams into you harder, making your back arch. “Fuck, (y/n)…” his voice is raspy and deep, lulling you to reach up to his face and cup his cheeks in your hands, pulling him closer to you for a kiss. A real kiss.

When the event is finished, he lays over you, arms around your waist. You drink in everything about him. His curly hair sprayed out over your bare chest, his sent, fuck, his sent. He reeks of cigarettes, but a strong sent of a hefty cologne masks most of it, something woodsy, but you can still smell his shower gel or maybe his shampoo? Something with coconut, something you can’t notice unless he’s this close. You reach your hand up to pet his hair, but he pulls away before you can, getting up and throwing away the condom.

Things with Billy aren’t easy. He’s rough and mean, never one for aftercare unfortunately, which is really all you need sometimes.

Walking over to his dresser, he grabs the pack of cigarettes, pulling one out and lighting it. He places it in between his lips before pulling on his boxers. You lay there for a minute, trying to have his sent linger there as long as you can. You finally sit up, looking over to the mirror over his dresser, looking at him through it. He stares down on something on his dresser. You look at yourself in the reflection. You have hickeys all on your body, a blush creeping up your face as you stare longer at the marks he left on you.

“You staying or going tonight?” He asks, blowing out smoke from his mouth. “Am I allowed to stay tonight?” You ask, eyes glittering at the man in front of you. You’ve stayed before, but every time you felt like you were forcing him to let you, and you hated it. You hated forcing him to do things, he would just get mad about it. “You can. Not like you haven’t before.” He doesn’t look at you, but you can hear the annoyance in his voice.

You never understood why you feel safe with him. Maybe it’s more that he’s better than being at your house.

“I would like to…” you mumble. He opens a drawer in his dresser and pulls out one of his t-shirts, turning around and throwing it at the foot of his bed. You crawl over, legs shaking and pick up the shirt, throwing it over your head.

When you look up, a light gasp leaves you when you sees he’s standing right in front of you. His hand reaches and grabs you chin, tilting it up to make you look at him. “Don’t get too cozy with me, Doll, I’m not a kind man.” He drops your chin and snuffs out the cigarette in the ash tray on his dresser before turning back to you. “You know this already though, right?” He asks, leaning back. You nod, staring at him. “Fuck, (y/n), don’t look at me like that. Those soft eyes are gonna kill me one day.” He walks over, wrapping his hand around your neck before smashing his lips to yours. You kiss back almost instantly.

You wake up in the morning, the t-shirt thrown on to the floor at the foot of the bed. You move, only to feel Billy’s hand land on your waist and pull you closer to him. He may claim to not like cuddles, and only in this for sex, but he always does this in the morning.

He always pulls you close, snuggling his face into your hair. You love waking up to this Billy, this gentle, kind Billy. Still sleeping Billy.

You hear his alarm go off and you sigh, knowing it will wake him up and he’ll pull away. He always pulls away. You snuggle into his chest, not wanting to move, just enjoy these few moments when he’s unconsciously loving.

Billy shuffles swinging his arm back, slapping his alarm clock, before snuggling into you more. “Five more minutes…” he mumbles. You breath in his scent. You could live like this, right here. Just laying with him. He doesn’t even know he’s holding you but he is.

You close your eyes, and before long, the alarm goes off again, Billy pulls away and you sink from the shift of weight on the bed. He sits up, landing his feet on the floor, stretching his arms before placing his hands back on the mattress. His back covered in scratches. You didn’t even notice them last night. Scratches you made last night. You marked him.

Billy stands, snatching his boxers off the floor and slipping them on. He lights a cigarette, opening his curtain a bit to look outside. The sun blares in and you flinch at the bright light, “For fuck’s sake, Billy.” The words leave your mouth before you can even process them. He turns to you and glares, opening the curtain more just to blind you. “Morning, Doll.” He spits.

You glare at him and snatch one of the pillows off his bed, chunking it at him, “Fuck you, close the god damn curtain.” The pillow hits just at his dresser next to him, “Hey!” Billy yells. You turn over, now pissed off, your wonderful morning turned sour just from him waking up. Billy closes the curtain.

The next thing you know the blankets are pulled off your bare form, the cold air hitting you. You flinch before looking back at him, “What the hell, Billy!?” He slaps his pillow back on the bed just by your head. “Get up.” He glares. “No.” “I’m not asking, (y/n).” “Don’t care.” He rolls his eyes and grumbles, walking over to his closet.

Billy drives you down the road, speeding like a fucking mad man, before parking. “You can go slower, Jackass.” You roll your eyes hopping out of the passenger seat. Max steps out from the back seat, sitting her board down and kicking off towards the middle school. “I drive how I want.” Billy glares at you, before turning around to snuff out his cigarette into the ground. You slam his car door shut and watch him whip around and glare at you. “Fucking hell, (y/n), careful!” You roll your eyes at him again, throwing your bag over your shoulder and walking into the school.

You go your separate ways for the day, focusing on your school work. “(Y/n),” you turn away from your locker to see one of your popular friends. “Party at Carol’s tonight, you down?” You think for a moment.

Your parents don’t care when you go missing for days on end. Hell, you stayed with Billy for an entire week once and then came home at 2 am, dad passed out like usual, the only person acknowledging your absence being your little sister. Your mom asked you the following morning where you had been, but you could tell she didn’t really care. “A friend’s.” You told her. She shrugged it off with a simple “Ok.” They don’t fucking care about you.

“Sure, why not?”

You caught a ride with one of the guys your friend had been trying to set you up with for the past year. God, when will he take a hint. You wear a slutty outfit, hoping Billy will be there, honestly knowing he will be.

Hopping out of the car you spot Billy on the keg stand. Fucking dumbass. When he drops he throws his fist in the air, a cheer goes across the crowd circling him. He catches eyes with you. The guy who drove you wraps his arm around your waist.

Billy would never admit it, but he hates seeing you with other guys. It just pisses him off. He can’t explain why, he refuses to. He glares at you as the guy leads you into the house. Billy can’t keep his eyes off you no matter how hard he tries.

Billy has had a rough life, his mom fucking packing her shit when he was smaller than Max, his dad being a total abusive jackass all the time. He gets told to watch over Max, make sure she’s ok, and if she gets home late or something happens it’s always on him.

