#bill has mommy issues

[lisztomaniac-mp3]

IVE BEEN A PUPPET A PAUPER A PIRATE A POET A PAWN AND A KING

and I'm writing multiple novels worth of post-canon gravity falls fanfiction with handyman bill and mabcifica and billford and maybe some billfiddlesford and sooooo much bill angst also puerto rican pines and lots of soos being wonderful and melody being insanely motherly to bill. All the good stuff.

[yrooxrksvigirzmtovwzwwb]

Billy...

I see them...

The stars...

R G H H L K Z R M U F O

[dimensionbled]

How would Ford react to knowing you have a kid now?

"Dunno, you tell me."

"Besides, why would I care about what that backstabber has to say about my wife and daughter? They don't have anything to do with Sixxer and I's past. That's like bringing Stanley and Ford's mom into a zombie apocalypse and watching her flesh being torn straight from her body because I pushed her for raising two idiots. Even I have standards-- rarely, but sometimes. Leave my kid out of it too."

[noyasmashing]

Daichi getting dommed by his girlfriend?! Since he's in the police maybe his girlfriend is a detective or some form of government official that works with the police all the tine!!!

★ BAD BOY. daichi!

౨ৎ :: masterlist. reblogs are appreciated.

• warning: daichi + fem!dom reader, male penetration/fingering, mommy kink, cum eating, daichi has the “asian flush”

Daichi really wasn’t the one to drink. Actually, he shouldn’t be drinking. He lacked the enzyme that broke down alcohol once consumed. He wasn't suited for it, plain and simple. However, there were exceptions to his rule.

More often than not, he found himself holding a drink at parties, and tonight was no different. After months of tireless investigation, the combined efforts of the police officers and detectives had finally paid off, solving a particularly complex case. As a well-deserved reward, the team decided to treat themselves to a celebratory night out. They reserved a cozy private room at a highly-regarded restaurant, famous for its exceptional craft cocktails.

Their boss, in a thoughtful gesture, had arranged for everyone's drinks to be pre-ordered and paid for, ensuring that the team could relax and enjoy each other's company without worrying about the bill.

Daichi's concern about his metabolic issue flared up as he was handed a cold drink. However he disregarded it. After all, it was only natural that he felt compelled to partake, he didn’t want to seem stuck up, or rude. He started out with small sips, attempting to feign enjoyment.

No one had even noticed, he had gone almost the entirety of the party without even finishing half. Fortunately, everyones attention was diverted by a heartfelt speech from their respected superior officer, acknowledging the team's hard work and dedication.

As the party continued, Daichi's attention was divided between the celebratory speech and your persistent touch. Initially, the gentle rubbing of his thigh was a reflexive response to his coworkers' congratulations. But as the atmosphere mellowed, your hand remained, sending sparks of sensation through his body. The fleeting touches near his upper thigh were maddening, making him feel like he was losing control.

You couldn't help but notice his gaze lingering on you throughout the night, his eyes drawn to the subtle details of your attire - the short skirt, the blouse that teased just enough to hint at what lay beneath. It was clear you were deliberately drawing attention to yourself, and Daichi couldn't help but be captivated by your presence.

“Shall we take care of your issue in the bathroom?” you whispered in Daichi's ear, your voice dripping with teasing intent.

As he tried to maintain a stoic expression, you couldn't help but giggle at his failed attempt to hide his emotions. His temples flexed in frustration as he remained silent, his grip on your hand tightening under the table.

“You know we can’t do that.” He reasoned, tuning to meet your gaze, just for a moment.

You purred out, “Suit yourself,” in response, your eyes never leaving his face. Before smoothly turning to another detective and launching into a conversation about a different case you were working on together.

Daichi turned to look at his own friends, but struggled to process any of their words, his mind consumed by a maelstrom of inappropriate thoughts. In a desperate attempt to shake off the tormenting sensations and clear his mind, Daichi turned his attention to his drink, downing the remaining contents of his glass with a swift motion. The sudden rush of liquid warmth doing little to calm his racing thoughts.

As he struggled to clear the unpleasant aftertaste of his previous drink, Daichi's eyes fluttered open to find the group surrounding him, refilling their glasses.

Before he could process the situation, the room erupted into a chorus of cheers and toasts, and someone was pressing another glass into his hand. With a sense of obligation, Daichi reluctantly accepted the offering, not wanting to be rude or spoil the celebratory atmosphere. As he added the new drink to his already-lively mix, Daichi couldn't help but lament the fact that he had now consumed two cocktails.

As the surprise toast came to a close, the room began to empty out, with many people saying their goodbyes and departing the restaurant. Daichi noticed your growing impatience, and he felt his own unease mounting. He tried to sound nonchalant as he suggested, "Uh, m-maybe we should get going?" His words were laced with a subtle sense of desperation.

Your hand had been resting on his knee for a moment, but then it drifted away, your gaze flicking to your watch as if checking the time.

You nodded curtly, responding with a, "About time," and turning your attention back to him. "Do you have the keys?" you asked, your tone tinged with a hint of concern as you took in his flushed appearance. Without argument, Daichi handed over the keys, preparing to bid farewell to his coworkers and make a hasty exit.

As you both rose from your seats, Daichi's hand instinctively reached out and grasped the back of your jacket, his fingers digging in slightly as he struggled to steady himself. The sudden movement left him feeling lightheaded, and his face flushed with embarrassment as he realized his mistake. You, however, merely raised an eyebrow and tried to stifle a chuckle, indulging in a discreet caress of his backside as you did so.

You were well aware that Daichi was one of those people who didn't handle his liquor well, and the signs were all too clear. "It was nice seeing you, Chief," you said with a charming smile, shaking his hand firmly as you bid him farewell. Daichi nodded mutely, his eyes fixed on yours with a mixture of fear and distraction as your wandering hand continued its gentle exploration of his body. He was too intimidated to say anything, too preoccupied with the sensation of your touch to speak up.

Once you two were out of the restaurant the cool night air hit Daichi like a train. His breathing came in short, ragged gasps, and he stumbled slightly as he walked to the car. “Why did I park so far away.” He groaned, facepalming when he remembered his decision from earlier that day.

“What’s up with you?” you asked, your voice low and concerned as you raised an eyebrow in inquiry. The crunch of gravel beneath your feet was the only sound breaking the silence as Daichi hesitated.

“Wh-what do you mean?” Daichi stammered, finally turning to face you with a flush rising up his cheeks.

You shot him a concerned glance. "Did you drink too much or something, Sawa? You're breathing heavier than normal," you remarked, wrapping your arm around his waist to steady him as you walked towards the car in the dimly lit parking lot.

"I'm sorry," he muttered, his voice barely audible. "I felt rude not drinking, and then...of course, there was you..." He trailed off, his words hanging in the air as you approached the car, the silence between you thickening like fog.

But before he could break free and make his way to the passenger seat, you pinned him against the sleek, freshly washed car you had purchased together. The new sedan's gleaming surface reflected the dim parking lot lights, creating a sense of intimacy as you leaned in, your breath warm against his ear.

"What about me?" you whispered, your voice husky with desire. "Don't tell me you were turned on in front of your coworkers." you cooed, your knee gliding up to nestle against his groin, the movement deliberate and sensual.

His breath hitched, and he found himself grasping onto your jacket with an anxious intensity. "So-so what if I was?" he questioned, his voice trembling as he felt his heart pounding in his ears, his body burning with a sudden, intense heat.

His eyes widened as you made the bold move of pulling open the second-row door, revealing the dark interior of the car. "I can't wait till we get home," you whispered, your voice low and seductive, "and I don't think you can either." With that, you guided him into the back seat, the motion smooth and deliberate.

The effects of the alcohol were plain to see on him once you sat down beside him. You could almost hear his racing heart, his face a deep crimson, and the most captivating sight of all was his ragged breathing, as if he'd run a mile.

It was the most intoxicatingly vulnerable you had ever seen him, and by God, it was incredibly attractive. Once you closed the door behind you both, your lips crashed together in a sloppy, frenzied kiss. One that was full of fervor and desperation on his part.

Without hesitation, you started to undo the buttons of his shirt. "I think you're going to need a little discipline for overindulging, don't you?" you whispered into his ear, taking a gentle moment to nip at the lobe.

He let out a soft moan, his head nodding in agreement as you spoke. His apologies tumbled out in a slurred, endearing manner. Daichi was typically contrite and apologetic for his mistakes, so it was unusual for him to receive punishment like this, it made him excited.

"Actually," you said, pulling back to gaze at him with a playful smile. His eyes, still glassy from the drink, met yours, and he stared at you with a dazed expression. "You know what? You're adorable when you're tipsy. Kinda like when I finish fucking your brains out.”

He felt his body flare with heat at your words. The only thing his mushy brain could get out was a “please!” His whole body starting to tremble with anticipation as the desire burned within him. Your words conjured vivid images in his mind, leaving him breathless and unsure of himself. He felt like he was drowning in a sea of emotions, his mind racing with conflicting thoughts: plead, sob, or surrender. Your gentle teasing was torturous, leaving him helpless and at your mercy.

"Please? What do you want, sawamura?" you asked, your tone softening as you reached out to gently push him down onto his forearms.

He looked up at you with half-lidded eyes and wet lips. "F-fuck... fuck me.” he forced out, his breath catching in his throat as your hands ran gently along his chest, tracing the curve of his nipples.

“I don’t have my strap with me, darling.” You sighed, your hands tracing a gentle path along his torso. His abs contracted and relaxed, shifting beneath your touch. As you spoke, he let out a disappointed sob, his head tilting back in surrender.

“Don’t be greedy, my fingers will do just fine.” And with that, he was suddenly being flipped on all fours, his perky ass presented to you, the fabric of his clothes now inches from your face.

“Y-yes.. yes ma’am, sorry ma’am.” He relented, arching his back in attempts to appease you. You released a contented hum, then unfastened his belt and slowly slid down the zipper of his dress pants.

As soon as his undergarments were removed, his throbbing cock sprang free, glistening with precum that dripped down onto his dress shirt, a rather unfortunate turn of events.

Not to mention his hole, which clenched in eager anticipation of whatever you had in store. Your initial move was to spit on it, which was fortunate, as you would have needed lubricant anyway. He let out a soft "Ahh" of pleasure, sinking deeper into position as he did so.

You leaned forward, your body pressed against his, as you guided two fingers into his mouth from behind. "Open," you commanded, and he complied.

He struggled to resist the urge to suck on your fingers as you roughly explored his tongue, making him gag. A muffled string of moans escaped his lips, accompanied by a gasp as you withdrew your fingers.

"I'm supposed to be punishing you," you scoffed, "but you're responding like this is some kind of reward." you added, scoldingly. You then proceeded to line your now-wet fingers with his tight hole.

"Relax," you instructed as your fingers slid into him. Ordinarily, you would have taken your time to ease him into it, inserting just one finger to begin with. But the circumstances didn't allow for that level of finesse. Instead, you established a rough and demanding pace, one that had him groaning and whimpering into his palm.

"Slow down!" he pleaded, his words slurred with a mixture of protest and pleasure. Despite his plea, his hips continued to move in tandem with your pace, practically fucking himself on your fingers.

You couldn't help but laugh at the drunken scene unfolding before you, one hand rising to make a harsh, stinging contact with his exposed ass. His skin was hot to the touch, and his entire body seemed to vibrate with excitement.

His light pants were now a canvas of moans, his cries of pleasure and pain mingling in a chorus of ecstasy. The stifling air in the car grew thick and heavy, the windows fogging up.

"I wonder how the team would react to seeing you like this," you sneered, your voice dripping with disdain. "Knowing that I fucked you in the back of your car, and you took it like a good slut."

You dug your fingers deeper, searching for his most sensitive spot, and he winced in response. "Stoppp," he drunkenly begged, his voice muffled by his hand. You couldn't help but snort in derision at his demand.

"If you want me to stop, then why are you dripping allll over the seat?" You taunted, your gaze flicking down to the damp fabric. "Somebody's going to have to clean this up, you know."

He paused, his mind processing your words as a wave of tension washed over him. Though you couldn't see his physical response, you sensed it with certainty - his cock was twitching at your rather harsh degradation.

"I'm gonna cum, mommy." he whimpered alas, his voice trembling and nasal, in a tone that was foreign to you. He rarely addressed you with such endearments, so you knew that the alcohol must have loosened his inhibitions. "I'm gonna cum b-because your being so mean to me." he stammered, his words punctuated by sniffles.

"Hmmm," you murmured, slowing your movements deliberately. You couldn't help but appreciate the way his ass looked, supple and inviting as it yielded to your fingers. You didn't want this moment to end too soon. "Perhaps I should make you wait until we get home," You suggested, your voice low and sadistic with a hint of amusement.

He let out a despairing "Hmph" and a muffled string of "no"s as he struggled to force your fingers deeper inside him. To his frustration, you took a firm hold of his hips, preventing him from generating any friction through his own movements.

"You tell me, sawa, how bad do you want to come?" you asked in a calm, measured tone, tracing small circles on his hips and barely pumping him with your fingers.

As you gazed at him, you could see his Adam's apple bob up and down, his ear that angled towards you flushed a deep red, while his face remained mostly hidden behind his arm. The tremble in his voice was palpable as he hesitantly spoke up. "I... I want to so badly. I need to. My head feels all fuzzy, I can't take it! Please. P-please. Please, Mommy. Let me have this."

