#but now we’re gonna have to wait until we get our own place

[blitzy-blitzwing]

Dang it, my bro and I were trying to adopt a cat but the landlord’s wife is allergic to cats. 😩😩

[planetaryupscaled]

Forbidden Desire

Male x Chaewon x Kim Minjeong (Winter)

Tags: 4k, taboo, oral, breeding, threesome, tw

The story is not ours, we alternate the original story to match our desired settings.

“Daddy,” Minjeong said, sweet as ever, “Chaewon is a slut.”

“Noo Daddy!” Chaewon complained, “Minjeong is a liar and a sl-”

“Shush! You’re both bad little sluts who have disturbed my sleep, and did I hear something about a boyfriend?” He slapped his hands under their skirts and gripped their tight asses, both sisters squirmed hard.

“He’s nobody, Daddy. Just... a cute boy from school.”

“Liar,” Chaewon smirked, “She’s trying to get pregnant!”

“Preg- shut up! You were trying the same thing!”

“I’m not gonna let you be the first one, like always!”

The sisters shared a remarkable amount of things, but they constantly fought over who got what. They were old enough to no longer be bent over his knee, yet still fought like children.

But he found a different way to get his cock-hungry daughters to play nice.

“You both know the rules: No boyfriends until you have your own place,” he said. Chaewon and Minjeong’s eyes lit up, though cautious. They had been very naughty after all.

“Are you mad, Daddy?” Minjeong asked. “I just... couldn’t wait to be… a mother.”

“Me neither,” Chaewon whined. He could already feel his daughters’ need to moisten their panties. The same went for her sister. Both were hungry for cock, and more than just a good fucking. He shook his head and began to unclasp his belt.

Daddy’s horny girls needed some lesson.

“You’re both being very bad girls,” he said, dropping his belt on the ground beside his chair and unzipping his jeans. “Getting a boyfriend and not even sharing him like good sisters should...”

“We’re sorry!” the girls said in unison. They were staring at his lap as he fished his cock out of his boxers.

“Not enough girls. You also interrupted my sleep. So, you two will have to make me feel better about that.”

“Yes Daddy!” Chaewon was the fastest to drop to her knees and kiss the head of his cock. Minjeong was close behind, scowling as her sister’s lips wrapped around her father’s cockhead.

“Tch, greedy slut...” she mumbled, edging her way beneath her sister to kiss her father’s balls.

“Mwah! That’s right, Daddy’s mine, just like your boy- unngh” He pulled Chaewon hard, bulging her overfilled throat out with every inch of his cock.

“Enough bitching,” he growled before letting go of his mischievous daughter.

“D-Daddy, that’s mean,” The girl coughed and sputtered despite the big smile on her face.

“That’s right, Daddy can be mean. Now girls,” He wrapped his hands around both of their necks and drew them in until their noses touched either side of his cock. “You’ll both share Daddy’s cock and be nice to each other. Understand?”

“Yes, Daddy...” They said in unison.

“Good. Now kiss it,” His pressed their lips against either side of his stiffened cock. Neither of his girls resisted. They worked his shaft immediately, their soft mouths kissing and licking either edge of their father’s twitching cock. Their matching hair framed their faces, both close-eyed and revelling in the taste of the thing that helped make them years ago. And as they both rose to the mushroomed head their lips connected and their tongue wrestled around it.

“Good girls...” He petted their gently bobbing heads. The animosity between them initially fueled their almost violent kissing, as if battling to get more of his cock into them.

However, the mirror-match quickly devolved into a sweet, lustful make-out session that only loving sisters could appreciate. Their little mewls, smacking lips, and roving tongues turned on their father with ferocity.

“Mmm, isn’t that how you two should always be?”

The girls cast their azure eyes up at him and nodded without pausing their ministrations. They kissed while their father’s cock glazed their mouths with spurts of precum that drooled down their chins. It slopped down to their low-cut tops and clung fast to them in sticky strings.

They were almost messy enough to coax the cum out of his balls right there. But he couldn’t let that happen just yet. Reluctant to end their harmonious dick-worship, he peeled his gasping daughters away.