But for some fucking reason he doesn’t hate you. He claims he does, cussing you out or calling you a filthy whore when he finds out you slept with another guy. But he never means it. It’s hard because all he’s ever known is hatred.

He knows of the things you’ve dealt with at home, obviously being at your house a few times to learn how shitty your parents were, same with you with his dad. He hated when your dad beat you, he would sneak into you room just looking to let off steam, and find you crying with a bruise on your cheek. He hates you crying.

Billy doesn’t know how to handle tears, so when he finds you crying in your room, all he can do is give you an escape. Laying you back on your bed and roughly making you forget about your pain.

So yeah, seeing you with another guy pisses him off.

Walking into the house, Carol greets you. You give her a quick ‘hey’ before going straight for the alcohol. You take a red solo cup, dunking it into the punch bowl. Steve walks up finding you as you chug it down. “Whoa, whoa, (y/n), hey.” Steve snatched the cup from you. “Fuck off, Steve, not in the mood.” “Just… slow down, damn…”

He hands you the cup and you lean against the counter. “What’s up? You hate parties.” “Feeling like I need a distraction.” You glare at the crowd of teens in the living room, Billy on the other side, now flirting with what ever bitch he can get his hands on.

You know you have no right to be mad, you’re just fuck buddies, not exclusive. But it still pulls at your heart seeing him run his hands over other girls. You can practically feel them roam your skin, gripping at your hips-

“(Y/n)?” Steve pulls you from your stare. “What?” You ask. “You ok? You seem so out of it…” Steve places his hand on your shoulder.

You and Steve have been friends for a while, hanging around the same crowd since elementary. Honestly you used to date, but after you broke it off, trying to focus on school, Steve started going out with Nancy Wheeler, a girl in the grade under you. You thought they were perfect for each other. Steve loves Nancy, but he still cares for you and you for him. You stayed friends even now.

“I’m fine, Steve, I’m fine.” You tell him. He nods and removes his hand. “Ok, if you need anything, just let me know, ok? You’re still my friend, (l/n), you can’t cut me off that easy.” You giggle slightly. He always lightened your mood. “Yeah, dork, I know.” You ruffle his hair and step away from the punch bowl, trying to find the guy you pulled up with. You wanted attention. Even if it meant just more sex, at least maybe you could get aftercare from someone.

You run into Tommy, one of Billy’s friends, who immediately starts flirting with you. You reciprocate, wanting to honestly just have a good time. After a couple dances, Tommy takes you upstairs.

Pulling him immediately onto the bed, you kiss him just wanting someone to touch you. Tommy climbs over you, quick to scurry off his pants, but you stop him. You help him remove them before leaning down, being quick to take him into your mouth.

He’s no Billy, but the rest of your evening consisted of your legs wrapped around his waist, kisses dancing across your neck. You know that if Billy found out he’d be so pissed. So you enjoyed yourself, letting him have you all night long, any position he wanted you. But again, he was no Billy Hargrove.

The next morning, Billy waltzes into the boys locker room. He is already pissed off, you never answered any of his calls last night, couldn’t find you at the end of the party.

When he is getting changed, Tommy starts bragging about a bang he made last night. Billy’s ears perk, curious as to what secret whore was let out at the party. “Fuck, man, (y/n) was incredible.” Tommy smirks to himself. Billy froze. Why the hell was Tommy Hagan talking about you, his girl.

When the group gets out into the gym, Billy steps up to Tommy, “heard you had a good fuck last night?” “Yeah, don’t tell Carol though, she’d flip. Honestly this chick was way better.” “Yeah?” Billy asks, a smile on his face. “Yeah-“ Billy smashes his fist into Tommy’s cheek, practically throwing the guy to the ground. “What the hell, man?!” Tommy yells out, holding his cheek in his hand. Billy grabs Tommy’s shirt and yanks him to his feet, before throwing him against a wall, punching his fists into his face over and over again. Tommy’s face starts bleeding fast, but Billy doesn’t stop.

The fight builds up a crowd quickly, you being included. When you see Billy beating on Tommy you immediately squeeze through everyone, “Billy!” You run up and grab Billy’s arm, pulling him away from Tommy, trying to get him to stop. “Billy, stop!!” You get shoved down to the floor just as Carol comes running up. “Tommy!! Billy, quit it!” Carol smashes her body into Billy, getting him to finally shove off her boyfriend. You quickly stand, getting in between the couple and Billy. “Billy, stop!” You tell him, holding your hands against his chest, which shockingly he stops. Carol cups Tommy’s face in her hands, examining his wounds, before turning to you both.

To be honest you would have felt guilty in that moment, knowing you spent the night at her house with her boyfriend, but you didn’t. Honestly you were more so shocked. You got a reaction from Billy.

“What the fuck, Billy?!” Carol screams at him. The crowd around you watches you all carefully. “What the hell is wrong with you?!” She yells, obviously and rightfully pissed.

“Oh, fuck off, Carol!” Billy yells back. You stare at him, genuinely blown away by the way your touch is calming him down. He glances down at you hands, then back up at your face. His hand lifts and slaps your hand off him. “Get the fuck off. Fuck you. Fuck all of you!” Billy walks out the side door of the gym.

“Tommy? You hear me, baby?” Carol makes her boyfriend look at her. “What the hell happened?” She asks. You turn to Tommy, meeting eyes. “Nothing, he just… fucking attacked me. That fucking psycho.” Tommy breaths out. Carol’s eyes soften, but you knew. You knew Billy found out about last night.

You step out of the school at the end of the day, only to spot Billy walking up. You glare at him, pissed he got in a fucking fight. He was completely ok too, no bruises no marks, Tommy didn’t even stand a chance. “Billy.” You went to go walk past him, but he grips your arm, snatching you to stop and look at him. “You fucking bitch.”

His words slither out of his mouth with the purest venom. “This is all your fucking fault.” His grip on your arm tightens but you don’t move, not even flinch. “Fuck off, Billy. We aren’t dating, remember?” Billy couldn’t help but wanna fucking slap you across the face right there, but he knew if he did, he would be just like his dad.