It was an understatement to say you were surprised. You had rarely witnessed Daichi so beset by neediness. Maybe his “Asian flush”, a hallmark of his vulnerability, only added to his desperation. You were certain you wouldn't be treated to this sight again anytime soon, so you intended to savor every moment of it.

"Lay on your back f’me. I wanna see your face." You urged in a gentle tone. He almost let out a sob when you detached from him, but your words steadied him. He shakily flipped onto his back, propping himself up on his forearms to gaze up at you. The agonizing seconds it took to reposition yourself felt like an eternity to him. As you finally resumed the motion, he let out a guttural moan, as if begging you to accelerate the pace. Unbeknownst to him, you added a third finger to the mix. Your gaze was transfixed on his face, drinking in the sight of his features twisted in a mix of pleasure and strain.

His labored breathing morphed into soft moans, his nose wrinkling as a single bead of sweat slid down his forehead, tracing the messy contours of his hair. The sight was almost mesmerizing, and you couldn't help but notice that your gaze was heightening his arousal. "You're so pretty, sawa, go ahead and come for me," you coaxed, abandoning any notion of this being a punishment.

But how could you be cruel to your lover when his throbbing cock quivered against his abs, as if begging for release? It was a pitiful yet endearing sight, one that tugged at your heartstrings. Just as your other hand reached out to claim his cock, he burst forth with a ragged cry, his semen coating his torso and the open expanse of his shirt.

A soft, whispered "Thank you, mommy" escaped his trembling lips, as his eyelids remained tightly closed, his gaze shut off from the world.

It took him a moment to collect himself, his breathing still ragged as you withdrew your hand from his under side. He anticipated a trip to the baby wipes, so his tiny whimper of surprise was all the more adorable when your warm tongue made contact with his skin instead. His eyes flew open, taking in the sight of you lapping up his semen.

His initial reaction was a gasp, which turned into a stunned silence as you pulled him in for a kiss mere seconds later, the taste of his own come mingling with yours on his tongue.

He eagerly swallowed everything you gave him, determined to prove he could handle it, just like he handled three of your fingers.

You pulled back, leaving a trail of saliva connecting the two of you, your mischievous glint hinting at the tease that was to come. "I should make you lick the seat clean," you said, your tone playful and unrepentant. Though he winced at the humiliation of the task, he couldn't deny the desire to submit to your whims.

[mrsdarkandyandere7]

❤ Yandere Criminal ❤

▶ This is a yandere/dark work and it may contain triggering content so please READ THE WARNINGS before. Do not read if minor.

More at Masterlist

Female reader

WARNINGS: Kidnapping.

Little gift for the New Year! Hope you guys like it :)

--

◾ Yandere!Criminal whose specialty is small robberies of convenience stores and bodegas, nothing that goes beyond that.

That also means that money is tight, it’s hard enough to cover for the insanely high rent, let alone cover for monthly groceries, water and electricity bills.

◾ Yandere!Criminal who’s fucking tired of sitting in his dark shitty apartment, smoking a blunt in hopes of deceiving the hunger that rumbles in his stomach. 

He lays back on his second-hand couch, eyes following the gray ropes of smoke that ascend from his lips, mind racing on every possible way of making money fast.

His rent is due in a week and his fridge is desolately empty, aside from a bottle of water. 

◾ Yandere!Criminal who gets restless and in the spur of the moment, decides to head out on a walk around his block. Maybe that’ll give him some ideas or distract him from the ache in his stomach. 

◾ Yandere!Criminal barely takes a few steps into the street when he sees you. 

A pretty girl walking down the street, eyes nervously darting towards every shadow that moves. 

What are you doing out in the dark street at such hours?

It’s way past midnight, as the old watch in his wrist tells him. That’s not time for a girl like you to be out, especially not his neighborhood at least.

You’re lucky that no one has approached you yet or you wouldn’t be looking so damn cute right now. 

◾ Yandere!Criminal whose interest is spiked when he notices the clothes you’re wearing under the dim moonlight.

The short dress only long enough to cover your ass, the high stiletto heels clicking on the dirty floor at each step you take. 

You’re looking like a serious sex-bomb in those clothes, despite the scaredy expression covering your dolled-up face. 

But a second look at your body has him squinting his eyes, brain engines rolling as he examines your outfit.

Is that a fucking Prada cocktail dress? And the heels that you’re wearing Louboutins? The fancy purse, a Channel limited edition? It’s got to be daddy’s money, cause that face of yours isn’t giving smart vibes.

◾ Yandere!Criminal who instantly knows this is destiny.

You were sent to him for a reason. And the reason is that you’re his new bank account. 

You have to be, otherwise it would’ve been some disgusting scumbag to find you first. 

He wastes no time in reaching out for you. He knows he’s not bad looking, high-cheekbones and lustrous dark hair. Hopefully that works in his favor. 

And it certainly does, a kind expression on his face as he offers you help. You immediately accept - so fucking naive, you poor dumb thing - immediately blabbering that your phone lost battery and that you’re sooo late to his super-chick party whose address you’re not entirely sure of. 

◾ Yandere!Criminal who nods, pretending to understand all your issues. Slapping his face as he remembers that - oh, yeah, he kinda forgot his phone in his apartment. Maybe you’d want to come with him while he grabs it?

It’s not safe for you to be out here, on your own. Dangerous neighborhood and all of that.

And you follow him right away, like a lost duckling. It’s so easy, a smirk creeping on his face when you enter his apartment.  

◾ Yandere!Criminal who instantly pounces on you, dragging you by the hair to his bedroom, a new found adrenaline running down his body.

You shriek and cry out loudly so he’s forced to push some old cloths on your mouth, using duct tape.

Honestly, he’s not even that worried about you getting away cause you’re barely able to put any fight. You’re a weak little thing, aren’t you?

◾ Yandere!Criminal who only waits a day before contacting mommy and daddy, demanding a good amount of green for them to be able to retrieve you.

He thinks a lot about how’s it gonna play out, creating a plan that sounds pretty much bullet-proof.

He gets easily distracted by you, eyes greedily running over your body. The dress doing even less to cover you in the daytime light, the make-up smudged and half-disappearing, revealing a younger – cuter – face.

You’re relatively obedient too, toning down your hysterical cries after he harshly yelled at you. He could bet that if he put on a mean face and threatened you, you’d probably suck him off. 

◾ Yandere!Criminal who finally gets his money, a large grin opening up in his face as he receives the cash. More than enough for him to move into a fancy mansion on a private neighborhood and retire for the rest of his days. 

No more stealing, no more spending his days worried about rent or food. Now he can finally sip on a freshly-made margarita and relax by the infinity-pool of his new house, the sunny rays hitting his toned skin. 

Maybe after he’s done with his drink, he’ll go pay you a visit. You’re still adapting to your new house - and him, hence why he’s keeping you in a tight leash (literally). 

Now you’re all his. His little ATM.

[togrowoldinv]

Settlement

Milf!Wanda Maximoff x Female Reader

You serve as Wanda’s attorney in her divorce proceedings, which leads to you helping Wanda see she can start again with someone new

Warnings: Smut! 18+ please! Kissing, cursing, slight mommy kink, fingering (W receiving), oral (R receiving)

Note: Milf Wanda 🤩 Enjoy!

Milf Wanda Masterlist, Main Masterlist

You try to never get too close to your clients. In your career, you like to form personal relationships with the people you provide services for, but never too personal.

That system was working pretty well until you met Wanda Maximoff. A friend of hers had suggested you to her for legal services. Her husband had hired the second-best attorney in town to defend him in the divorce. She insisted that, as the best, you help her.

You felt drawn to Wanda from the first moment you met her. She has an endearing way about her. She captivates the attention of everyone in the room without ever uttering a word. Just her presence is enough to draw attention.

There were several late nights spent at the office working on her case. You would call her and discuss how things were going. She had to get up early to get her kids ready for school, but she always stayed on the line until she was practically asleep.

Today, the case was finally settled. Wanda got the custody she wanted, thanks to you. If you’re being honest with yourself, you felt sad seeing Wanda for the last time. Her company is something you’ve grown accustomed to.

Wanda felt the same way. Which is why she got her checkbook and drove to your office one more time. You are deep in the next case’s work papers when you hear a knock on your door.

“I’m busy,” you mumble, figuring it was someone needing your assistance.

“Too busy for me?” your favorite voice in the world says.

You look up from your files to see her standing there in all of her glory. The beautiful Wanda Maximoff.

“Is everything alright, Ms. Maximoff?” You ask, standing up from your desk.

Wanda notices the way your eyes flicker to the way her chest looks in the blouse she’s wearing. She eyes your body too as you don a dark colored suit.

“Oh yes, everything is fine,” Wanda says. “I just wanted to thank you again for everything.”

“You’re welcome, ma’am,” you say.

Wanda is definitely older than you and her eyes tend to darken when you use terms like ma’am or call her missus.

“Come further in and have a seat.”

“Thank you, sweetheart,” Wanda says. The word flows off her tongue with ease. “Have I mentioned that this office is very impressive?”

“You have, but I never mind hearing it again,” you tell her. You can’t help the grin that forms on your face. “It feels nice to have my own space.”

“Right,” Wanda says. “While I’m here, I thought I could pay my final bill.”

“Oh, you don’t need to do that until you get an invoice,” you say. “I talked to the billing department and did get some of those fees waived though. I don’t want finances to be an issue.”

“Well, thank you,” she says. “I guess I should just be going then.”

“Have a good night, ma’am.”

Wanda stands up and walks towards the door. You notice she takes her time. So much of you wants to stand up and call after her, but you just aren’t sure if you should.

Luckily, Wanda turns around on her on accord.

“Y/n,” she begins. “Forgive me if I’m overstepping, but do you think I have a chance at this new single thing?”

“Meaning?”

“I haven’t been alone since I was sixteen,” Wanda says. She walks back to the chair she was previously sitting in. “I don’t know how to be single.”

“It’ll be an adjustment,” you say. “But I know you can do it.”

“Maybe if I just get the first times out of the way,” Wanda wonders aloud. “Like the first date, kiss, all of that.”

You listen to her but don’t say anything. You can’t get a read on her. Does she want to do those things with you? Or are you projecting?

“Maybe we could- never mind,” Wanda says.

“We could what?” you finally speak again.

“Well, it’s just you have been so kind to me,” she says. “I was thinking maybe you could help me out one last time.”

“Okay,” you say. “How can I help you?”

“Will you kiss me?” Wanda asks.

“Oh.”

“I just- no I know it’s silly!” Wanda says.

She stands and paces in front of your desk. You rise and walk to her.

“Hey, it’s not silly,” you say.

“No?”

“No. If you want me to, I will kiss you.”

“Please.”

You take her face between your hands and brush her cheeks with your thumbs. The blush on her cheeks and the way she closes her eyes in anticipation makes your heart flutter.

Taking your time to lean in, you finally place your lips on hers. The electricity is palpable. You kiss her slowly, taking in everything that is Wanda. She deepens the kiss. When your tongue brushes against hers, she loses balance.

“Oh,” Wanda mumbles, pulling away just enough to regain her balance.

“How was that?” You ask her.

“Better than I could’ve ever imagined.”

“Yeah?”

Wanda nods. She feels herself yearning for you even more now. Asking for a kiss was a test to see if she wanted more.

Without uttering a word, she kisses you this time. Wanda pushes you back towards your desk, and you sit on the edge. Her intentions are clear in the way she slots her thigh between your legs.

“Wanda,” you say breathlessly. She moves her lips to your neck. “Wanda. Ms. Maximoff, slow down.”

Wanda stops and looks at you. You’re both flushed.

“Are you okay?” She asks.

“Yeah. I just want to make sure you want this.”

“I want this. I want you, sweetheart.”

“Then take me.”

Wanda gasps at your words, and you continue to take her breath away. Your hands make quick work of unbuttoning her blouse. The material falls to the floor along with her bra. You move your lips to her chest and suck on her perfect nipples.

She lets out the most beautiful moans. You move your hand to her pants and slip it down her jeans. Moving your fingers over her wet folds, you nip at her breasts.

“Fuck,” Wanda says. “Baby, please.”

“I’ve got you, mommy,” the word slips out.

“Fuck,” she mumbles.

You pull down her pants and finally insert your fingers into her. She gasps with every thrust.

“Come for me, mommy,” you tell her. “All for me.”

“All for you, baby,” Wanda says.

She comes hard against your fingers. She buries her face in your shoulder as she regains her breath. You kiss her head.

“May I?” Wanda asks, her eyes shyly looking towards your core.

“You may,” you say, with a slight chuckle at her sweetness.

Wanda kneels in front of you and pulls your pants down to the floor. She drops kisses to your thighs.

“Don’t tease me, Wanda.”

She continues to kiss you everywhere but where you need her the most. You take her hair and pull her into your pussy. Wanda licks you before taking your clit in her mouth.

“Fuck, mommy,” you say.

“Fuck,” she moans against you.

It doesn’t take long for Wanda to make you come against her tongue. You bring her up for a searing kiss.

You’re both breathless as you look into each other’s eyes. Your hearts flutter.

“Thank you,” Wanda says.

“Anytime, Ms. Maximoff,” you say. “Only the best for my clients.”

Wanda giggles sweetly, and you kiss her lips once again. You have a feeling you’ll be doing this quite often.

[teeramoonlover]

This got me thinking.