“Feeling better?” he asked. His girls nodded, their meek smiles and chins dripping with familial juices.

“Daddy, I’m horny... I want a baby,” Minjeong confessed.

“Me too,” Chaewon added, “Will you let Minjeong’s boyfriend knock us up now?”

“No,” He replied. Before his crestfallen angels could even whine, he scooped them up under each arm. They squealed and squirmed as he carried them off to his bedroom where he’d taken them many times before.

They weren’t even trying to get away, not even when he tossed nymphs onto his bedsheets and tore open the fronts of their blouses.

“No boyfriends, you bad little girls.”

“But Daddy…” Minjeong scowled as her nubile tits bobbled free in the air.

“No ‘buts’ about it, from you either,” He shot a look at his other pouting daughter.

“But I want a baby Daddy...” Chaewon said. “Why won’t you let us make you grandkids already?”

“Because Daddy doesn’t want grandkids,” he said, planting his hands on their flat bellies. “Daddy want’s more daughters from his bad little girls. Understand?”

They did, and simultaneously stripped their soaking panties from their fertile hips and flipped their mini-skirts up over their exposed bellies. They knew the drill, but this time their hips almost shivered with excitement. Throwing his clothes next to his girls’, he dragged them down the bed until their legs dangled over the edge.

“Daddy, I want to have your baby first!” Minjeong spread her thighs wide.

“No, Daddy! Knock me up first!” Chaewon bucked her hips and spread even wider.

“Hey, you’re the one who-”

“Shhh…” He grabbed both girls and sank his fingers into their wet holes. Both almost sucked him in all the way to his knuckles — their almost identical pussies are desperate for incestuous satisfaction. Despite their squirming and moaning, he began to pump them.

Minjeong gripped her bare chest right beneath her breasts, her crossed arms squishing her tender tits together into such an inviting cleavage. Her tight pink nipples perked up, tightened by the cool air, and popped easily into her Daddy’s hungry mouth.

“Ooh Daddy...” Minjeong mewled. “Daddy’s sucking them...”

“Get used to it,” He said, lathering his girl’s perky tits with his tongue, “My babies are always hungry for these little things.”

“Daddy,” Chaewon said in a sing song voice, pressing her tits against her sister, “I need to get used to it too!”

“Yes you do,” He said, leaving his first daughter’s tits shimmering with his lavish spittle before doing the same on his second. Chaewon squirmed and moaned, a little louder than Minjeong. But that didn’t last long. He curled his fingers inside her pussy till her whines melted away into a lewd moan, one that was matched by her sister when he gave her tit a little bite.

“Daddy! Babies don’t bite,” Chaewon said.

“Well, I do,” he raked her other nipple with his teeth. That set her pussy ablaze, squirming and crushing in around his far-reaching fingers. The sisters bucked their hips in tandem against their father’s palm, firing up their fertile cores till they simply couldn’t be ignored.

“Mmmph,” Minjeong bucked helplessly against her father’s hand, “Daddy, you’re so deep...”

“Yeah? I don’t think its deep enough,” he said. The slurping of his fingers escaping her pussy was quickly drowned by her deep moan, a moan muffled by his fingers dripping with her own juices. Their beautiful eyes glued onto him as he lined his erection up with Minjeong’s tightness.

“Daddy...” Minjeong bit her lower lip, “We’re ovulating today...”

“Daddy knows,” he said as he sank his cock into Minjeong’s bare pussy. The girl moaned and arched her back into the pillows while her envious sister watched. Chaewon’s inner walls clasped tight around his fingers, mimicking the way Minjeong’s love tunnel rippled around his cock. They were sisters after all.

The headboard began thumping against the wall. He wasted no time in thrusting his dick deep into his virginally tight daughter. Just the same, Minjeong huffed and whined as her tiny teen pussy got stretched out. The air began to fill with the smucking sounds of sisters’ slits being filled and unfilled, harder and faster.

“Ooh daddy… you’re so big and — umph!”