He glances down and watched for a second as your chest raises and falls. For fuck’s sake he loves your chest. Your entire body. Everything about you. You are his guilty pleasure.

Even now, as you stand before him, knowing you fucked another guy just last night, he still wants you. “God fucking- fuck.” Billy drops his hand, before barging into the school, leaving you alone.

You make it home only to have your mom home, a shocking display. “Hey,” your mom calls as you enter the house, “where the fuck have you been?” She growls. “Your dad’s passed out, Penny has had to heat up fucking egos for the past three days!” You look away from your mother. “You never cared before.” Your mother raises her brow, “excuse me?” You go to repeat your words louder, not having a damn care in the world anymore, but a sharp stink hits your cheek as your face is whipped to look towards the tv.

You take a deep breath, your hand raising to brush against your now red cheek. Your mother’s hand lays out slightly in front of her. “Don’t you. Dare. Talk to me like that again! I’m your mother! You ungrateful-”without even thinking, your hand flies, slapping against her jaw so hard she stumbles. “I don’t have a mom.” Your voice spits with such distaste towards the word. “You have no right. Claiming to be a mom? Please! All you do is fuck around with guys at bars, leaving dad here for me to fucking deal with!” You press you finger to your chest, pressing into your skin. “Me! A teenager! You hate it here! So why don’t you just fucking leave! Life would be so much better if you just fucking died!” You practically spit at her, before running up stairs.

You slam your door shut, pressing your back against the white wood. Sliding down you lift your knees to your chest, allowing yourself to cry into them. You want comfort. You want him. You fucked up so fucking bad and you hate yourself for it. Your mom deserves hell, but you deserve much worse.

Before long banging comes from the other side, making you jump, a quick scream leaving your lips, as you press your weight against the door. “Open the door, (y/n)!” Your mother screams. “Open the god damn door!!” You reach down, tears streaming down your cheeks. You lock the door, before moving as much of your furniture you can in front of the door. You panic, looking around the room.

Opening your window quickly, you climb out onto the ledge of the roof, like Billy has done so many times before. You climb down, dropping to your knees as you hit the ground. You take no time to stand and start running.

Stopping at the door of the house, you knock hard, knowing your tear stained cheeks and puffy eyes were gonna give you away. Billy opens the door, his shirt off, “aww, missed me all ready, Doll? Done with that prick, Tommy?” “Oh fuck off.” You hissed at him. You body aches as you stare at him, his bare chest smooth and perfect. He raises his hand and grips your jaw, turning your head to the side to see the red mark on your cheek. You could still feel it stinging.

“What the hell happened?” He asks. Your body betrays you, soft whimpers leaving your lips as more sobs choke up from your throat. Billy stares at your eyes, trying to read your expression. “Did he hit you again?” He was asking about your dad, but all you can do is crumble. “Doll,” Billy stiffens as you lean into his chest, laying your head on his shoulder. As stated before he hates you crying.

“Doll, come in.” He wraps his arm around your waist and pulls you inside, closing the door before slamming you against the wood. You let out a gasp, but don’t protest as his lips fall to yours, deeply placing kisses on your lips. “Fuck, Doll…” his hands raise up your shirt, before lifting you up so you sit around his waist. You run your hands through his hair, melting into his touch. God, you missed him.

He scoops you off the door, letting you lay your head into his neck as he walks you upstairs to his room. He lays you back, pressing soft kisses to your cheek then down your neck. “Billy…” your moans fill his ears, electrifying him. Fuck, the things you do to him. He fumbles with his belt as you lay on your back, wrapping your legs around his waist. He yanks out his belt from the belt loops quickly dropping his pants and boxers before sliding your underwear down your legs.

He takes no time slamming into you, starting at a fast pace, holding your hips against his waist. Your gasps and screams fill his room, followed by his deep grunts and groans. He climbs onto the bed, pushing deeper into you. Fuck, you made him crazy.

He places a hand on your lower stomach, pushing down, getting a lovely moan to slip out of your perfect lips. “Fuck, (y/n)…” his voice is groggy, deep, he grabs your thighs and pushes them down, opening you to be a perfect display for him. Your eyes roll back. Skin slaps against skin, the temperature in the room rising. “F-Fuck, Billy…” your toes curl.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck fuck fuck!” Billy leans down to kiss your stomach. “God, I’m gonna fucking cum, Doll…” your legs find themselves wrapped around his waist again, each thrust sends him deeper to your core. “B-Billy, please…” your voice begs him. He lets out a soft chuckle, “Please what, Doll? Do you wanna cum?” Billy asks, slapping his hand against your ass. The sting sends a shiver down your spine, but you like it. “Please…” he thrusts faster, your whimpers making this completely worth the workout. “Fuck…” Billy groans as he feels you release around him, making him tumble over his edge. He spills into you, placing his hands beside your head. “God… fuck…”

You pass out within seconds, laying into his bed comfortably. His scent fills your nose as you sleep, making you feel safe.

Billy lays in his bed, unable to sleep. His mind keeps replaying the last few hours in his head.

You passed out over his bed, and to be honest it scared the shit out of him. His body reacted before his brain, grabbing your face and patting your cheeks softly, “(y/n)? (Y/n).” You stirred, a hum leaving your lips, letting him release a sigh of relief. He pulled away from you, pulling out a shirt from his dresser and lifting you up, throwing it over your head. “Why the hell did you have to pass out on me? God, can’t even take it rough.” He mumbles to himself.

He stops when you lay your head on his shoulder. “Billy…” he froze, stiff as a board. “Yeah, Doll?” He spoke quietly. You didn’t answer and he looked over at your face, a soft smile on your lips. Fuck.

He laid you back, lifting your underwear off the ground and lifting it up your legs. He lets you lay back on his bed while he lights a cigarette. He takes a puff only to watch you wiggle in your sleep. “Billy…” his name leaves your lips, and he feels his heart skip each time. “God, what am I gonna do with you, Doll.” He leans over you, cigarette still in is mouth. He brushes your hair out of your face. “You stress me out… make me worry when I don’t know where you are.” He sighs. “God, you’re so pretty…” “Billy…” he brushes his knuckle against your soft cheek, “What’s on your mind, Doll. Tell me, I wanna know.” He mumbles.