Billy Loomis, Stu Macher/William Afton, and Bo Sinclair as they grew older, at some point they need someone from their own flesh and blood to continue their legacy, right?

So yeah those three gonna build one big happy family with reader, and their kids gonna be a bunch of satan's spawn but only being lovely to their own mom/dad/guardian.

And ofc in this case, those three lovely slashers ain't dead in these scenario.

Billy Loomis

As we all know, Samantha Carpenter is the infamous daughter of Billy Loomis. But what if Billy Loomis actually have another kid from the reader? I'm gonna assume this guy gonna be his son.

(My pov) His son definitely will hunt and kill the Ghostface, who dare to be like his dad. In his mind, he was like 'my dad and his friend are the only Ghostface, no one's gotta be like him. And it will stay that way'. So to ease his bloodlust, instead of killing innocents, why not just kill these Ghostface rookies. It's like they're asking for it, didn't they?

Not surprised to see he loves horror movies, maybe get inspiration from crime documentaries. High chance he is the mastermind and have many ways to lure those new Ghostface to him. Tempting to torture them like John Kramer did to his victims.

Oh and if his dad has mommy issue, bro got a whole daddy issues coming in. Like father, like son

Cast (Son): Benjamin Wadsworth

Born: 1997

Stu Macher/William Afton

If Stu Macher had a kid, ya bet his children gonna be a goofball like him? Wrong. In fact (from my pov), his son gonna double up from Stu's inner psychotic tendency in him. More aggressive, more violent and more unhinged. His son knew to embrace madness.

If Stu Macher become a killer because of peer pressure, this kid just pure psycho. Instead of being a friendly social butterfly or party king like his dad, he's the appitome of school's bad boy type of thing. It's either being mean or meanest.

Don't let me start on him becoming Micheal Afton.

If he gets proper love from his mom/guardian, he gonna be a big softie and overprotective (possessive) to his love ones. Gonna be hella toxic. He can be good, only with his mom/guardian, but to someone else? Rarely occasion.

Cast (Son): Drew Starkey

Born: 1996

Bo Sinclair

Ok first of all we all know, BO SINCLAIR IS A BEAST IN BED (rip reader's cunt/rim hole) and when he knew reader is pregnant, he was worried he might not be a good father figure to his kid until their first child born. Things change. Seeing his son's big blue eyes, like him, stir something in him. The Sinclair Jr made him soft. So ofc, Bo becomes bold and wants another child cuz he doesn't want his son to be lonely.

It's to be expected. To be apart of the Sinclair, they would eventually have twins sooner or later. Thank god both their son's head still intact in one piece. On the other hand, his three sons grew handsomely and receive motherly love from the reader.

The eldest, have a nasty tempered like his dad. You got on his way, he'll beat the shit out of you. He only be really nice to someone he care most, like his mama dearest. Always goes to church with his dad to see his grandma and help him in the garage.

The twins - The first twin (middle child) definitely got the charm from his dad. Knows how to be a sweetheart to ladies, but can be deadly once he hunt them for his uncle's sculpture. Most likely helping Vincent to build the museum. Might as well make an art museum next door too.

The second gonna be a rebellion, daredevil (youngest child) Well, not like strapping him to the chair. No no, mama won't like that. He loves adventure so definitely follow uncle Lester from town to town. He likes hunting, depends whether the prey will be animals or people. He can be nice. Charming too. Gonna be good friends with Stu's son, probably.

Cast (Sons): Eldest - Bill Skarsgård, Middle - Harris Dickinson, Youngest - Rudeth Pankow

Born: Eldest - 1994, Twins - 1996

Yep, one big chaotic, happy family indeed.

[billcipher-rpblog]

BILL CIPHER HERE!

YOU'RE PROBABLY WONDERING WHY AND HOW I MANAGED TO GET MY HANDS ON THIS HELLSITE!! WELL, WHO CARES? WHAT MATTERS IS I'M ALLOWING YOU PUNY MORTALS TO ASK ME QUESTIONS!!

IT'S AN AN OPPORTUNITY OF A LIFETIME. PEOPLE WOULD KILL, RIP THEIR OWN SKIN OFF THEIR FLESH, AND/OR SELL THEIR SOULS AWAY JUST TO GET A CHANCE TO SEE ME.

SO GO AHEAD, GO CRAZY, ASK ME ANYTHING! OR DON'T!! I DON'T CARE!

EDIT: SOME OF YOU ARE ACTUALLY DISGUSTING WITH THE ASKS. LOOK I GET YOU FREAKS ARE DESPERATE FOR ME BUT IT GETS BORING AFTER A WHILE, SO TONE IT DOWN. ONLY I GET TO BE THIRSTY. (FOR SIXER)

(OOC rambles below)

- Friendly reminder not to take what Bill says seriously. He's just a silly little jerk who has mommy/daddy issues. That is all.

- Warning: This blog is really hard to follow from how much it updates!!

- Headcanons I use for this blog are here

#fave is a tag I use for answers/conversations I found funny or amusing

#summary or #lore is a tag I use for all the quick summaries of the RP

[lacedinweb22]

I don't wanna let you go ❦︎

inspired by Enhypen’s “Bills” - Miguel O'Hara x fem!reader (angsty chapter from my Wattpad series Vampire Next Door)

‧₊°♱༺𓆩❦︎𓆪༻♱

Miguel’s mother wasn’t gentle. His personality attests to that.

She was abusive, resentful, lacked any empathy, just overall shitty. Not much of a mother at all.

Miguel didn’t thrive at home, but he did thrive at school.

Though he was sarcastic, talked back to any authority (to be fair, he usually had a point), and had a hell of a mouth on him, his teachers gave him the validation his mother didn’t—academic validation.

He was a genius, really, and school was his distraction from the hell hole he lived in.

High school was far too slow-paced for him. And university, he found slightly challenging, but when he looked around to see everybody else was really struggling, having breakdowns, begging for his tutoring, he realized he found his courses quite easy. He realized he was different…

socially and academically.

He’s only ever had three friends, Vel being one of them.

He surprisingly found a friend in the hard-shelled vigilante, an acquaintance, someone he could banter with, argue, fight. They were there for each other.

Is it impossible to turn back time? No time.

So when he realized in addition to you possibly being hung up on some girl you used to live with, his own acquaintance had made a move on you, he came in swinging.

He reflects, remembers:

“I know you already hate me… already don’t trust me, but I need to tell you something else,” you muttered.

“Dios, what?”

“Vel… has been flirting with me. When you left, after she hurt herself, she… she kind of admitted her feelings to me.”

“Vel? Vel. Vel as in Velvet, Vel as in—”

“Yes, Mig. The only Vel we both know.”

“Vel?”

“Oh god.”

“After I cleaned up her messes, after I patched up her knee? After I—”

“I know.”

“And you did what? You said what?”

“I was kind of in shock, and I know— I can’t believe I didn’t see it coming… I just, I said I wanted you, and that’s when she brought her up. She said you were in the way like my roommate’s boyfriend was. Struck a nerve, struck several, so I left.”

One day, the invoice that you stuck on me, the pain that became my share,

He nods.

“Funny. Thought you were still hung up on her, thought you were going to abandon me and move back with her, meanwhile, the only real threat was my own fucking friend. Adds up.”

I’m sure I paid for it.

He shakes his head, forehead resting on his own big hands. He doesn’t look up at you.

****

He realizes he has mommy issues, abandonment issues, every issue in the book really.

Getting closer to you scared him. He worried he was a burden, that you’d have to deal with all of the weight that came with him. But you were reassuring, seemed like you could handle it, like you wanted to handle it.

You made him trust again, made him a better person.

He sits on the fire escape, slouched, head hung in thought.

It takes everything in him not to go to your bedroom window, just right there, he wouldn’t argue, he’d just embrace you. It’ll fix everything he thinks.

But he doesn’t. Instead, he sits, continues to think.

He never really had space for insecurity, or reason for it really, being at the top of the class with no threats ever, made him secure in himself, gave him a strong sense of confidence.

Besides… maybe the insecurity stemming from the rejection and neglect from his mother—but he refused to count that. He accepted their fucked relationship at a young age, and decided he’d become smart, build his way out of there. Fuck her. He didn’t need her. It was a lost cause,

but you, he could never give up on you. He does need you.

New emotions, love, being loved by you, this, however, brought forth a new sense of insecurity.

For once, he didn’t have control over everything, over himself.

He seeks your love, attention, wants to make you feel loved, understood, and the idea that you could find someone else to do that, made him insecure, made his heart race, body temperature hot.

Maybe his mom did have something to do with this, Vel always said so anyway. Maybe for once she was right. He feared you’d abandon him—emotionally, physically—the way the one person in the world who was meant to love him abandoned him.

He wonders how he—

Your window slides open. He turns back to see you. You look exhausted—he hates to think he’s to blame—tired, and still beautiful.

“Y/n.”

“Miguel.”

The sad way you say his name makes his stomach drop. You sit on your window sill, fiddling with your jacket.

“I’ve been thinking.”

I thought about it, it’s not paid.

He looks up at you, desperate to know what you think.

“Maybe… maybe we need a break, maybe we just need time apart,” you say, weakly.

He exhales, like he’s been punched in the stomach.

You continue, “Maybe I’m still not healed from her, and I know—I see that it hurts you.”

You sniffle, tears rolling down. You rest your head against the brick wall.

“I don’t want to let you go,” you sob, gently.

He wants to hug you, but it’ll only make this harder.

The price of parting keeps getting more and more expensive. I just wanna let it go.

Maybe he deserves to be abandoned. Maybe you’ll both hurt less this way.

Why don’t you just let me go?

He wonders if this is permanent, if it’s really the end, but it only makes him feel dizzy. He stands up, wipes the tears he didn’t realize were falling, and gives you one last look,

“If that’s what you want.”

The right price I only learned through tears. 

｡‧₊°♱༺𓆩❦︎𓆪༻♱

ughhh angst

anyways yeah shocker I'm an Engene ❀*ੈ  go stream Romance: Untold

time-skip chapter coming soon ₊ʚïɞ 

[cowgirlcherrie]

georgia canned peaches — ⋆｡°✩ 🐎 cowboy! ellie

pairing: cowboy! hitwoman! ellie x black! fem! reader. wc: 5.0K

synopsis: on the run was Tennessee’s peach, who trades a life of discomfort for security with a Texan stranger

warnings: 18+, MDNI! mommy issues, slight religious trauma if you squint, heavy touching, ellie has an accent, mentions of death and loneliness, heavily inspired by Bones and All ( minus the c*nnibalism and gore), dom! ellie, domestic! ellie, heavy use of petnames (peach, sweetness, sugar, doll), stranger danger lowkk…, mostly angst with a dash of fluff, mentions of weapons, killing, black feminine coded reader, running away, taking care of injuries, injured ellie (so mention of blood, bleeding),

━━━ ♪ peach & georgia by kevin abstract

a/n: heyy everyone!! here's a quick lengthy one-shot for cowboy-ish Ellie! if you enjoy it babis my ask button is open and I'm always accepting requests if you want headcanons, etc, but enjoy!! ⊹˚. ♡⊹˚. ♡

✧˖°.

Mama didn’t raise no bitch! Or a conniving little thief either. 

You tested that theory. Your hands became sticky with anything remotely flashy. Perhaps that was how you found out how to survive on your own. Times like this you wondered where you would be if your mama had just been a perfect Mary Sue. Made dinner, taught you how to wash your clothes and braid your hair, tucked you in at night, and just maybe taught you how to be better than a man. But now you were alone, in the hot Texan heat, and it felt like a smack to the face. Similar to her handprint the night she let you loose and hissed that you are on your own. You didn’t wanna cover the bills anymore or hear her bullcrap about how it was Adam and Eve — not Eve and Eve. You grew tired, and so did your feet that seemed to get you as far as you were now. Perhaps it wasn’t smart to smash your piggy bank taking the $500 dollars you spent bussing tables to go and a messenger duffle that could fit 3 heads. No plan either, which was significantly negligent, but your sticky fingers got you farther than you ever could, and they made sure you were fed. 

That would explain why you were stealing in a gas station grocery. Crouched by the nonperishables stuffing anything and everything into the duffle bag. Georgia peaches, check. Canned pineapple, check. Dried beans and nuts, double-check. You weren’t exactly careful, but the place loomed with unfamiliar faces who certainly were too full of themselves to stop you. So you kept going, a first aid kit for the bruises that were forming on your knees and sewing material to fix the rip in your jacket. Well not your jacket, but your dad's jacket. Brown thick cotton over your shoulders to cover the long dress you were in, it was a smart decision. The jacket kept you warm on the desert nights, and it made home in your hands during the day. The little pockets are perfect for stuffing loads of crap you don’t need. With the crack of another can hitting the floor, it paralleled a shiny brown boot. Drenched in leather and gold detailing as it smacked the tile. Left foot – right foot – left again. Your eyes followed the trail of feet, ignoring the can that rolled away from you as a hand reached down to pick it up. A roughened, bloody, feminine freckled hand. Now the mystery girl was looming over your figure, in an authoritative stance, as if her ego had been bigger than her height itself. But she was also bleeding. Her right arm clenched to her hip as blood seeped between her fingers. 

“Yers’ drop somethin’ peach?” The accent sent a shiver up your spine. It was thick and unfamiliar but maybe the word peach, at the end masked her roughness. You now made eye contact with the girl, green eyes looming into yours as you shakily took the can of peaches.