“Bigger than her boyfriend,” Chaewon added, rubbing her own pussy besides her father’s hand and watching her sister’s slit getting stuffed. “It’s not fair... I can take daddy’s cock better...”

“Oh can you?” he groaned and pulled out of his writhing Minjeong with a slurp. The sad little whine on the left was quickly drowned out by the lewd yowl from the right. Chaewon braced herself half against the bed and half against her sister.

“Ah! D-daddy, go slow...” she begge, but he shook his head.

“Your sister lubed me up nicely,” he said, slapping his juisce dripping cock against Chaewon’s hesitant slit. “So you’re going to take Daddy all at once honey…”

“But Daddy I’m…”

“Daddy’s slut,” he growled and shoved himself in deep. Chaewon howled and squeezed her sister tight, shaking as her body struggled to take him in all the way. Unable to resist her father’s strength and lust. He grinned alongside Minjeong as they watched the once-spirited girl lose her confidence and composure.

“Thank your sister for all that slippery cum, honey.” he said, pounding Chaewon forbidden tight hole with hard thrust of his hips.

“Th-thank you…ohh!” Chaewon managed as her entire petite frame jilted with each fall of his hips. The father turned to his other girl, her legs still spread, showing off her own creaming pussy.

“Hear that Minjeong? Now give your nice sister a kiss...” his cock throbbed as Minjeong nodded, the blush on her cheeks matching her sister’s. Chaewon’s moans disappeared into her sister’s soft lips, the light smacks and suckling sounds nearly pushed him over the edge.

“OH! Daddy… your cock slipped out,” Chaewon whined.

“Mmm, my turn again,” Minjeong raised her leg like a bunny in heat, draping it over her still-whining sister.

“No… Daddy fucked you longer. I want more!”

“You aren’t as good a fuck as me. How do you think I got a boyfriend, huh?”

“You stole my last —”

“That’s enough,” Robert grabbed Minjeong and yanked his teasing slut daughter over her sister. Belly to belly, his girls smooshed together as he pressed their waggling hips together. Both girls squealed and writhed, their sweaty skin gleaming as their legs framed their pussies, ready for their Daddy to use.

“You’ve both been very bad girls,” he said, slapping his cock first against Minjeong’s slit before doing the same to Chaewon’s below. “If you don’t play nice with each other, you won’t get any of me tonight.”

“No, please!” Chaewon moaned.

“Daddy! We’ll be good, we promise!” Minjeong added. Both voices shivered with desperation, their bodies left stranded halfway to climax. Now their vulnerable pussies sopped with need. Minjeong’s pink slit drooled onto her sister’s as he thrust his cock between their slippery mounds and sensitive clits.

“Good, now be good sisters while Daddy fucks you...”

Their hair tangled together, dampened already by the heat of one another, and their unprotected pussies yielded nicely to the thrusts of their father’s cock. He couldn’t remember a time when his daughters were so quiet together, with only the little smooches and whines coming from their lips. They wouldn’t stay quiet for long.

“That feels so good, Daddy...” Minjeong moaned.

“Put it in me — I mean us, Daddy!” Chaewon begged.

He couldn’t agree more. The edge of his shaft grazed both girls back and forth until their waggling, humping hips threatened to crush his cock in the frothy mess he made between them. Both of their gaping holes were so inviting, but it was Minjeong who got it first.

“D-Daddy — oh fuck!” she stammered, her girlish hole struggling to accommodate her father’s manly girth. Minjeong’s fingers gripped her sister’s tits as she lifted back to look behind her, but he grabbed the curious daughter’s hair with a firm grip.

“Keep your eyes on your sister,” he commanded as he pumping her love hole with a steady pace. “Tell her what Daddy’s doing to you.”

“Nghh okay Daddy... umph, ahh... Daddy’s filling me up so much sis...”

“Yeah… I can feel his balls hitting my clit,” Chaewon gulped between her huffing breaths. “And Daddy’s cock, it’s... it’s bulging your belly, I can feel it against mine. Ughh, its sliding so far up, and then back down and...”