He does want to know, he really wants to know. He wants to know what you think of him when you aren’t using a filter, when you don’t shout hate back at him.

“I love you, Billy…” the words are soft as they leave your lips, but just enough to make his heart jump out of his chest. He hasn’t been told he was loved since he was younger than Max, since his mom was still around. But here you were, thrown over his bed, mumbling that you love him in your sleep.

“You’re gonna kill me, Doll.” He leans over and places a soft kiss on your forehead, before pulling the covers over you, letting you sink deeper into his mattress. When he finishes his cigarette, he lays down with you, turning his back towards you.

He doesn’t know how to process this new information. You didn’t know what you were saying, he knew that much. He was bad for you, everything about him was awful, he knows that. But you love him.

You wake up to Billy, his back turned towards you. You glance over at the clock on his nightstand, 2:45. It’s still dark out, you sit up and rub your head. You glance down at yourself, you’re in one of Billy’s shirts, your underwear back on you. “Billy…?” You whisper, you know he’s probably asleep, but you really wanna cuddle him.

You slide yourself closer to him, just wanting to be next to him. You lay your forehead against his back, snuggling into his skin.

Billy feels you move against his back, trying to get closer to him, but not too much to freak him out. He feels his eyes water, unable to handle this much affection, but he let’s you continue to get comfy beside him.

In the morning, Billy is the first to get out of bed, like usual. His usual morning stretch and cigarette. You lay on your stomach, watching him carefully. You could watch this man walk around naked all day.

Billy opens the curtain and you brace yourself for the aggressive beam of light that hits your eyes, but it never comes. He sticks his head around the curtain, peeking outside. When he sees what he wants, he closes the curtain, making sure that the only light coming in is the amount spraying out from the sides.

“Doll,” Billy pokes your side a few minutes later. “Up, come on.” He’s being oddly gentle this morning. You sit up, your body still sore from last night. “Can we just skip today?” You ask, rubbing your eyes with your fist as though you were a child. Billy freezes before turning to you. “Doll, we have a test in physics, we can’t skip.” He tells you.

You like this Billy, a softer Billy. You nod and throw your legs over the bed. You go to stand but your legs wobble and send you crashing towards the ground. “Whoa, hey,” Billy comes over and helps you off the floor, “don’t be fucking stupid, take your time.” You nod as he lets go of you after sitting you back on the bed.

Last night must have been rough, you’ve never not been able to walk the next morning, but here you were, legs shaking as you were needing to get out of bed for school. Billy leaves the room and you take this time to get ready.

You have to stay leaning against furniture and walls to keep yourself from falling over. After your dressed, you try to remember all the events of last night. You remember him fucking you, hard. You remember both of you finishing, but after that it goes dark, until you woke up later in his clothes.

You conclude you passed out. Obviously, that’s the only real explanation. But why was he being so gentle this morning? He’s never this nice, it’s weird.

When Billy enters the room again, you watch him carefully. “Did I do something?” The words slip out nervously. He looks at you confused. “What?” “You’re just… you’re different this morning…” you mumble, twiddling your thumbs. “I mean you passed out last night. Made me have to fucking dress you.” His voice growls.

There he was. A comfort waves over you. “Sorry,” you speak, “I didn’t mean to.” “Yeah, no shit.”

You get into his car, now feeling like your legs aren’t jelly. Max hops into the back, now used to the fact that she doesn’t get the front seat as often anymore. Billy drives you all, speeding like usual and you just ignore it.

Getting out of the car, shutting the door, Billy speaks up, “yeah I know, go slower.” He rolls his eyes. You think for a minute. “Oh my god you’re learning.” Max stifles a laugh getting out of the car. “If only, fucking dumbass will kill us one day.” “Hey!” Billy glares at her. She flips him the bird before dropping her board down and skating off. You walk into the school, heading straight for class.

At lunch you sit down with Carol, who is already crying. “What the fuck is wrong with you?” You ask. Carol sobs and sniffles. “Tommy slept with another girl at the party the other night.” Another girl speaks up. “Carol found out from one of the boys. We think that’s why Billy got in a fight with him, defending Carol.” You wince, knowing damn well Billy wasn’t defending Carol, but the girl Tommy slept with, you.

“That Jackass.” You grumble and the girls all nod. “He fucking cheated, in my own house no less! Then came to school and let me fucking care about him!” Carol growls. “That’s so gross.” “Not cool.” “At your own party, disgusting.” The girls all pipe in, giving their thoughts on Tommy.

“Do you know who the girl is?” One girl asks. Carol shakes her head. Oh thank god. “He refused to tell me, just that she was better. That fucking asshole! That girl better watch her back though, I will fucking find her.”

Walking to your next class you get pulled into a classroom. The door shuts behind you and you whip around. Tommy.

“Tommy, what the hell?” You glare at him. “Sorry, I just…” Tommy takes a deep breath. “I really had fun the other night… and I was wondering…” he steps closer to you and you step back against the wall, “if you wanna maybe do it again sometimes?”

“Tommy, are you fucking serious.” Your eyes widen. “I just ate lunch. With Carol.” You snap at him. “Remember, your fucking girlfriend?” Tommy shrugs. “Not any more, I’m a single man, now, Love.” You wanna hurl at the nickname. “Tommy, it was a one night thing, I’m not interested.” “Oh please, (y/n), you were taking me so well. You expect me to believe that you jumping in yesterday wasn’t because you care about me?” “Yes.” You snarl at him. He hesitates for a moment.

“Oh, oh. I get it now.” He smirks at you. “You wanna keep us a secret, so that you don’t have to feel the wrath of Carol.”

Oh for fuck’s sake, he’s stupid. “No, Tommy. I don’t want to date you.” I clarify. “Who said anything about dating? Just fucking is fine with me, Sweet cheeks.” “Ew.” You go to grab the door but he cuts in front of you. “Ew? Bitch, you’re the reason I broke off a three year long relationship.” He glares at you. “Well maybe instead of thinking with your dick, you should have thought with you head and chose the girl that actually loved you. Not the girl that just wanted attention for a night.” You roll your eyes and shove past him.