“M’sorry that was my bad,” you mumbled taking the peaches back and tucking them into your chest. You couldn’t slip it back into your bag now, next thing you know she would yell THIEF! and drag you by your collar to the front counter. But the woman was in such poor shape to do so, her freckled face wincing ever so slightly with every movement her body made. She was a cowgirl, you’ve heard all about them in the papers but didn’t take them for the real deal. Her hat told you all you need to know, brown to match her thick belt and blue bell bottoms. Oh, she was the real deal.

“Could ya be a doll n’ grab me a kit” The woman groaned out, pushing her body weight in front of you. Her standing position contrasted yours that was crouched down, at eye level with the material. “You’s a real catch ya know? Put the peaches back in. I know you were stealin’” This made you freeze. Fuck!Fuck!Fuck! Your brain shouted you were screwed.

Your hands now moved slower reaching for the kit in front of you, and you suddenly realized how overly close the woman was to you. Almost blocking your field of vision from anything to your left. You ignored her statement, as you shakily lifted the first aid kit to her hands. 

“Peach…you are a delight, but now you listen,” The woman didn’t take the kit, “A camera has been pointed at ya for the past 5, and now you got Tina’ at counter watchin’ ya. You are gonna live up to bein’ delightful and pay for this one thing” The woman was scrounging in her pocket and you took the moment of silence to think to yourself, you had barely any money. $500 was something you needed to make stretch.

“What?”

“I don’ take you for a fool, I’m Ellie, and I mean no harm.” Ellie took off her hat placing it over the left side of her chest at her heart, giving you a simple nod before putting the dusted brown hat back on her head. Ellie this time put a stained $10 bill on top of the first aid kit that had been suspended in the air by your hand. This action made you stand up – eye level with this time. Noticed the girl has a height to her, her figure looming over you as you stood.

“Give me the bag [what?] your bag sweetness! we don’t got all day, dammit I’m hurt” Ellie stated bluntly. There was no more time for jokes or stealing any more Georgia canned peaches. There were better things to worry about. Like the fact that you can go to jail for stealing and Ellie who was bleeding out in front of you. You slid your brown bag off your shoulder handing it to Ellie who swung it over her left shoulder. 

“Go see Tina with ‘er blonde hair, act sweet, say your visitin’ family. If they ask, say the Williams Ranch, she’ll give you no hard time” Ellie started as she was giving you instructions, “When ya finish, keep the change, meet me at my car I’ll be outside. You get your bag – I fix my wound, and you get the fuck outta town.” Ellie finished. This time her look was stern, and aggressive as if she was testing you. Testing your loyalty, your honesty, your act. She wanted to see how you worked under pressure, she wanted you to suffocate from fear. All you could do is nod, swallowing harshly, as Ellie turned her body walking down the Isle to your left.

You took the initiative to make your way to ‘Tina’. Ellie was right, the blonde had been suspicious of you. Asked you all the questions that Ellie said she would, but she backed off once you mentioned the Williams Ranch. Handing you the exact change of 0.50 cents and a hospitable smile, saying “Have a great day.” Tina’s defensiveness changed with one simple title. This made you wonder how much authority Ellie had over the place, questions flooding through your brain as you pushed the door and walked out, being met with the setting sun.

The sun was getting low, and there wouldn’t be a motel for another mile out. Sure you could do the walk but you weren’t guaranteed anything. A whistle brought you out of your trance, belonging to Ellie who this time had a toothpick between her cushioned pink lips, as her body leaned against a ran down red car, with muddied wheels. You jogged over this time seeing that your bag was missing from her shoulders rather this time in the passenger seat of her car. 

“Here you go, what you asked.” You pushed the first aid kit into her hands like you’d done back in the store. Ellie mumbled a thank you, as she nibbled on the toothpick. This time, taking the kit and putting it on the hood of the car. 

“Yous’ as quiet as a mouse, but orders ya take well…Peach could you help me patch up, I ensure you a place to stay and food in return – all comfort no lies…” It took you time to think about it. What did people call this…southern hospitality? She was sweet to you despite not really knowing you but the situation was still tit for tat. You do for me, I do for you. Wax on, Wax off. You weren’t gonna say no to a place to crash, where you didn’t have to worry about the faucet being broken or water barely coming out because the bill wasn’t paid. You were certain her bills were paid. 

“Yes, please…uh thank you!” You exclaimed as you began to dig through the box, taking out a bottle of water from your coat pocket, also stolen using it as a hand wash and something to clean the area, temporarily where the wound is. “doncha thank me just yet, you’re just getting started, peach.”

 Ellie was surprisingly still gentle with you, taking her time to crouch into the backseat of the car, while you sat next to her with the kit on the center console. Ellie took her time to untuck the white button-down shirt, as her hands shakily fiddled with the buttons. Due time, her snail speed started to irritate you making you smack her hands away doing it yourself. The exchange was silent, but you preferred it to keep the awkwardness at bay. Ellie shook off her white button down, leaving her in a white tank top — Ellie this time took the initiative to roll the tank top up to right below her boobs allowing you to wince at the large gash on her hip.

“Holy Sh—”

“I wouldn’t say that—”

“Not my first Rodeo” Ellie continued as you poured water on the wound making Ellie grit her teeth. Tilting her head back as whimpers left her mouth at the sudden coldness. All of it was hard to do when you’re in the back of a car trying to patch up a borderline dead woman. But before you could ask any questions, Ellie took the initiative to do it herself. 

“W-Where you headed, whats yer’ story?” Ellie grimaced through the pain as she held her head against the headrest, pants escaping her lips at an alarming rate. “God…I’m sorry,” You hesitated, you couldn’t even answer one simple question, your hands shaking at the blood that was covering your hands as it just wasn’t slowing down.

“Jeez– I hope a lil’ blood don’t scare you peach, I woulda done it myself baby,” Ellie hissed, trying to stay moderately sweet as she was now gripping onto the door handle, her right hand finding its way to your thigh, squeezing for the endless support. That’s when you noticed her tattoo, a death’s-head hawkmoth, and vines. Beautiful, yet chaotic, she had a story. Ellie squeezed again your thigh again making you look back at her. “Eyes up here baby [sorry] where [shit] ya’ from?” You couldn’t lie, the rifle at the back of her car taunting you. If she wanted to kill you she certainly would have done it by now. She wasn’t a threat, and she proved that in the store.

“I’m from Tennessee, I’ve been traveling on foot. I’m runnin’ away” You confessed as Ellie nodded her head in response, Your accent was slight, barely noticeable making more sense in Ellie’s head at why you struck her as different. Your beautiful brown skin glowing under the setting sun, you were a beauty to her. “Figured, how old?” Ellie questioned as you continued to stay frozen, eyes on her face to continue the conversation. “21” Ellie nodded again. 

“Thought so, 22” Ellie responded. There it was again, the tit for tat. 

“You seem like a good girl, far away from home aren’t cha. What’s wrong with yer family? Perhaps your mama?” Ellie tilted her head watching as your face transitioned from bliss and tranquility to fear and panic. She knew she struck a nerve, your mama was the problem. She didn’t wanna pressure you, hell it didn’t matter now. You were on your own, like a scared little lamb that has been deterred from its family. Possibly you were the black sheep, different from the rest. Ellie, once again, didn’t wanna pressure you. 

“You look like you need someone to take care of ya, don’t worry Peach I’ll take care of you” Ellie whispered, her voice all velvety like icing a chocolate cake. Smooth and sweet with care and caress. Ellie was unlike others you’ve met. Or any ex-lover you had. This time you weren’t afraid to let her in or take care of you. Hell you wanted that, you’ve been craving it for all years of your life while you had to do it for others. Maybe it was time someone exchanged the favor. The good karma bell rang in your ears, as a smile tugged at your lips.

“Make sure you cared for, if you let me” Ellie whispered some more, her hands this time traveling to your waist, giving a gentle squeeze, to which you could only hum in response. She was a charmer and knew all the right words to get you sunken in with her. Mama always said to not trust strangers, but why didn’t she feel like one? Her scent was intoxicating all you wanted to do was lean down and sink your pointed fangs into her shoulder, hearing her cry of satisfaction while she continued to call you Peach. Peach…Peach…Peach. You liked that name, no one called you that but considering that's what she handed you when you first spoke, it didn’t run as a surprise. 

Ellie squeezed, “Words, sweetness?”

“Yes” you squeaked, which probably sounded oddly sexual now that you thought about it. Unholy thoughts plague your brain at the sight of the Texas beauty in front of you. Realizing your task still was unfinished you got back to work. Hands working fast as you took your time, threading the suture thread through the needle as it came in contact with the flesh that was Ellie’s loose and separated skin.

Ellie wincing as you dug the needle in, and back out with an exhale. It was a semi-shitty stitching job, but you were able to tightly close the wound and stop the bleeding. Ellie didn’t speak, considering she’d risk completely yelling every curse word and potentially scaring you off, she settled on biting the hem of her tank top instead. Thick black lashes coated with tears at the sudden pain and blood crust. You were gentle though, Ellie caressing your waist as you put down a gauze pad, followed by wrapping it with the gauze roll and securing it with the adhesive tape. Patting to let her know that you were finished. 

“Yer’ such a good girl you know?” Ellie cooed as her hands found their way up to your braids, bringing your head down so she can give a chaste kiss to your head. Right…Right… Southern Hospitality. The feeling almost made you cry. Praise, followed up with affection? Like nothing you have felt before – hell you only thought they did that in movies. Ellie, however, was like a movie. Purley a fever dream, you were scared to fall asleep, what if you imagined the whole thing? You were enjoying your runaway escapades too much for it all to be fake. 

“Let’s get the show on the road,” Ellie gave a smile, making her way out of the back, suggesting that you do the same. So much for not trusting strangers.

✧˖°.

Father, Forgive me for I have sinned… it was blurry 

As we forgive our trespassers…still blurry

Trespassers…clear

You were a trespasser, is what you were getting from Ellie’s narration. Over the 30-minute car ride to her Farmhouse, Ellie explained to you the whole ordeal. Her cowboy hat was on your head as you listened to her tell narration of the cowboys' sealant for the townspeople. Why Tina, at the gas station tried to make you a friend. This Texan desert, farmland was constructed with the passage that cowboys and cowboy decedents protect the townspeople from narcs and trespassers, which in this case you could have been either. Debunked neither. It was one of those towns that people suggest you pass, hell probably inquire why it's still on the fucking map.

Ellie confessed that she was also a trespasser, just like you. Taken in by her late found father Joel who showed her how to run the rodeo. How Millers Ranch, became Williams Ranch. It was impressive, your eyes gleaming with admiration. Then it hit you, why she had the shotgun she did bounties on narcs, drug smugglers, the whole ordeal. People who came in to steal, wreak havoc, and destroy the peace. She was the town's grim reaper. She was the one who knocks. You felt faint, as the realization knocked into you like a brick. Nothing was truly sweet about her, that accent was to mask how with one click she’ll hunt like they were rabbits. You were trapped in her cage.

Upon arriving at her farmhouse which was large enough for more than one, it made you sad to see. She was alone, by herself. No wonder it was easy for her to drag you into her company, human interaction seemed obsolete out here. A dim light shown from what you assumed to be the horse stable, that was rather quiet as the nightfall had put you at ease. You held your jacket to your body tighter at the sudden gust of wind, hearing the weeds brush against each other — almost screaming in the wind. You held tightly onto your bag while Ellie limped past you, with the white button-down rested over one shoulder. Fiddling with the keys in her pocket. 

“Shoes off at the door, watch your step,” Ellie spoke up as she opened the door, you were hit with the sudden aroma, it smelled like fresh wood, pine, and just a hint of freshly baked cookies. It was how you pictured going to visit your grandmothers to be. Warm and welcoming. Complying with her wishes, you took your boots off, leaving you in mix-matched socks with funky designs that you have bought out of quirkiness. Ellie found this amusing. White ones to contrast your colors, the two of you had a lot of differences. But for the lack of similarities came an understanding. A mutual grounding between the two of you. A grey area. Ellie was behind you this time, taking her hat off your head, hooking it onto the wall, your thick jacket as well, and placing it on the hook beneath it. 

“Welcome, home” 

Now that made your stomach curl, you didn’t know what home is, besides yourself and your belongings. Attaching your home to people, not places. It was a wave of worry and fear that hit you. Your feet stuck as it felt like someone took a hammer and nailed your feed to the wooden floors. It was lively and well-decorated for someone that lived alone. Breaking free from your sinking feet you started to observe the living space. There was art, tones of it, stumbling across a photo in the bookcase of a much younger Ellie and an older man with salt and pepper hair who you had presumed to be Joel. The name fit his face well, A small smile creeping up to your face at the closeness of the two. Ellie seemed happy – carefree now that you look at her, that happiness seemed sucked away from her life, she didn’t smile quite like that anymore. Not until you cracked jokes in her car and made her laugh.

“Ya thirsty peach?” Ellie questioned her voice coming out muffled as her figure was far away in the kitchen area, hearing as the refrigerator closed. “I’m good, thank you though.” You put the photo back where you found it, following the trail of her voice. She was very trusting for a stranger, you were already infatuated with the woman, yearning for more. Yearning for her to give you a taste or perhaps a touch. Now you were sitting on her marble countertop, placed there by Ellie as she moved quickly around the kitchen pouring herself a glass of water from the glass pitcher, drowning it all in one go. She wiped the falling water around her mouth with the back of her arm eyeing you in the process, Ellie laughed. You knew her for a short amount of time, but long enough to know that laughter from her was rare – take it as a compliment, you thought. 