He pressed his cock back into Chaewon, spearing into the moaning daughter with his cock dripping with her sister’s juices. He shoved two fingers back into his mewling girl on top, keeping her tightness stretched for when he would come to fuck her again.

“I feel it too, Chaewon! He’s fingering me. Daddy’s fingering me! Oh my god, your belly sis! Come on, Dad! Put it back in—Mmm…”

Minjeong was getting fuck-drunk, and so was Chaewon. Both huffed and panted like bunnies in heat. Because they were desperate to be bred, and their father was determined to fill his sweet girls.

He went back and forth, filling his girls. While pounding into Minjeong, his balls slammed into Chaewon’s quivering pussy lips. When he rutted into Chaewon, he kneaded Minjeong’s petite ass. Sisters’ legs entwined and grappled back around their father’s jutting hips, bringing him closer and closer as their ecstasy increased. It was Chaewon who began to tense up first.

“Daddy, I’m... I’m getting close.”

“Me too. I’m going to cum on your cock daddy…”

Minjeong tensed up with her sister, the two hugging each other tight and kissing each other in blind passion. It didn’t matter that they missed half the time, kissing the cheek, chin, and nose. Their eyes were rolling back in their heads, their minds racing through the clouds to the pounding rhythm of the headboard slamming againts the wall.

“That’s it, cum for daddy girls…” He bore down, pressing them both into the bed and watching their blushing faces mewl and moan beside one another.

“Cum hard so that Daddy’s sperm can produces some pretty babies in you both.”

“Oh Daddy… give me a baby!” Minjeong wailed.

“Knock me up, Daddy!” Chaewon screamed.

And he did exactly that. With a roar, he gripped their fertile hips tightly and buried his spurting cock inside Minjeong. Ropes of potent spurt were blasted into his topmost daughter’s pussy, splattering the teen’s fertile womb with incestuous babymakers. The heat of his gooey load set her off like an overdrawn bow.

“He-he’s cumming inside me!!” Minjeong screamed, her pussy collapsing into orgasmic pulses. The senseless girl writhed on top of her sister, clawing, kissing, and hugging her tightly. He wasn’t done, though. Despite the death-grip pull of Minjeong tight pussy, it couldn’t stop him from yanking free and plunging right into Chaewon’s quivering hole in time to shoot inside her as well.

“D-Daddy’s cum is — ughh!” Chaewon couldn’t say anymore as she arched up hard enough to hoist her sister with her bucking. Thick shots of her father’s cum hit her unprotected cervix. Millions of swimmers slammed into her innermost places, the same ones that had made them years ago.

Another healthy globs shot up inside her before he pulled away from his daughter’s wild sex. Jerking himself off with their juice lubricating his cock, He glazed their pussies with the last spurts of his fatherly cum. His girls, sweaty and gasping with their mutual ecstasy, moaned and humped their Daddy’s cum with their rubbing pussies until his incestuous seed stringed and frothed between them.

“Daddy’s cum... It’s so hot” Minjeong sighed.

“Yeah...” Chaewon simply cooed in agreement and pressed her freshly fucked pussy against her sister’s. He caught his breath, his loins still pulsing with satisfied need, and dripped it onto his girls.

“Are you going to be good girls for me now?”

“Yes Daddy,” Minjeong said. “No more boyfriends. Just Daddy.”

“We’re full of Daddy’s babies anyhow!” Chaewon added, sending a giggle through both girls.

“Good...” He sighed.

“But Daddy...” Chaewon pouted and looked up at her father while touching her red rose messy slit. “You came more in Minjeong. I felt it!”

“No! He fucked you longer,” Minjeong replied, “I’ll still have his baby first.”

“No way! I’m going to have twins from Daddy’s extra-fucking!”

“Wahh? Daddy! It isn’t fair! Fuck me till I have twins too!”

“Bad girls,” he growled, unable to hide his smile as he flipped his girls over so Chaewon came out on top. “Daddy’s going to fill you both so full of babies you’ll be grounded for nine months!”

The sisters squealed with delight, waggling their ripe hips at him as the same cum that made them leaked from their fertile cunt.

Both were already going to get knocked up, probably with twins of their own, and the father knew he was just exponentially exacerbating his problems.