Billy is waiting for you at his car when school ends, “have a nice time with Tommy?” He asks. “Fuck off, Billy, nothing fucking happened.” You glare at him. “Yeah, no shit, Doll, you came out ten minutes later, unless it just doesn’t take him that long.” He chuckles at his own words.

“So now what? You’re spying on me? Watching my every move?” You ask him, leaning against his car. He glares at you. “Hell no. Why would I be?” “Oh I don’t know, you just seem to always try to know where I am. What I’m doing.” You cross your arms over your chest. “Don’t flatter yourself, (l/n). You’re nothing special.” He tells you. “Yet you keep coming back to me.” You roll your eyes, before walking around the car.

“Hey,” you look up at him, his eyes are narrowed, “you came to me last night, remember? Don’t forget that.” He says opening the door to the driver’s side. “Not waiting on Max?” You ask him. He glares at you, “She can skate home.”

You sit in the car in silence, well as much silence as Scorpions screaming in your ear can give you. Billy bangs his hand against the steering wheel, and you stare out of the window. You look forwards only to see a group of kids on bikes. “Billy,” he looks over at you and speeds up. “Billy, slow down!” You yell at him. He just stares at you, “You know those kids?”

You do. Mike Wheeler, Dustin Henderson, Lucas Sinclair, and Will Byers. Mike’s little sister Holly is friends with Penny. “Billy, I’m not fucking joking, slow the god damn car!” You scream at him. You watch the kids speed up their peddling as they all try to race the speed of the car barreling towards them.

You place your hand on the wheel and push it to swerve around them, just missing them. “Billy, you jackass!” You slap his arm. He slams on his brakes, almost making you slam into the dashboard. “Get out.” You look at him shocked. Is he fucking serious? “I said get out!” He yells at you. You grab your stuff and step out of his car. You slam the car door shut and flip him the bird as he speeds off.

“(Y/n)?” Mike looks at you shocked as you turn around to face the group of boys. “Are you guys ok?” You ask, walking over to help lift Dustin off the ground. “Yeah, yeah.” Lucas tries to catch his breath. “Totally.” Dustin stumbles, catching himself on Mike’s shoulder. Will stares at you. “Why were you riding with Billy?” You stare at the group of middle schoolers as they stare back at you.

“It’s a… long story.” You glance to the tree line across the road. “Come on, I’ll walk with you guys.”

As you come by your house, you stop, staring at the building, the boys staring at you. “What’s wrong?” Lucas asks. “Nothing. Just thinking. You guys go home, now. It’ll get dark soon enough.” You ruffle Dustin’s hair. They all nod and leave you standing outside your house.

You stare at the empty driveway, your mom’s car not there. A relief sets in. You step into your home, shutting the door quietly to not wake your dad. You walk upstairs only to see your little sister’s door peep open.

Her eyes glitter in the crack of the door. “Hey, Pen.” You greet her. She slowly opens her door, “Is Mommy home?” “No, she’s not.” You tell her. She thinks for a minute, you can practically see her gears turning in her head.

She runs out of her room and tackles your legs, “Hey, now, careful. Don’t wanna send me flying down the stairs do you?” She shakes her head against you skin. “Penny,” you crouch down to her height, “I’m sorry I haven’t been home much recently…” you choke out.

You hate leaving her here, knowing she has to hear all the yelling and fighting and not have you with her to help her through it. But you also know it’s better when you’re not here. Your mom treats her with more care than you. You would never hold that against Penny, though. You adore her. She’s the light in this dark house.

You know why your mom favors her also. Your mom and dad haven’t slept together since you were little, so when your mom got pregnant with Penny, you weren’t fucking stupid. Penny isn’t your dad’s kid. She’s some result of a hook up your mom had, some old flame from high school. You know who, though you didn’t know his name. You met him, years ago, when your dad was still working late nights at the plant. Your mom would bring this guy home almost every night.

Even so, knowing who Penny was, she was still your sister, no matter who or where she comes from. You love her.

“Have you eaten?” You ask her. She shakes her head and looks up at you. “What do you wanna eat?” Her eyes light up. “Pizza?” You let a soft chuckle escape your lips, “I can do that, tortilla or do you wanna order?” “Tortilla!” You nod and gesture for her to go downstairs.

Following your little sister into the kitchen, you both quietly pull out all the things you need to make your pizzas, you also preheat the oven to broil on high. You pull out the little step for your sister to make both the pizzas, helping her spread around the sauce onto the tortillas. “What are you girls doing?” You both freeze and look up, your dad now stands in the door way of the kitchen. “We…” you glance towards your sister and back at your dad, “we’re making tortilla pizzas for dinner.” Your dad’s eyes soften, “Oh, mind making me one?” He steps closer and you nod.

You have never seen your dad as a bad guy, he was genuinely a sweet guy when he was sober. When he was still working at the plant, he would take you to get ice cream after his late nights at work. Especially on Saturdays. Saturdays were the day your mom was out of the house for work, but your dad was always home, watching you. Saturdays used to be your favorite day, now you don’t have a favorite.

On Saturday morning you would wake up to your mom leaving for work and your dad just getting off his shift. He would come into the door, tackle you in a bear hug and you would both make breakfast together, pancakes and eggs. Sometimes mixing it up and making waffles. Then after eating, you both would sit on the couch and watch what ever you wanted, usually because he would end up passing out, finally getting some sleep. You didn’t mind that he slept though, happy just to be able to hang out with him for a day.

When he would wake up, sometime around 1:00, you would get into his truck and go to a local diner for lunch, getting a burger and fries. He would always get the turkey club sandwich. After that you would get one banana split and share it, he would always make the day worth the wait.

You miss those Saturdays, nothing but happy memories. You don’t know why that tradition stopped, but it stopped sometimes around when Penny was about 2, and your dad lost his job. Back then he was so kind, only wanting to make you both happy when he could. Now, now he was a shot in the dark.

After you all made your pizzas, you go to pick up the pan and place it in the oven, “Here, Pumpkin,” the nickname catches you off guard when your dad’s rough hand places on top of yours. “Let me, please.” He stares at you, those dark eyes, soft and sweet. You nod, letting him take the tray and place it into the oven. You allow yourself to finally relax.

You all sit around the table, laughing and catching up, as if you all don’t live under the same roof. Your dad’s smile fills the room, making your heart melt. You always did love his smile. After eating, he scooped out some ice cream while Penny and you cleaned the kitchen. You all move to the couch and put on a movie.