Ellie made her way over to you, her hands now on your knees, moving them further apart as she pushed her body in between her legs. Her arms resting on the counter space behind you,  trapping you in her arms.

“Mama didn’t teach you no good...to trust strangers? Oh…Babygirl you’re dangerous” Ellie scolded, laughing as you give the girl a doe-eyed look – your hands finding a  home on her arms. Wrapping your hands around her biceps, as your thumb move up, down, and in a circle. 

“I figured if you were gonna kill me, you already would have done so.” You mumbled as Ellie’s face got a lot closer to yours now. You can see the freckles that decorated her cheeks, her hydrated pink lips from the water she just had, the slit in her eyebrow, and her eyes. The piercing green forest that was her eyes, but it was beautiful, reminded you of the trees that you had seen when you walked. The storm that was your life, before Ellie became your superhero, the knight in shining armor. She saved you, and you owed her big time.

“Bingo! I know you smart peach, and that’s why imma tell you once, listen t’me real good.” Ellie specified, bringing one arm up to grip your chin gently, not allowing you to look anywhere else but herself. Ellie seemed possessive, maybe she lost too many people or her lack of social interaction but she didn’t want to let you go, and you could tell. She needed you just as much as you needed her, a packaged deal.

“You don’ trust nobody that ain’t me.” Ellie began, “Someone’s overly nice to ya’ you tell me. Mean? You fuckin’ tell me. Both don’t fly with me baby, if it ain't from me” Ellie finished, letting go of your jaw to which you nodded. Ellie was a fuckin’ force to be reckoned with, It was like digging into a mystery box, you were unsure of the flavors and layers she had to herself. Hell, she could be manipulating you and you wouldn’t even notice. Hospitality for comfort or comfort for hospitality, it all looked the same.

“Ay Ay, captain!” You playfully military saluted the girl, making Ellie roll her eyes at your statement, you were exceptionally fun. Which Ellie didn’t have anymore...fun. If you classify a night at Typsy Bison as fun then so be it. “You hungry? I can run you a shower before you eat – it’s leftovers if that's alright with yourself?” Ellie questioned and that’s when it hit you, you’ve been traveling afoot all day, and the thought of even having a meal slipped your mind, but you were famished, stomach lightly growling at the mention of the word food.

“I could use food, yeah — as long as there’s no cheese.” You challenge making Ellie back away this time as she took out a glass plate, a fork, and a knife. “No cheese sugar, but something to get you settled – I always have dessert peach if you want that instead?” Now you felt like a kid in a candy store. Dessert was a rarity and boy did it sound delightful right now. Ellie smiled as she watched the way your eyes gleamed at the mention of dessert.

“Got a sweet tooth huh?” Ellie smiled, making you laugh in return. You did have a sweet tooth, anything sweet was enough to bring a smile to your face. That’s why you had a love for canned peaches. The taste reminded you of peach pie that you would get at the diner as you worked a closing shift. Sitting at a booth as you devoured a piece of peach pie, it was heated, like a warm hug in the winter. You cried every time you had a piece. It reminded you of all the good things in life – like how good your mother could be. 

“I hope you have pie” you pleaded, making Ellie nod her head. “You aren’t pressin’ yer luck! I got an apple pie from a good friend of mine, I think you’ll love it – not too sweet, but fillin’” Ellie smirks in satisfaction as she placed one hand on her hip. 

“Let’s run’ya a shower” 

✧˖°.

How were you supposed to explain to Ellie why you were crying? Pajamas that you stored in your bag resting on your body as the matching white tank top and light blue shorts attached to your frame — you just had the best shower you’ve ever had in a while. Not only was the water hot, but it didn’t cut out every five minutes, and the faucet wasn’t leaking, everything was comfortable, perfect. Ellie herself took the time you were in the shower to clean up herself, now in different clothing —  a white t-shirt and plaid pajama pants that clung to her body nicely. The two of you sitting at the dining table as Ellie watched you eat the warmed pie, a tear fell from your eye with swiftness. Ellie’s gentle gaze transitioned into confusion and eventually fear as she watched you cry. 

“Oh god, wait!... I’m sorry” you laughed in between sniffles, taking the back of your hand to rub your face.

“Jeez, I thought I did somethin’ sugar” Ellie exaggerated holding her hand over her heart as if someone pierced an arrow through it. Now it was your turn to reveal your story, like how you cried every time you ate pie, specifically with peaches. It made Ellie give a small grin. Feeling as though she did something right in her life where she wasn’t playing god,  It was wholesome that’s for sure. The redhead found it odd, but it was a sweet moment and she understood it. Ellie’s smile fell when she noticed the clock behind your head striking 10:30pm making her frown. The good times she was having at the moment were coming to an end, for both her and yourself. 

“You go’n watch the tv til your tired, I have some business to take care of before tomorrow” Ellie didn’t wanna scare you, her business was taking the grey cloth, as she wiped down her guns and reloaded them for tomorrow. She didn’t want to give you the wrong impression.  

“Can you watch it with me?” You inquired, ignoring the part where she said she had business. 

“I’m cleaning guns.”

“So? You don’t scare me cowgirl” You wiggled your eyebrows as Ellie snatched the empty plate from your hands, placing it in the sink as she let the sponge soap up to wash the plate clean with hot water.

“Fine. I see you jump – I’m goin’ to another room, I don’t mix business with pleasure” Ellie confessed as she was less focused on you this time. You chose this time to leave the dining area, entering the living room as you hit the squared television's 'ON' button. It was small and run down, similar to the one at your moms before you left. You pulled at the antenna to catch a signal. The static glitching before on came Looney Tunes. You enjoyed the show finding amusement in the animals chasing each other and the crescendo of the music at all the right moments, it was comical and amusing. You spread your body out on the couch, laying on your side as you watched the television in silence, laughing every few minutes at something that you found funny. Ellie walked into the room with a black box and 3 guns in her hand. The redhead gently settled down the weaponry, being careful not to startle you, as she slipped into the seat on the far left — your legs now found a home in her lap, Ellie gently sending a rub at your legs. If someone walked right in, they would assume the two of you were probably married for some years now. 

“This okay?” Ellie whispered as you mumbled a “yes” while your focus was still not on her. Ellie could see that you were getting tired, the way your eyes were low, and your breathing slowed down. You were at peace with yourself and with Ellie, this was one of the times when the silence was okay, a mutual serenity, and understanding — everyone was mindful of each other and it was pure love and bliss.

Ellie eyed your figure as your eyes fluttered shut, this time you were sleeping, fully this time letting yourself melt into the softness of the couch as Ellie reached over to her left to grab the blanket and drape it over your sleeping figure. This was also the time she finally got started on cleaning her guns, knowing that you were relaxed and cared for. Ellie wasn’t sure what she was doing, She felt vulnerable and that was rare, but she was doing what she said she would. Taking care of you, like you were taking care of her. You saved her life, and she saved yours, tit for tat.

Ellie in this moment craved nothing more than your lips on hers, perhaps your teeth to graze her flesh, biting…hard into her – wanting to connect and morph bodies. She craved for your love and your intimacy, she wanted you to love her bones and all. Ellie wanted you to love her past, her insecurities, her mistakes, and her wrongs. You were too good for her, she knew it, but there was nothing a sweet peach like you couldn’t fix. 

[lambmotifz]

can you pls rec me some wincest feminization kink fics? thank u 🫶🫶

my forever-favorites!

it’s easy if you try [orphaned] (daddy kink, short but beautifully written)

i’ve built my life around you by kermiethefrog (pre-series, dark & angsty)

honeywater by weefaol (sam has a pussy and dean wants to fuck it.)

hell, michigan by weefaol (“not a girl, dean,” he growls, low and feral. “but you can fuck me like one.”)

love my way by shir_hashirim (dean’s mommy issues exploration fic ft. mommy!sam)

honeymoon [orphaned] (dean’s always wanted a wife. sam fits the bill perfectly.)

mommy dearest by tradwifesam (sam wants to play mommy and daddy. dean is into it. one of the hottest fics i’ve ever read, very in character + delicious dialogue)

[unoficialy-married-to-ace-austin]

Please make this into a fic au idea. A world where couples take on a third partner that is basically a stay at home spouse as a show of their wealth or success. This would either be with Becky and Seth or Brandi and Cody and it could easily be a Yandere sort of thing

Take Care Of You

Summary: In a desperate attempt to pay off your crushing debt you sign up for a new program that matches you with wealthy couples looking for a third.

An: this idea has been in my head since wrestlemania this year, and I’m planing on it being a multi chapter fic. People said they wanted this with Cody and Brandi, but I’d be willing to do versions with other wrestling couples(Seth and Becky, miz and maryse, Mox and Renne, Brit and Adam, etc)

Warnings: Yandere, Yandere!Cody and Brandi, sort of sexism but only to reader, they treat readers like she’s meant to be a homemaker but don’t think women in general should be, classism, controlling behavior, money abuse, they’re daughter Liberty is a baby in this, fem!reader, power imbalance

Taglist: @melissahausen @writtingrose @peachmango-kombucha @xkennyxomegax @fiskers7136 @bellalutionn @tummyyellin @thesusbunny

“God damnit…” you mumbled as you pulled yet another bill out of your small mailbox slot. It seemed like every time you checked your mail all you found were these stupid red envelopes telling you you needed to pay for something else.

You made your way up the two flights of stairs to your tiny one bedroom apartment, leaning back against the door to shut it. Your feet hurt from your 12 hour shift at the restaurant, you were sticky from spilling shit on yourself all day, and you desperately wanted to collapse in your bed before you have to be up on 5 hours for a shift at your second job of a local coffee shop, but you needed to shower first.

You walked over to the table, tossing your purse onto the couch and planing on tossing the bills into the already large pile of them, but stopped when you noticed another envelope you hadn’t read down in the lobby. A part of you wanted to ignore it, if it was another bill you could at least act like you didn’t see it, but it looked slightly different than the normal things you got. The envelope was a cream color and had a logo you didn’t recognize on it. The main thing you noticed about it was that your address and name and everything was handwritten.

You set the other stuff down and opened the envelope. Inside was a hand written letter.

Dear, Y/n L/n

Thank you so much for your interest in our program. After careful consideration we are delighted to inform you that you have been accepted! Please call the following number to schedule a consultation to begin the next steps.

Sincerely, Coast Connection Agency

Coast connection agency? You stared at the letter for a moment before it clicked in your head what exactly you were looking at. Months ago, probably 6 months ago, you had gone searching on the internet for any way to earn some extra money and you found this website. It was a new program, only a few years old and was extremely selective, but its purpose was to connect well off couples with a third partner. From what you read it was a bit like a sugar daddy/mommy situation, but the couples were…rich rich. The website said up front that NDA’s would be signed and that the relationship would be, on some level, a business deal.

If you were smart, you would have ignored the website completely. It was one of those ‘to good to be true’ things, or something you sign up for and end up on the news because you went missing, but you had been so desperate. You had just lost one of your jobs, behind on bills, house completely barren of food, and nothing but an overdraft fee in your account, so you took the chance and signed up. There had been application after application, most of it asking you about your financial issues and job history, you even had to take a personality test, and apparently you had done okay because you had made the cut.

At the bottom on the letter was a phone number, and with the letter was a pamphlet of reviews from others who had done it. Most of the reviews were positive, talking about how it helped them get out of debt and completely changed their way of life. One even claimed it helped him find his ‘soul mates’ and that he was so happy with the couple he was matched with. You didn’t necessarily believe in soulmates, and even if you did you highly doubted that they could be found in a relationship like this. But you couldn’t argue with the results, people seemed to be happy with what they got from the agency, maybe this was the step for you to take. You decided to call tomorrow after your shifts and pinned the paper to your fridge before slugging off to shower and finally get some sleep.

***************

“…and we have one final question for you, Ms. L/n,” the woman on the other end of the phone told you. You’d been on the call for three hours now, answering what felt like a hundred questions. When you’d called a week ago they had said you’d need to block out a large chunk of time for the phone interview, but you hadn’t expected it to be this long. You also were slightly surprised by the questions. They were all about your preferences in the relationship if they found you a couple. They asked about spending habits, restaurants you liked, if your drank, clothes you liked, brands you enjoyed, past relationships, what you would do in certain situations, if you’d be open to sex in the relationship, and everything else under the sun. You weren’t sure what you had been expecting but this wasn’t it.

“Okay,” you waited a moment for her to ask her question.

“Would you be willing to relocate for the relationship?”

You didn’t answer immediately, and your eyes drifted outside. You lived in a relatively small town, in one of the only apartment complexes they had. It was about three hours from where you grew up, and you had moved here for an old ex. The only reason you stayed was because it was too expensive to move again, leaving you feeling trapped in this town.

“…yes.”

“Wonderful! I think we have enough information to create a profile for you, and we will match you with a couple as soon as we can. Results will be emailed to you, but we always warn that the couple must approve the match before it’s sent to you and we cannot guarantee that a match will be made, so you understand?”

”yeah. I’m mean, yes, I understand,” you nodded though she couldn’t actually see you.

“Perfect. You have a wonderful rest of your day ma’am.”

“You too,” you said before the phone disconnected.

*************

You couldn’t believe it. You got a match.