But that didn’t stop him from slapping his hardening cock back against their naughty little pussies. He had to be a good Daddy after all.

[i-heart-yellowstone]

Kayce dutton x reader

Reader surprises kayce with lunch at his office

You're a Darn good Wife

Here's the first official request on the new All Yellowstone blog!!! 😁

Parking my red truck outside the Livestock department office I pushed the driver door open and closed after grabbing the lunch bag of burgers from the place down the street. Entering the building I stopped at the front desk seeing the familiar blonde sitting there named Amy. "What can I do for you, Mrs. Dutton?"

"Is my husband in his office by chance?" I asked her.

She shakes her head no with a half smile. "He's out with the sheriff right now. But he should be back before lunch is over."

"Alright. I'll wait in his office. But don't tell him I'm here." I told her, wanting it to be a surprise for when he comes back. She nodded in agreement, watching me head around the corner out of her line of sight.

Opening his office door, I sat down the bag on his desk, scanning my eyes over the disorderly pile of paperwork he had on it. Sitting out the sandwiches and fries before plopping down in the computer chair scrolling on my cell phone until I heard footsteps coming down the hallway. “Good afternoon, cowboy.” I chimed in seeing him walk inside the office with a bright smile on my face.

“Y/n, what are you doing here?” He dropped his jacket on the hook by the door, opening his arms for me.

I rushed forward flinging my arms around his neck chucking into his shoulder. He wrapped his arms tightly around my waist kissing my hair clearly suprised I was there during lunch. “I thought I’d suprised you with lunch from that burger place you like near Bozeman. Considering we barely see each other with you working here and me working on your father’s land since half of the cowboys are up at the Summer Camp.”

“Well I’m certainly not gonna complain about any visit that involves you.” Kayce barely broke the hug gently holding me with his hands on my waist.

My arms stayed around his neck where I sent him a grin. “You better not like my visits. I did agree to marry you even when you told me you had a kid with your ex wife.”

“Hey, you love Tate.” Kayce gasped slightly offended.

I gave him a half smile tilting my head to the side reassuring what I had said minutes ago. “I’m just messing with you. I really do love Tate and treat him like he’s my own kid until we have our own of course.”

“You want to have kids with me.” Kayce’s face brightened at the words that had came out of my mouth.

I responded to my husband. “Of course. I told you on our fourth date that I wanted marriage and kids.”

“I was waiting to ask if we should start trying for a baby and now that I know that. I think we could start right now if you’re up for it.” He bends down on his knees quickly picking me up by my thighs and I wrap my arms around little tighter around hi neck even though he wouldn’t drop me.

I squealed when he carries me over to his desk and he slides some of the papers onto the floor without a real care in the world except me and him in that moment. “Kayce! What about the burgers?”

“Oh don’t worry we’ll be eating them when we’re done.” He smirked at me, moving his fingers down to the bottom of my shirt shrugging it upward and tossing it onto the floor with his own.

I scanned my eyes over his chest feeling my face turning red till I realized the door was still opened. “Wait a second. We have sex with the door wide open. I don’t think your coworkers would like that too much.”

“See we’ve got nothing to worry about. Especially when you’re a darn good wife who looks damn good to me right now.” Kayce ran slamming it closed and locking the door behind him before he rushed back over to me. He stands as close to me as he can possibly get cupping my face in his hands pressing his lips down onto mine.

Threading my fingers into the fabric of dark tan dress shirt seconds before I quickly began undoing the buttons on it and finally launched it across the office. “You better not waste those burgers. Dutton. Otherwise I will you regret your decisions later down the road.” I told before he gently pushed me down onto the desk and he sat the bag of food on the ground.

“Don’t you worry, baby. Once I get you pregnant you won’t be too worried about whether or not we wasted some burgers or not.” He smirked down at me, hovering above me till I wrapped my arms around his neck bringing him back down for another kiss.

He moved one hand over my hip and his other was holding his body up a little so not all of his weight was on top of me. “I’ll hold you to that promise, Kayce.” I broke the kiss where he smiled down at me, reconnecting our lips together and we let ourselves get lost in the other person.