Sitting on the couch, your sister now sprawled across it, leaning against your dad’s chest, passed out. Her feet lay on your lap but you don’t mind, it’s nice to see her being comfortable to nap on the couch. You look over at your dad, he’s wide awake, stroking Penny’s hair with his palm. He looks up to see you staring at him.

“What’s up, Pumpkin?” You hesitate, a knot forming in your throat. “I missed you.” The words fumble out of your mouth as tears form in your eyes. “I really missed you.” He smiles softly holding out his arms and you crawl across the couch to him, laying against him, but making sure not to crush Penny in the process. “I know… I missed you too, (y/n).” Your tears run down your cheeks, dampening his shirt.

His fingers run through your hair. He presses a soft kiss to your head. “I’m sorry, I know things have been tough for you, I should have been there.” He nuzzles into your hair. “You’ll always be my little girl, Sweetie. I’m so sorry. You’ve done so well taking care of Penny, taking care of all of us, but you shouldn’t have to do that. God, I’m so sorry.” He kisses you forehead and you can’t stop crying.

His scent makes you feel comfortable, the smell of cigar smoke and cranberry. You missed him, so much.

As midnight strikes on the clock hanging on the wall, your dad wipes away your tears, laying his hands against your cheeks to cup your face, before placing a soft kiss on your nose. “I always hated seeing you cry.” You let out a laugh in between your sobs. “I probably look stupid, nose all runny.” You let yourself smile. “Oh no, never.” He shakes his head, a playful smile on his lips. “Not my little girl, you were always a pretty crier, even as a child, all snotty and whaling around, thumping your fists.” He chuckles to himself.

He lets out a soft sigh. “We should probably get Penny to bed.” You nod, getting up from the couch. You go to scoop up your sister, but he stops you. “I got her. Will you grab the bowls?” You nod and collect all the dirty dishes off the coffee table. You place them in the sink and watch as your dad slowly lays your little sister over his chest, supporting her bottom with his arm.

“Daddy?” You hear her soft voice call out, “Shh,” your dad mumbles to her, “Time for bed, Sweet pea.” She nuzzles into his neck as you come back into view. You follow your dad up to her room, helping him lay her down in her bed. “Good night, Penny.” Your dad places a soft kiss on her head, and she hums in response. He steps out, turning off her light and shutting the door as quietly as he can.

“She’s gotten big.” He puts his hands in the way he was having to carry her, obviously exaggerating. You let yourself giggle. He smiles at your laugh. “Tomorrow is Saturday, right?” He asks. You think for a moment. Tomorrow is Saturday. “Yeah,” he smiles and lifts a hand to ruffle your hair.

“How about we reawaken our old tradition, make breakfast in the morning and go get lunch at the diner across town?” Your heart thumps in your chest. “I would like that, Dad. I would like that very much.” You smile, a genuine smile. “Good. Now, get to bed, Pumpkin.” He pulls you in for another hug, before heading back downstairs.

You make it into your room, slowly shutting the door. You know by morning, he probably will have forgotten, probably be drunk on whiskey again. You know he probably will forget about the whole evening he spent with his two little girls on the couch, shoving ice cream into your mouths and a movie on the screen. But you don’t care, you want to soak in the night for as long as you can.

[writingblognumber1]

Tbh I don’t love how I’ve written this and I’ve partly lost motivation for it. I hope I get better the more I write but imma upload these last 2 parts anyway. Hope you enjoy

Dad’s best friend Toji part 3

Not really all that smutty tbh

On Tuesdays, you have only one class and it starts at 10. You don’t get out of bed until 9 and when you look at yourself in the mirror, you feel shameful. Never have you let yourself get so caught up in your own feelings. You wanted him so bad it felt like you’d die if you didn’t have him, but you don’t want anyone who doesn’t want you. At that moment, you decide you’ll have more restraint on yourself. When you make it to the kitchen, there’s a note on the whiteboard that’s on the fridge. In messy handwriting, it says breakfast is in the oven. Despite the way you feel, it makes you smile. Toast, eggs, and bacon are tucked into the oven to keep warm for you. You eat quickly and head out for your class.

After class, instead of staying home the rest of the day, you decide to go see your friends for a little while. It’s a great distraction from the events of last night but your mind still finds its way back to Toji. Maybe it’s best to stay out tonight, with a friend. You don’t want to deal with the awkwardness. Your friends invite you to the bar, even though it’s Tuesday, and you say yes. Apparently the drinks are cheaper during the week.

After a few too many shots on a weeknight, you’re feeling good but also a little regretful. You know in the morning you’ll wish you hadn’t done this. Your friend returns from the bathroom and tells you there’s another bar they plan on going to, but you decline. They pout but you wave them away. You’re done for the night so you order an uber to take you home.

Upon entering the home, you notice it’s quiet and dark, except for the light on the staircase. You see movement in the corner of your eye and turn to find Toji sitting on the couch. There’s 2 boxes of pizza on the table.

“Did you have a night class or something?” He asks suddenly, a slight edge to his voice.

“No..”

“Then where were you? Your mom said you weren’t the type to stay out late.”

“Out. With friends. Didn’t know I had a bedtime.” He scoffs at you. Your eyebrows furrow with confusion.

“You could’ve at least told me where you were so I didn’t worry.” You’re in disbelief.

“Sorry to make you worry I didn’t realize you cared so much for my safety.” You sarcastically replied. Toji stands.

“I just want to make sure that, while your parents are away, nothing happens to you.” “Oh, please. Give me a break. You really think they care that much, Toji? Look around.” You gesture to the house. “They’re not here! They’re rarely here. Even when I was younger they were gone a majority of the time. If anything was gonna happen to me it would’ve already happened. No need to act like you’re so worried.”

“Maybe I was worried. Your mom says you’re a good kid and I expected you to be here when I got home. I even ordered us pizza!” You can’t help but feel a little guilty but at the same time, who did he think he was talking to you like this? Did he forget what happened last night?

“Well forgive me for not being here when the events of last night have been haunting me all day. I needed to get out.” Toji walks towards you until he’s only a few feet away. You can’t help it when you look him up and down. He looks tense. You feel an overwhelming urge to soothe him but you stifle it.