After your interview you didn’t hear from anyone for two months, and you started to worry that you made a mistake. Luckily, they hadn’t taken any super personal info so you wouldn’t be completely screwed, but after the interview questions they knew a hell of a lot about you, which is what worried you. But one morning you happened to check your email and found one from the company.

Congratulations! You have been matched with a couple! Attached to the email is a photo and some basic information. If you would like to continue with the process please email back immediately.

You quickly opened the attachment and were met with a photo of what had to be the most picture perfect couple. It was a man and a woman, both dressed formally (it looked like they were at some sort of dinner party.) The man had bleached blond hair and what looked like a tattoo on his neck, though his head was turned in just a way that you couldn’t quite see it. The woman looked like the pinnacle of beauty. Her hair and make up was perfect, and her eyes had a shine on them that made them look like pools of honey.

You weren’t really sure how long you stared at the photo, it was so mesmerizing. They were both very athletic looking, muscles evident on both making you think they must do something in the health industry. It was also evident that they had quite a bit of money. From the clothing to the accessories and the food on the table in front of them, it all screamed luxury. You hadn’t worked at a lot of fancy restaurants but the meal in front of them probably cost more than your paycheck.

Next, you moved onto the written information. There wasn’t a tone, just a few snippets of their life and what they wanted out of the relationship. They were from Atlanta Georgia and want someone willing to come live there. They had a daughter, but no info about her was there. They are looking for someone who would take on house hold responsibilities and have a sexual relationship with both of them. You’d never thought of yourself as a homemaker, and children never felt like something that was on the table for you, but you didn’t hate the idea. And honestly, the idea that these two very attractive people had chosen you was a bit of an ego booster. You were good enough to get their attention.

You read over everything one more time before deciding to go for it. You typed up an email and sent it before you could chicken out. You had said you were interested in moving forward and at least meeting the couple. At the very bottom of the email they sent you was the names of the couple. Brandi and Cody Rhodes.

*****************

Unknown: hello

You frowned down at the message as you walked out of your shift for the night. You’d closed so you hadn’t had a chance to check your phone for a while, the message was sent hours ago.

Um, hello? Who is this?

You were shocked when the person responded almost immediately.

Unknown: sorry, should have introduced myself. It’s Cody, from the website. We got the green light to reach out to you

You stared at the message, shocked for a moment. It was him, the cute guy from the email. He was texting you, right now. You were stood still on the sidewalk when three little dots popped up as he continued to type.

Unknown: this is y/n l/n, right?

oh! Yes, it is. Sorry I didn’t answer sooner, I just finished my shift

You panicked slightly at the fact that you hadn’t responded sooner. What if he thought you weren’t serious about what was happening? If he thought you were rude and didn’t want to talk to you any more? Rich people can be so hard to predict when it comes to what will or won’t offend them.

Unknown: oh, are you heading home? We could talk when you get back home, I don’t want to keep you out longer than you need to be.

You sent a last message saying it’d take not be about 10 minutes before booking it home. You didn’t have a car and your town didn’t really have public transportation, the best was a bus that stopped rides at 5pm, so that meant you were basically running back to your apartment. Once you got there you were quickly getting up to yours and pulling your phone out again to add the number as a contact.

You: Okay. Im Home

Cody: good to know you made it back safely.

Cody: I have my wife Brandi here too. We wanted to get a conversation started since you said you were interested

You’re nervous we’re going crazy as you read over the messages. It’s seemed so weird, you were talking to some rich couple you’d never met before but they wanted to pay for you to live. Not only that, but also have a relationship with you. You almost felt… dirty when you thought about it.

You: it’s nice to meet you both

Cody: we’d like to cut to the chase, we are looking to get into something slightly quickly. We don’t want to rush you at all but we’d like to meet as soon as possible

You hesitated at his message. Should that be a red flag? They want to meet even though this is the first time you’ve ever spoken.

Cody: We’d be willing to pay for you to come out to Atlanta to meet. We’d pay for everything like the flight, hotel, food, even whatever you’d be missing out on from work.

You: I don’t want to seem rude or anything, but this is the first time we’ve ever spoken

When he didn’t respond immediately your heart sank. You shouldn’t have said that, god, why were you so stupid?

Cody: we understand your hesitation, we’ve just have been looking for a while

Cody: would you like to FaceTime? Then you could at least see that we’re who we say we are

You: um, sure. Just a warning, I’m a mess. I just got off shift.

Only seconds later the call for the video chat popped up on your phone. You took a second to take a deep breath and then pushed accept.

The man from the original photo you’d been set popped up on the screen. He was sat back on a couch wearing a sweats and a teeshirt, and next to him was the woman who was dressed similarly. After a second both smiled at you.

“Hi,” Cody greeted.

“Hi…” you gave a nervous wave which you immediately regretted. God, why were you being so awkward?

“You look pretty good for just getting off a shift.” You blushed slightly at his words and watched as his wife smacked him gently.

“Ignore him, he’s a flirt,” Brandi told you. “He doesn’t think about the fact that this may be awkward for you.”

You laughed slightly nervously but gave a little smile. The rest of the conversation got a little less awkward as you got to know each other. Most of the conversation was about you, them asking what you did full time and what you spent your free time doing. They were…nice, and they clearly loved each other in the way that they interacted.

“So, we’d really like to meet you in person.” Brandi finally said. “Like Cody told you we can pay for your whole trip and we can start to get to know each other better.”

“I don’t know, I don’t want to take your money if we don’t even know if it’s gonna work.” You admitted.

“It’s really not that much to pay for a trip, and it would be no strings attached. You could decide to not do anything and we won’t be angry.” Cody assured you. “We just think it would be important for us to talk in person. We travel for work but will be home for the week next week, we’d like to do it then.”

You bit your lip as you thought about the offer. You felt a little guilty about taking money, but a part of you loved the idea of being able to take a week of work and go on a trip without being worried about bills.

“Um… okay.”

Both of them smiled at your answer. “Perfect. We’ll get everything lined up and payed for!” Brandi excitedly said. “Do you have any preferences on what hotel you stay in or what airline you take?”

You shook your head. “It’s your money, it’s up to you.”

“Okay, we can talk about it more tomorrow, I assume you’re tired after your shift.”

You all said goodbye before hanging up and getting ready to go to sleep. As you brushed your teeth you realized that you felt slightly giddy after the conversation. It was like a school girl crush, they were nice and you felt good talking to them.

As you got into bed your phone pinned and you reached over to check it. It showed a notification from PayPal, someone had sent you $200 and you had a message from Cody.

Cody: enjoy a day off sometime

[lonelygodscompanion]

Doctor Who and mommy issues

it is little of an exaggeration to state that the first RTD era was built around the female companions' tumultuous relationships with their mothers. Jackie Tyler missing Rose but trying to accept her decisions and the new person in her life who comes with them, Francine Jones' struggle to keep her family together and safe when her daughter's seemingly drifting away from her, Sylvia Noble's harsh words towards the daughter who already hears insults from enough other places. then there's Amy's mum Tabetha, who disappears from the universe and leaves Amy with a hole in her life- eerily similar to what happens to her own daughter, Melody Pond. and River and Amy's mother-daughter connection is a whole thing by itself. there's Clara, who lost her mum and constructs stories out of it. and as Clara saves the day by imagining the days she could've had with her deceased mum, so Bill saves the day by remembering the days she had with hers.

and now there's Ruby. Ruby, who has for so long just wanted to find her mum, because her mum is the one who left her on that church doorstep, because her mum is the key to who Ruby is, where she's from, Ruby, who tells the doctor they are gonna go spend christmas with her mother and takes them to Carla and Cherry Sunday, them the three queens of the sky, Ruby who has an adoring mother who she keeps being separated from in timelines that end up abandoned. an abandoned adopted child. mother-daughter relationships defined by absence.

[mother-ofthe-universedraws]

So you said Bill in Simon’s body can remember being Bull for up to 6 months, what was that like for him? It’s like inevitable countdown to where he couldn’t really considered being himself anymore, but he’s also himself. I just wanna know his thought process during this, not to mention his shock at being Stanley Pines’ child.

He’s got a love-hate relationship with it. Babies are kinda useless when it comes to their ability to do anything, but he does take a lot of pleasure in the fact that all he has to do is scream and Stan will give him anything he wants.

Spoilers for the Book Of Bill, btw;

The idea is that Bill was reincarnated as Simon as a form of exposure therapy; he’s been in the theraprism for centuries by the time this happens, and while he’s been getting better, or at least getting to a point where he’s actively accepting help and trying to change, he still has a lot of unsolved emotional baggage that mostly revolves around his mommy and daddy issues. His parents weren’t great people; while his mum seems to be better than his dad, she still seems problematic. The general vibe that I’ve been picking up from them is that their love for him was very conditional; they wanted him to fit in with the rest of Euclydia to Bill’s own detriment. And even after spending centuries in the theraprism, the damage this did to Bill is still ever-present. Hence the idea of exposure therapy; they’re gonna expose him to unconditional love from a parent.

That’s where Stan comes in; the guy cares about others to the detriment of himself, and never expects someone to change their flavor of weird for anything. What one might consider freakish, he considers special, and all he ever really ask for from other people is for them to care about him too, even if it’s just a little bit. Not to mention the empathy aspect; he knows what it’s like to be unwanted by his own family. He’s kind of perfect for the role of the Good Dad, not to mention that Stan really needed someone in his life who loves him the way Simon does; someone to keep him from being as lonely as he was all his life; Stan needs Simon as much as Simon needs Stan.

Forgetting who he was and becoming an entirely new person is a painful process, but it wasn’t like Bill went into this process unknowingly. He was offered something that could help him, but warned that said help involved reincarnation. He knew the rules and how everything worked when he went into it, but decided that he might as well give this idea a shot, at least for the sake of curiosity than for no other reason. He didn’t know all the details going in, but he knew enough to know that whatever he was doing, it would involve his soul being wiped clean and an entire new life being grown from the ashes. But, by that time he’d been in the prism long enough that he was willing to accept help and try out different methods of getting better.

Simon and Bill are not the same person, but they’re cut from the same cloth. Their personalities and base instincts are extremely similar, as are their interest and quirks.

Being born to Stan is the major shocker, and Bill isn’t very happy about it. He still doesn’t like the guy, even if the intense and bitter hatred has calmed down over time. Bill does have fun “tormenting” Stan just a little as a newborn; he’d scream as often as he could out of spite, and tried his absolute best to keep Stan from getting a full nights sleep. And he does find it rather amusing that all he has to do is scream a bunch and Stan will basically be at his beck and call. He considers it a small amount of payback for the whole “killing him” thing.

He does warm up to the idea of Stan as his father over time. It’s kinda hard not to when the guy’s constantly holding you and giving you attention and love. By the time his days of being Bill are practically over, he’s pretty ok with the idea that this guy is gonna be his dad from now on. Hell, he even has an inkling of faith in the guy; he might consider Stan a failure at absolutely everything, but even he’s gotta admit that Stan’s really good at loving his family. That baby is Stan’s whole world, and even Bill can find some manner of comfort in that fact.

Sorry to go all essay on ya lol. This is something I’ve thought about a lot!

[freshlyrage]

Running Like Water

Chapter 29

pairing: Javier Peña x OFC (written as xReader)

fic warnings: NSFW Explicit Smut (18+ MDNI) language, strained family relationships, mentions of drug abuse, discussions of insecurities and body image issues, daddy and mommy issues

fic tags: Best friends younger sister, Life-long crush, Friends to lovers, Unrequited love, slow burn, Push and Pull, Small Town Dynamics, Secret Relationships, latina MC, Fluff and Angst, OFC!Jessica Alba face claim, sorry Lorraine I'm bringing you into this, Time jumps, 2 year age gap, pre-canon

word count: 6.1k

IMPORTANT a/n: Hello! She's here....

I suggest reading The Holiday chapter I posted this Christmas, before this one.

I hope you enjoy. HEHEHE

December 1989

Javier’s uncle died very suddenly. 

Escobar didn’t. Javier swears he has spent twenty years of his life in Colombia. Tainted by death, sex and drugs. What is the point of anything when you’ve become desensitized to tragedy? Time slows each time. He can't keep count of how many hours he has spent outside of various buildings just waiting for medics to roll out the victims. Hours he spent, cigarette in hand just talking about what's next while bodies are wheeled away. Days spent in bed with women racking his bills sky high. Just because sometimes he can't come home to a bed empty.

 He had enough, he broke protocol and he knew that the hammer was to come down on him. He knew that the DEA was just as twisted, a fearful institution that only cared about profit. Because if there are no more cartels, there is no more DEA. The only goal was to kill the big man, capo, whatever you may have. Make the Americans proud, we did that. We killed The Drug Pin. But the cartel doesn’t just die with its leader but that's it, to the DEA, the performance is over and it's time to move on. Send them all home, leave the country in shambles. So fuck it, Javier was tired of being congratulated when he just felt like a bad guy. 

He knew the government, his organization, were aware of its corruption. There hadn't been a care. 

The rest of the guys were being reassigned and they asked him to resign quietly. After all he did for them. Bled himself dry. And all it took was for him announcing his disappointment for them to threaten being fired, tarnishing his reputation. 

Or of course, leave quietly and tell his colleagues he was just ready to settle down. 

Escobar and George Peña died on the same day. Javier wasn’t home for 3 days, he missed all the frantic calls from his father. On the third day he was asked to resign quietly. 