“Last night shouldn’t have happened.” You can’t help but laugh.

“Oh. Are you gonna scold me, daddy?” The words slip from your lips before you can hold them back. Your hand is cocked at your hip. Toji moves closer towards you.

“What did you call me?” His voice is low. Threatening.

“What’s wrong daddy? You don’t like it?” Before you can move or say anything else, Toji’s fingers are around the back of your neck. They slip through the back of your hair and he yanks your head back. Your mouth falls open and you gasp.

“Don’t play with me babygirl. You really don’t know what you’re getting into.” You can’t help but moan at his words, your fingers come up to paw at his chest. Your brain melts into nothing and suddenly you feel compliant. A sharp tug in your abdomen has your toes curling in your shoes. This is what you want, no, it’s what you need.

“Please, daddy. I wanna be your good girl.” You breathe out the words. Toji groans and suddenly he’s all over you. Your foreheads lay against each other and he delicately traces his lips over yours. You try to lean forward, to kiss him, but his hand has a tight hold on your hair, forcing you to stay put. He even tugs you back an inch from his face. Toji moves his head to the side of your neck and licks a thick stripe from the bottom of your throat to your ear. You shudder in his hold, arching against him. You’re reminded of your dream you had about him. His smell envelops you. It’s pine and sandalwood and sweet like cherries. Toji softly kisses your ear and whispers,

“But you’re not a good girl. I think you’ve been a bad girl and bad girls don’t get what they want baby.” He releases you suddenly and moves to the stairs. He doesn’t look back at you.

“Go to bed.”

You’re left standing there, head spinning and pussy throbbing, again. Your eyes burn with tears of frustration. You want to march to his room and demand he take care of you, but you don’t. Instead, you go to your room and let the exhaustion take over you.

[autisticbokutoenthusiast]

pit babe ep 3 stray fever thoughts

- they are NOT playing with these episode lengths like damn

- still love the intro like come on color grading

- black turtleneck suit jacket combo this man is one of the baddies

- “he’s the one who babe calls daddy” i feel like is maybe more of a translation thing…. but awlright

- i see babe already pulling out the puppy eyes… its joever for me if we’re being honest

- ok how many of the characters are tony’s adopted children cause im gonna go with any and everyone until proven otherwise

- sonic again with the fits. at least he commits and we must stan for that

- oh this is kinda nostalgic for fixing cars with my dad…

- ok alanjeff kinda funny. like alan whining about his current crisis and jeff in the corner eating noodles and being judgy i love it

- oh way knows people ?? he has conversations that don’t revolve around babe??

- ok coloring. i love you blue sets

- HIS FUCKING CARS AHHHH

- oh so babe is rich.

- he has a tortured soul and hot wheels collection your honor how could i not wanna hit

- GET A JOB!! STAY AWAY FROM HER!!!!!

- oh this subplot goes wild actually like the super children thing…. delicious little backstory. plus peep the others there too

- awwwwww they’re so cute. not ready for the pain that’s coming. obsessed with this cute lil song playing like we switched genres for a sec here

- vroom vroom mf making it sound like the pits of hell up in here. i would. need my noise blockers

- wait whose dean did we meet him yet. is this the one yall shipping with winner

- obsessed with jeff and how he moves through the world like a prey animal

- oh here’s pete. here’s the poor little meow meow ig

- they got sponsored time to go crazy on those chicken nugggies

- help winner being a loser again. kim needs to knock some sense into him or something. NOT HIM SUGGESTING SABOTAGE THEN GOING “ oopsie 🤪” djjdjdjdjdjdjdj

- is one of them an omega and can it be kim and jeff

- tony eating his evil little treats, unfortunately a slay

- here we go the famed milk placement

- not charlie in his casuals with that big ass watch who is this kid. also babe sleeping …. i need to do atrocious things to this man

- it’s such a brave choice having a digital clock as a prop

- what did way see… i think way is one third wheeling moment away from exploding

- ooo is way mind controlling rn… that felt strange

- he plays car video games it’s his special interest

- oh shit this kinda making me sweaty

- i get babe if i try to focus without listening to my tunes i lose my fucking mind

- can someone deck winner oh here we go pfjdjejrjrbd winner stumbking this clown can’t even end the fight ejejdj

this ep was my fav so far feels like we’re settling into the rhythm of the world and also descending into chaos, fun

[liquidluckandstuff]

Grandadmort: he is Harry's dad and Harry has at least 3-4 kids

Ok in THAT case, He is def holding Christmas at his house.

Its a private affair of course (one because its safer that way, and two no one would get to see Voldemort at his absolute softest)

Harry and all of his kiddos would go visit for the break and spend their time with their grandad and listen to him tell stories when he felt like it. I feel at some point they all had to tell him about their accomplishments over the semester.

The youngest (who is far too young to go to school yet) talks about how she wrote her name for the first time in PURPLE Isn't that so cool? Her daddy got her purple markers and now she is writing her name on everything.

And while Voldemort doesn't appear outwardly impressed the purple dress that immediately gets added to her Christmas pile says otherwise.

They wake up christmas morning jumping on beds and dragging everyone down to breakfast (breakfast first and THEN presents of course. They aren't animals after all)

But before they get started Voldemort sneaks Harry a small present without a word and Harry thanks him, and calls him dad.

Harry got him a present too, but he wouldn't give it to him until much later. (spoiler its something like searching high and low for an accurate memory of his mother and has a portrait made of her. He acts all tough but even dark lords think about their mothers from time to time)

[talanashta]

All Because of Some Fries - Chapter 1

For @dame-zoom-a-lot who requested "a rude customer" harassing Robin then Steve with Argyle to the rescue! Hope this hits the spot!

Rating: T | No CWs | Word Count: 1,283 | Pairings: Pre-/Early Spicy Six Plus Chrissy Polycule Additional Tags: Steve's POV

Chapter 1 of 2

Continuation of the "my lonely days are gone" series. Read Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5

A/N: Second chapter should be up in a day or two

Robin and Steve were just chilling at the counter at the Family Video, waiting – begging – for their shift to end.  Today had been one of the slowest they’d ever had, in contrast to yesterday where everyone and their cousin seemed to come in to rent.  The shelves were half-bare, the phone hadn’t rung once, and the closest they got to someone coming in was a man who went to open the door and realized, actually, the laundromat was the next door down, not this one.

Steve sighed for what felt like the sixth time in the last fifteen minutes.  “I’m gonna go grab us some fries.  Hopefully when I get back something happens,” he told Robin, pushing off the counter.

“Yeah,” Robin agreed from where she was lying on the floor, “or we’ll at least have fries.”

They’d long since reshelved their minuscule number of leftover returns from yesterday, so anything, including fries, was a welcome distraction in Steve’s mind, no matter how much he was trying to watch what he ate.  (He wasn’t in high school anymore, after all.)

When he got back from the small restaurant that ran out of the end of the strip mall the Family Video was in, carrying his bag of fries, Robin hadn’t moved an inch.  He dropped the greasy paper bag on her stomach and headed to the back.  “I’m going to go wash my hands!” he called as he walked.  “The counter was sticky when I picked up my food, and I can still feel it on my fingers.”

As he went to shut the bathroom door, he yanked it open quickly to yell, “And don’t eat them all before I’m back!” then shut it.

Steve decided to take the opportunity to pee, too, since it’d been a while since he’d taken a bathroom break, and then he noticed a… gray hair?  Of course, he had to investigate it.  Sure, he told the kids they’d turn him gray before he could legally drink, but now they were actually doing it!

He’d inspected about half his hair for additional grays when he heard a raised voice coming from the store floor.  Instantly, he was on alert, pulling the door open and rushing out to check on Robin.

There was a middle-aged man, towering over Robin, face red and hands waving in a very threatening manner.  He could hear the man yelling but couldn’t make out all the words because of his tone.  God, if Robin knew, she’d give him so much crap for not going to the audiologist like she’d told him to do after his last concussion.  From what he could hear, though, was that he was mad about Robin… eating?

Steve immediately went to step between the two.  “Sir, you can’t speak to her like that.”

“Oh?” the man asked, voice raising, and got up into Steve’s face.  “Who are you?  The manager?”

“No, the manager isn’t in right now.  If you’re going to continue to be aggressive, then you need to leave,” he said, as he reached his left hand back to make sure Robin was a safe distance away in case the man started swinging.

The man puffed up even more.  “You can’t tell me what to do!  You’re not in charge here, little boy.  Go get Daddy, and then maybe we’ll talk.  Until then, she needs to know what terrible service she’s providing by eating on the job!”

When the man tried to step around Steve to go for Robin, he shifted to block the way, but he knew he wasn’t great in a fight, and there wasn’t anyone else around to stop it if this man decided to instigate one.

Which is when the bell above the door rang.  Steve looked out of the corner of his eye, trying to also keep the man in his line of sight, to see Nancy enter the store, followed by Argyle.  He watched as Nancy took in the situation and puffed up, ready to intervene.  Only for Argyle to cut off her attack.

“Hey, brochachos,” Argyle said calmly as he maneuvered around Nancy and came farther into the store.  “Looks like we got a disagreement on our hands.”

Steve could see as the man pulled a more genial facade over himself and turned to speak to Argyle, “Nothing to worry about.  Just an issue of customer service.”  He tried to pat Steve on the shoulder, but Steve ducked away, keeping a safe distance between them now and still not taking his eyes off him.

“Sure not what it looked like to me, dude,” Argyle countered, coming closer to the man.

The man strained to smile at Argyle.  “I’m sure it’s just a misunderstanding.”

While Argyle was talking, Steve saw Nancy walk in a wide loop to get to a better position.  Her shoulders were tense, and he could tell she was still pretty alert.

“Uh, I don’t think so, my man.  That’s okay.  Just, you know… a quick question.  Have you ever tried not being a dumbass?” Argyle asked so calmly, starting to peruse the magazines on display at the register.

“What?” the man asked, dumbfounded.

“Yeah, I mean, like, it’d be a great day if you accidentally grabbed a glue stick instead of your chapstick, my man.  Not everyone needs to hear you be a whiny bitch about… what was it, Steve?”  Argyle pivoted to look at him.

Steve paused to make sure it wasn’t a rhetorical question, but it seemed Argyle was genuine.  “He was mad Robin was eating.”

Argyle nodded, sagely.  “Yeah, man, bad opinion.  Would’ve been better to keep that one to yourself,” he told the man.

The man started to puff up again and said, “You can’t speak to me like that!”

“Whoops, my bad, I could’ve sworn I was talking to an adult,” Argyle responded.  “Didn’t realize I’d be hurting your sensibilities by speaking the truth.”

All Steve could see was the man opening and closing his mouth, trying to figure out how to respond.

“Did you hear that?” Argyle asked earnestly, pausing for a long moment.  He continued, “That’s the sound of me not caring about whatever you’re trying to say, dude.  Seriously, bro, were you born this stupid or did you take lessons?  Get out of here.”  He nodded to the door, before continuing to flip through the magazine.

Steve heard Argyle say under his breath, “Ooo, I need to recommend these guys to Jon.  Band looks pretty chill,” as he read the article.

The man didn’t move for another long, tense moment – on the part of everyone except Argyle – before finally tucking his tail between his legs and fleeing.

Once the door finally swung shut, Argyle closed the magazine and set it on the counter, saying, “Whelp, I’m glad that douchebag’s out of here.”

At last, Steve said, “Thanks, man,” feeling like he could finally talk and no longer was frozen in a state of conflict, trying to decide whether to fight or take Robin and flee.

Nancy sidled up to Argyle from where she’d positioned herself in case of the worst and gave him a soft smile.  “You surprised me,” she said softly.

“Yeah,” Robin chimed in.  “Where did that come from?”  

Steve nodded because he knew exactly how she was feeling; he felt it too, like the world tilted on its axis since Argyle could be so casually mean.  Sure, he could be a bitch, too, but he tried to rein it in, especially at work, and even then, he was more ‘mean girl,’ according to Robin, as opposed to someone who ripped apart your being like Argyle just did.

“Eh.”  Argyle just shrugged.  “California’s just a different place, dude and dudettes.”

Read Chapter 2