He went home, slept and drank. Skipped a session with Dr. Hertz. Ignored the phone calls that came in. Stared at the resignation form on his coffee table. Buried himself in a different cunt each night. 

Until he signed, packed his home and picked up the phone. 

Chucho Peña was one of 2 children. He was the baby, his brother was twelve when he came into the world. It was a rough age gap. They weren't always very close. George was around for the big milestones: Chucho's wedding, Javier’s birth, a few birthdays and there for his brother when his wife left. But mostly, George spent his time in his high rise apartment in Houston. It's where Javier lived for a year at age 15. When he wanted to be a cop, when Chucho took a chance and paid an ungodly amount for The School of Law and Order. 

George had just entered remission. He was diagnosed with melanoma a year prior, it wasn’t life threatening but still scary. Javier made sure he took his medication on time. 

He didn’t, he got sick again, how could he know? 

He finally called home and he was already buried. His father had to do it alone. 

That's when Javier decided to see Dr. Hertz again.

“Will you be continuing sessions back home?” Dr. Hertz had a furrow in her brow since the beginning of the session. Since told her about the resignation, about the death, about how fucking stressful it is to pack. He wonders if she’ll miss him.

“Are you still married?” He uncrosses his legs and ashes his cigarette on the tray next to his seat. Dr. Hertz has dealt with him for nearly three years. She just waves off his flirtation, she calls it a defense mechanism. An attempt to change the topic, ease the waters with something he’s good at. She’s immune to his ways. 

She laughs, “Yes. I am. Will you? Continue, therapy I mean.” 

“Happily?” Javier tilts his head. Dr. Hertz doesn’t entertain him any longer. He chuckles, “Sorry. I’m not sure. I don’t think I want to tell my story all over again to another person. Or professional I guess. Sounds fucking exhausting.” 

She nods, lips in  a fine line like she’s holding back. Javier sighs in annoyance knowing that face well. “Just say it Hertz.”

“Well,” She closes her notebook and he knows he’s in for it. “I think that you have made significant progress in dealing with your past. With your mother, with Andrea, with Lorraine. But life won't stop hurting you just because you worked some things out. And I know you. Very well. I know that the second you go home you’ll be contacting her.”

“Doctor I-”

“Nope. You know that's the truth. You might go home and she might be married, or pregnant or maybe you’ll come home and she’ll want you again. All of those realities come with struggle, and with change, and growth. You are capable, and very emotionally intelligent for a man your age so I’m not saying this to coddle you. But you should continue therapy, in any form. We all need to be heard. I don't care if it's bi-monthly. Or on and off for a few years. If everyone had a therapist we all wouldn’t have such a hard time handling the ups and downs of life.” She crosses her legs and locks eyes with him. “But, do what you believe is best for you. I will miss having you as my patient.”

His eyes fall to his shoes because fuck. “You’re right. I’ll probably need a shrink for the rest of my life simply based on all the dead bodies I've seen before the age of thirty.” He chuckles but she doesn’t reciprocate. She just opens her book again and goes right back into what she does best. Getting him to talk. 

“Talk to me about the resignation.”

“It’s like cancer. This fucked up institution. You know, my uncle George had melanoma at first. There on his skin,” Javier points to his elbow. “On the surface, and yes it made him sick. They removed it, and made him go through that radiation therapy. And the solution was a good one for a few years, but until it wasn’t. He was more susceptible to other cancers and years went by, and it was just everywhere. His blood, his colon. Topical solutions just don’t work like that. The sickness was systemic.” He leans back into his chair, legs spread. He hoped he wasn’t in pain. “Me, Murphy…” He pauses and thinks of the casket. “Carillo… we can’t be the medication. We don’t work. We haven’t worked. I’m aware, and I couldn’t be quiet about it. So whatever, I’ll take their hush money.” It was a lot. He can start working on the house he always said he’d build on the ranch this spring. He could have months of relaxation. Maybe get a degree, something.  “I’m a part of the problem too I guess.”

“You’re human. You deserve to breathe. We worked together for a long time and you still haven’t learned how to give yourself grace”

It was what he needed to hear. She has said it a million times but today it stuck. 

He’ll be home for the holidays.

“Are you in the right headspace to see your mom?”

“Is anyone ever in the right headspace to see their parents?” 

You sit on the floor of your bedroom, folding clothes. Honestly, you haven't spent a Christmas at home in years. You had no intention of heading back to Laredo until spring break. But you heard about the passing of George Peña. You hadn’t known the man but you knew that many of the Peña holidays were spent up at his home. It won’t be that way anymore and you’d love to visit him for this holiday. Bring him a gift, be there for him how he’s been there for you. 

Of course, you’ll go home. Your bedroom has a new bed for guests, so says your mother. You’ll see if maybe she’s interested in spending time with you. You don’t even think you’re going to try. You’re still curious if maybe she will.

Jaya walks to your calendar. “So you’ll be back… January 3rd?”

“Mhm.” You stretch out your leg with a wince. You had the nastiest scrape on your knee from this morning. You knew it’ll dry and crust by the time you get to Texas. 

In a rush to catch the subway today you tripped on the last stair and split right through your tights. You tried not to cry when you settled into the cart with blood trickling down your stocking. 

Jaya, who was already preparing her house sitting duties, placed cream on the scrape. 

She offered to stay at your place while you go back to Texas. Which means liberal use of her spare key to your apartment even before you leave. Crashing at your place after drinks with her boyfriend in your neighborhood. Or just showing up. But hey, she’s your best friend and she’ll be watching your birds for free. 

“I took two extra days off. Mr.Fyre will be covering for me.” You side eye her in anticipation for her questions. She smirks at you with a head shake. 

She rolls over in your bed, “That poor man. His dick still big?” 

You blush, “Yes. Too bad he finishes after ten seconds. Last week he was fucking me right there.” You point to the dresser and Jaya widens her eyes. “And he came the second he put it in. It was kind of hot. He fingered me afterwards so I forgave him.”

Mr. Fyre, Gregory Fyre. The hot new 24 year old substitute that you’ve been sleeping with for two weeks. He came in right after you cut it off with Christian. He walked in that teachers lounge and asked you to stop talking so loudly. The two of you ended up making out in the parking lot. 

He had you there on the dresser, knuckle deep in your cunt. While you tense your stomach and picture another face in front of yours. Gushing on his palms in ten seconds. 

Yeah. You’re fucked. 

At the very least he’s a man who can take a hint. So it’s been fun and easy. Easy to get off and you know, bye, get off now. 

“Your sex life is so interesting. Did he question why you were moaning the name Javier?”

You giggle tossing your panties at her. She catches it and twirls it on her finger before flinging it back at you. “That was one time, many months ago with Christian.” You cringe, “So it does not count.” 

Jaya sits up again, her face changing slightly. Here brows knitting and her eyes scanning the room. The habit of no eye contact that comes before she says something you don’t want to hear. Which happens more than you’d expect. She kept it real. You tilt your head at her gesture. “What if he’s there this time?” 

Brows lifting slightly you look back down at the dress in your lap and you continue to fold. You shrug. “He hasn’t been there every other time so-“

“You would purposely go home on random days of the year. It’s Christmas, Escobar's dead and you told me his uncle just passed.”

You frown at the realization. Washed over with reality. You know he hasn’t come home at all yet, you’re sure his job just doesn’t stop because Escobar is gone. But if it was anytime to visit , it would be now. You don’t respond and just place the dress in the luggage. “Will you be okay to see him?” 

“Yes?” She gives you a crazy glance and you can't even convince yourself.

“No. I don’t know. I'm not like angry at him because somehow his decision was a good one. I feel like… if he asked me to see him that day I would have never left town. Which by the way, has been the best decision ever.” You smiled at her and she smiled back. 

“So there’s no hard feelings.” She says it like it's bad. 

You know exactly why it could be a disaster. It's impossibly difficult to be angry at a person that could die at any moment in their line of work.

She continues to read you like a book. 

“It would be extremely easy to fall back into him when the only emotion you feel is sadness and longing.” You nod because she was always right. It would be so easy. So easy to find comfort in each other. So easy to see him and-“Whatever you do just promise me you won’t forget about your life here.”

You narrow your eyes and extend a pinky to her. 

She leans over the bed and you interlink. Sun peaks through your window and warms the two of you.

It’s the same sun. 

He knows it. 

It's the same. He knows you sit and feel it too. He can see you, looking outside the fire escape of your apartment. The sun offers you warmth in thirty degree weather. He does the same except it isn't so cold. It’s warm all around, hot even. He shares a sun with you and still feels like it's different. He misses you so badly that the thought of being warmed by the same star offers him a comfort beyond comprehension. 

Look where life has taken us. 

Javier is at the steps of the place he called home for a few years. All his belongings already ahead of him, delivered at the footstep of his fathers ranch. 

In less than a day, he’ll be dropped there just the same. Murphy has come to see him before he goes and they’ve been in a comfortable silence for a few minutes. Javier clears his throat, afraid to reveal himself. He was an open wound, a live wire. Afraid to come home and not see you. Even more terrified to come home and see you. 

“You tell Connie?” He asks. Murphy sniffles, holding his fists together. 

“That you're leaving?”

Javi nods, “Yeah.”

Murphy exhales, “Yes. She said it was the right choice. Then told me to break the rules so I could come back too.” He laughs a hearty one and Javier follows, rubbing his chin. It was professional, sure, but Steve and Connie became like family during his years. They were older, had their shit together, they were making it work. Connie could read Javi. She was the reason he decided to just go to see someone. “Maybe I should. Olivia can walk now. Can you believe that?”

Javier purses his lips with an exhale. “Jesus.” What he wouldn't give to have a family with you. He’d leave it all, all over again at least. He’d ruin his name, leave in the most dishonorable way if it meant coming back to you and his baby. It's silent again and it's too late. His thoughts betray him. You're all he can think about. You hated the holidays with your family. There was no way you’d choose to just come home now. 

The silence rang loud. Loud enough for Steve to hear his thoughts. 

“You’ve got to talk to that girl. Don’t waste anymore time.”

“She wont want to.”

“How do you know that?”

“Because she's stubborn. Because I abandoned her when that's all she knew.”

Murphy shook his head , tapping his knuckle on the step between his legs in frustration and turned to Javi. “But you didn't. You let her go. You needed to. She needed to heal in her own way. You needed help, you fucking got it.” Murphy’s lips twitch. “And listen man, I know we made that pact two years ago. If you go, I go. When it came to therapy, I stopped going to that shit after 2 months.”

Javi’s jaw drops, brows furrowing. He was almost there, on the verge of tears but there Murphy goes. Making him laugh. “What?”

“Yup. And I’ve been lying to you because I saw something in you change-”

“You fucking asshole.”

“You’re fucking welcome Agent Peña.”

Javi scoffs with a chuckle and reaches in his pocket for his pack. “Yeah whatever.” 

“Yeah yeah. If all the stories you told me about that girl are true, there is no way she isn’t waiting for you.” 

“I didn’t wait.” There it is, that guilt he felt for years. The guilt he felt after finding pleasure with others. The stomach churning pain that came with being forehead to forehead, breathless, coming down, and opening his eyes and seeing a face unfamiliar.

Murphy shakes his head. “I didn’t mean it that way. None of that matters.”

A beep has the two flinching. Looking up at the taxi. Javier's heart is suddenly loud enough to ring his ears. The two stand to their feet and hug. Tightly, a brotherly hold he isn;t used to but welcomes. “Sorry If I was ever-”

Murphy shakes his head, “Don't worry about all of that. Make sure you check in on my girls.” They part and Javier nods like it's his duty. “And you know. Be kinder to yourself and just…” He pats his shoulder, “Just reach out to that fucking girl.” Javier feels the pat like a push, like a shove. 

Then he goes on his way, thinking of you like he does.

Melissa Diaz knows that it’s too late and frankly she feels like she’s too old to repair her relationship with her daughter. Each time you come home there's a thick air of discomfort. Like you're a stranger in your childhood home. Each conversation is laced with the unspoken toxicity that is your relationship with your mother. Too many years of hurt just to speak comfortably. 

Which is precisely why you decide to get a hotel room this time around. 

You unpack what you can, glancing at the clock to figure out if you have time to shave before driving to your moms. You promised to help her bring the gifts to Chucho’s house tonight. You had only flown in 5 hours ago. You decided those 5 hours were for your own mental preparation. 

The truth is, when you remove yourself from a toxic environment the second you get back you realize that your tolerance is close to none. So you decide to not only stay away but also give yourself time to brace yourself so you don’t ruin Christmas. 

And this Christmas was different. It was for Don Chucho. You knew that he’ll be over the moon to see you. Thrilled to have the kids running around his house. Javier always said that Chucho would have had 10 children if life hadn’t gotten in the way. He loved the holidays but now that his only family is gone, you knew you had to be here. You had an hour so you scurry to the bathroom and shave, wash the New York off of you and step out a true Texas girl. 

Black sweater dress and stockings rubbing against your split open knee. Chanting, fuck, fucking fuck, fucker, fuck when rolling the thing on. Spritzing yourself in the orange blossom of Night Musk by Prince Matchabelli. Feeling strangely anxious to spend the holidays back home. There was a sense of excitement to see your siblings and niece. Excitement to watch the kids open gifts, yet splitting nerves at the thought of being back on the Peña ranch. 

Excited to drink Coquito, listen to Hector Lavoe, dance and eat. 

You grab your purse, grab the sack containing all the gifts you accumulated for your family over the month and head out to your car. 

You get to your mothers house in fifteen short minutes, not even given time to get into the house and say hello before she’s out on the steps very frantic. Cursing in Spanish about Sol staining her dress. James, not taking anything seriously as always, unloading the Christmas gifts into the trunk of your rental and kissing your cheek welcoming you back home. You hardly had a relationship with your mothers husband, sometimes you wondered how a dynamic like theirs worked. He was a reserved, ultra-relaxed and goofy guy. Your mother, a tornado of frantic emotions and anxiety. It seems he was never phased by all of it. Maybe a part of you envied it. Envied being loved enough to be accepted. 

Your four year old sister seemingly unphased as well by Melissa’s tirade while she’s on her knees at the doorstep wiping ice cream from her red dress. Sol zeroed in on you, waiting for her mother to quit the distressed cleaning so she could run to hug you. Her knees buckling and moving from side to side in anticipation. “Stop all the moving.”

“But it’s my sister!” She whines and you smile at her with arms crossed at the side of your rental. Your mother sighed and let her free. She patters against the driveway in tiny black flats and into your arms.

Disfunction and all, you head to Chucho’s house. Sleigh Ride by The Ronettes ringing loud on the local station. Not a flake on the ground, fifty degree weather, Frankie’s car trailing behind, homes and picket fences littered in green and red.

 Christmas in Laredo was in full swing. 

The moment you notice that Don Chucho’s driveway was full you begin to panic. 

The second you park, Genie crowds your car. Little Annie’s face squished against her mothers shoulder. Asleep already. You hop out of the car and pull her into a hug that stirs the baby. “Sorry!” You whisper, a December breeze causing a rise of hair. Your brother joining in on the hug. 

“Merry Christmas.” He whispers, kissing your cheek and his daughters who stirs again. A little girl, too big to be carried but he grabs her anyway. Spoiled little thing. “All of Chucho’s friends are here already apparently. The whole town is in there.” He laughs and you furrow your brows.

“Amazing.” You deadpan. Of course, what could you expect from a Christmas Eve in your hometown. A place where everybody's family is yours even if they don’t like you. You nod and look around to see if everyone is ready to head in, hoping they weren’t so you could breathe. But when you look up you see James picking up Sol and heading toward the house you knew you were running out of time. Frankie’s gaze is burning and he’s reading your body language like a book. How much has changed between the two of you. It took a marriage and a baby to understand you. You'll take what you can get because when he places his hand on your arm you feel the surge of courage.

Genie comes to your other side and you follow your mothers footsteps. 

Despite the Chucho house being a second home to your family, your mother still knocks. Even when the holiday music is so loud it bleeds through the windows covered in Christmas gel clings. She knocks politely, of course. Then pounds after a few seconds of silence. Making her fiance snort and Sol giggle. 

The door swings open, meeting a smiling Chucho whose eye’s haven't landed on you. “Que bueno! Feliz Navidad.” He brings your mother into a hug, then James, and tickles Sol. His eyes then fall to yours and he takes a step back. His brows furrowed for a moment and you wonder if he knows something you don’t. But then he smiles and pulls you into a hug at the doorway of his home. “Andrea, wow. I’m so– when did you get here?” His hold is tight and he smells like he’s been in the kitchen all day. He smells faintly of Javier. 

A smell you thought you forgot until you were hit so rudely with it. It creates a pit in your stomach that you know you can’t shake. He’s excited you can tell but his body language isn’t what you expected. 

“We're going to settle the girls in.” Frankie holds your shoulder for a moment and your family leaves you in the hall. You hear them in the next room giving excited hellos and cheek kisses. Giving you privacy in a crowded room. Still, with a face of worry, anticipating your response. 

“I flew in this morning. You know it’s the holidays.” Which meant nothing, considering you hadn’t stayed for Christmas in the past two years. You smile weakly, afraid of his reaction. Eyes shifting across your face and he lifts an arm to hold your own. Like he’s bracing you. 

His hat casts a shadow on his face in this dimly lit hallway. Behind his head is that god awful picture of you in your cap and gown. Surrounding it are baby pictures of Javier, Frankie and Genie at their wedding, images of his brother and Javier straight faced in police attire. “I didn’t know you were coming– I was going to call to tell you–”

“Papi, was it fifteen minutes for the artichoke?” 

You and Chucho both snap your heads at him. Your brain short circuiting. Chucho letting out a sigh and you so desperately want to let out a sob. Your chest rises and he’s staring at you with stars in his eyes. Fork in hand, hair overgrown and a Kiss The Cook apron. 

You gaze at Javier Peña after three difficult years. Three years of concern, of healing, of yearning. Of–of, fuck you can’t think. He’s here. He’s here and all you want to do is hug him. Wrap your arms around him and melt into one. 

But he’s there in between the cased opening of the kitchen and the living room. Stealing the attention of your family that havent seen him in just as long. Still, his brows furrow and he takes a step forward. “Andrea.” He doesn’t say it like a question, he says it like it’s been on the tip of his tongue for years. 

“Javi!” Your brother shouts from the living room and runs straight into him. Taking the attention from your body while it floats somewhere unknown. Genie follows, and your mother. Hugging, and kissing and questioning and shoving babies in his face. Still you stare and he looks over his shoulder at you and his father at the doorway. There, you float, unable to feel, zero gravity. Soaring with your feet on the ground and your heart pounds so loud you feel it in your ears. 

Chucho looks back at you. “He came home today too. If I knew-”

You frown, absolutely turning down whatever blame he must be putting on himself. “No-no. Please, it’s okay.” You wonder if other fragile things would like to be treated with less care. You suck in a sharp breath and nod. “I’ll– I just need a moment.” Your jaw clenches trying to prevent your emotions from steam rolling your logic.

Your emotions that tell you to cry and run into his arms. Or your logic that tells you to take a step back to remember the speech you practiced if you ever saw him again. You swallow and look up at him again and turn away. 

Javier watched you open the front door and walk out. His heart sinking, he wanted to fall to his knees and beg you to look at him for just more than three seconds. He tunes out the questions from everyone he loves. He’ll feel bad about it tomorrow. He looks up Genie who noticed his fixation on the front door you just stepped out of and she presses her lips together and tilts her head toward the door. 

Javier takes the olive branch. He just needs to talk to you. Even if you tell him to go fuck yourself or slap him, or spit in his face. He’ll invite it in. Accept it. Accept anything if it’s coming from your dear hands or delicate mouth. You rot him from the inside out, spoiled love for him. He can’t love anyone else. So it’s worth a try. 

He steps away from the chattering circle with a murmur of, one second, and he walks out of the house. 

The brisk December air cools his cheeks instantly. Christmas time is strange. Its the only holiday that has a distinct feeling. A feeling of stress, comfort, and emptiness only served with a red bow and yellow lights. He expects to find you right on the porch but you're at the bottom of the stairs. Arm supporting your elbow while you bite your thumbnail nervously. The string lights on the porch roof illuminating your beautifully made up face, and the tears that came with it. 

Javier stands at the top, afraid to speak. Twirling the stupid fucking fork in his hand. Feeling like an idiot in his outfit. I would have dressed nicer if I knew you’d be here. You look just as beautiful, different, but still. Your natural curls framing your face, black dress high up on your neck and stockings connecting to black boots. Please speak to me. 

You wipe your tears and turn your chin up. Strong girl. Arms crossed, you begin your interrogation, 5 steps between you. “How are you home?” Not a quiver in your voice.

He fights the urge to just ignore your question and run down those stairs and kiss you, wipe your tears, take you away. But he decided to stop being selfish years ago so he answers. “I resigned two weeks ago. I’m back home indefinitely.” He clears his throat. “Forever- I’m back here forever- I mean.” He rasps and you don’t hide your shock. Still you hold composure, eyes gaping a bit but shrinking in an emotion he can't read. Your brows furrow. 

Licking your lips, “Your turn.”

Javier’s brows knit closely, “My turn–?”

“Your turn.” Gesturing for him to continue. “You ask a question.”

“Andrea– can we please-”

“No- This is how I want to do it. So we can fucking get back inside and enjoy Christmas.”

Don’t you know I can't seem to enjoy anything if you aren’t mine? 

“Are you single?” It’s his first question and you scoff. He shrugs, finding no shame. He needs to know now, before he becomes too hopeful. Before he creates a mess because let's be real, if she’s seeing someone, she won't be after this week.

“Yes. Did you really see a therapist in Colombia?”

Javier smirked, pleased to know that you asked about him. Still you don’t crease at his growing smile. So he bites it back because it looks like you want to rip his head off. “Yes. I went every Thursday for almost three years. She’s finding me a new one in our area.”

“She?”  You snap. 

And lord forgive him for how the blood rushed to his dick. All of this felt like the conversation you had in 1986 when he came home. He hopes this Christmas ends with you pinned against his bedroom door and him telling you that he will do anything to make it work. His chin juts in a mocking way, playing with fire. “You jealous?”

Your nostrils flare. “You fuck her?”

“Eh. My turn.” He reminds you of the rules of your own game. You purse your lips and he likes to way they pout. “Are you mad at me for asking you not to come see me after the wedding?” It's the question that haunted him. He begged forgiveness from no one, torturing himself for pushing you away. Hoping you understood his intentions and didn’t see it as an invitation for you to stay away forever. But the more time that past, more days of no calls from you, he feared that maybe he fucked it all up.

Your eyes drop. Allowing the sounds of Christmas bells and chatter fill the wind between you two. 

“I was angry for a brief amount of time. Then I just felt sad for you. Because I know–” There it was, the crack. “I know you were put through so much and you didn’t want me to pick up the pieces. I would have you-” You look up at him, cheeks stained now. And he knows.

“You would have. I couldn’t let that happen again. I was tired of hurting you.”

“My hands are still scarred. I’ll re-open any wound for you.” 

His gums itch and his chin quivers at that. “Do you still feel that way?” He breaks the rules and you don’t seem to care anymore. 

“Of course. It's hard being angry at someone who is so far–who was putting their life on the line of their work. Javi– I’d get so sick from worry-” Fuck it, he takes those steps down to you. Cradling your soft face in his hands, thumbs brushing away tears. You fade into him. “I missed you so much.”

“Andrea, I missed you. None of my colleagues liked me because I was so riddled with grief.” He leans in so close, so close he could see the small freckles that hide in the winter. “I didn’t even want to try to get to know anyone.” He thinks of the faceless women that took him to a climax before they were on their way. Sadistically, he hoped you at least found comfort in someone. 

You close your eyes and he leans in to kiss you. You turn your face, rejecting him but he doesn’t care. He kisses your cheek in earnest and tastes your tears. Planting soft kisses up your cheek.

 “Are you seeing anyone?” 

He pauses his kisses and chuckles. “No.”

“Okay.” Eyes, opening you get on your tiptoes and wrap your arms around his neck. Nails entangling in the back of his hair and he’s in heaven. What a privilege it is to be touched by you. Kissing his cheek yourself. “I won't kiss you.”

He was in heaven, your soft lips nipping at his face and his neck. He groans, “That's okay.” You nod against him. Moving your head to the other side of his face, exposing your neck while you kissed his face. He presses his lips to your neck. 

“I need time…” You moan, “To think.” Your nails scrape the nape of his neck and he’s getting harder each passing second. How the fuck did I end up here? 

“That’s okay– When do you go back– fuck don’t press up on me like that.” Her belly caused a friction in his pants that would definitely spoil the holidays.

“January third– sorry.” You suck on his neck and he groans once more. “Will you sleep with me tonight?”

“Yes.” He says it like it was a no brainer because it was. Whatever mess came with this, he was fully equipped this time. Nothing holding him back. Besides the fact that she lives in fucking New York of course. You pull back from him and he feels the pit in his stomach grow darker and deeper. No, come back, bite me. 

“Not like that. I just want to be in bed with you.” 

He shrugs, he’ll take whatever he can get. “That's okay. My place or–”

“I have a hotel.”

He shakes his head, craning his head to press his lips against your ear. “If we get into that hotel room I’ll have no choice but to fuck you into that mattress.” he whispers but he means every word. He doesn't care if it’s too fragile to be this forward.

“Your place then.” You step away from him and he feels a great loss in his soul. Eyes roving to the door. “We are being suspicious. We should go inside.”

“I’m not hiding anything this time. If you want to use me for this week as a sleeping companion or a fuck toy or I don’t know a mortal enemy I’ll take it and everyone can mind their fucking business.” Javier snaps, he doesn’t care if you're just making an irrational decision because you miss him. He fucking misses you too, if it means two weeks of playing house- so be it.

Dr. Hertz would be so disappointed. 

“Or… Maybe just a friend.” You lie straight through your teeth and he lets you. You straighten your dress and wipe the remaining tears on your cheek and walk right past him. 

“Wasn’t it you that told me that you didn’t know how to be my friend in the winter?”

 It rings out in the air. He can picture it, Christmas eve 1979. You half asleep at The Smithfield’s Christmas party. You had been so jittery and distant. His idiot teenage brain couldn’t comprehend that the love you had for him made you act outside yourself, especially since for the first time ever you watched him show love to another girl. 

Your lips twitch in a smile, seemingly shocked that he remembers just as much as you. 

“Merry Christmas.”

[hannathecartoonlover]

HEY do you want a interpretation of bill cipher’s backstory well I got just the fanfic for you guarantee to make you cry while also following what we have about bill and his past has lots of mommy and daddy issues