Comments really appreciated ❤️

[captain-barnes-writes]

What is soft launch? (Carlos Sainz)

Part two

Summary: Max Verstappen’s ex girlfriend moves on with none other than Ferrari’s Carlos Sainz and they’ve managed to keep their relationship under wraps until now. | part three |

Type: insta au

Face claim: Cindy Kimberly

Pairing: Carlos Sainz x fem!reader x ex!Max Verstappen

Warning: fluff, salty max, romantic carlos hehe

———

Liked by YourUsername, LandoNorris, CharlesLeclerc and others

CarlosSainz55 best summer break yet 😉

comments

LandoNorris you included our golf date 😗

CarlosSainz55 date???

LandoNorris that’s exactly what I said 😑

DanielRicciardo and I wasn’t included in this date, why??? 🔪

LandoNorris we’re keeping it lowkey for now

Username my faves interacting 🥰

DanielRicciardo i spy with my little eye 👀

Comment liked by YourUsername and others

YourUsername 🌊

Comment liked by CarlosSainz55, DanielRicciardo and others

Username Ariana what are you doin here

Username Carlos & Y/N??🫢

Username she’s really homie hopping

Username it’s not even her 😐

——

CarlosSainz55 posted a story

replies

YourUsername I miss summer break & you♥️

CarlosSainz55 I miss you more amor, see you soon.

YourUsername almost bebé🤞

Username Best of luck!

Username How can somebody be so good looking😭

———

Liked by 15,786

Tagged: YourUsername

F1Wags Y/N was seen leaving Carlos Sainz home with not one, but two (!!) bouquets of flowers seemingly from the Spaniard. This comes after the two have been frequenting the same places recently. Y/N and Max Verstappen broke up more than 2 years ago and it’s the first time there’s been rumors of her being linked with anybody else since. In contrast, Max moved on to Kelly Piquet only a month after their breakup. Are we getting our favorite wag back? 🤔

comments

Username she’s got the rizz ��‍💨

Username THE grid rizz

Username Am I the only one who really wants them to be a couple?

Username she couldn’t find someone else?

Username im on my knees

Username didn’t think we’d get Y/N as a wag again😍

Username imagine Max right now 🤣🤣

Username karma really came to bite him and I OOP😳

——

Liked by 20,458

F1Wags Y/N and Carlos Sainz were spotted kissing and getting cozy only a day after she was photographed leaving his home. We’ve got our favorite girl back, but now in Ferrari 🔴

comments

Username she really can’t leave the f1 drivers alone can she?

Username can you blame her?

Username if I looked like her I’d be through half the grid already 😮‍💨

Username she really waited so long, she deserves this

Username Max is screaming into his pillow rn 🫨

Username these races are gonna be so awkward 🫢

Username im shipping them already

Username not ashamed to say that’s my Ferrari girl!

———

MaxVerstappen1 posted a story

replies

Username 2 years later & you regret it just now?

Username the DRAMA

Username Max you’ve got your own family now?? What is this

Username after all this time & you’ve still kept your pictures with Y/N😨

Username sir have you forgotten you’ve got a girlfriend?

LandoNorris Take this down mate. I’m about to call you

MaxVerstappen1 This is so fucked up

LandoNorris she’s just moved on is all

MaxVerstappen1 but with Carlos out of all people?

MaxVerstappen1 deleted his story

——

Liked by 1,209,937

Tagged: YourUsername

CarlosSainz55 One whole year with you mi princesa 👸 I’m happy to have spent this last year just us two without being under the microscope of the whole world and though things are now different, I’m glad I get to experience this life with you. I love you ❤️‍🔥

comments

YourUsername Happy one year to us mi amor. Grateful for you always💕

CarlosSainz55 mi princesa

CharlesLeclerc happy for you guys!

Charlottesiine you guys are so great together❤️

Yourbff thanks for always filling her home with flowers, you really make her the happiest 🥹

LandoNorris what about carlando?

YourUsername he’s still yours too Lando!

LandoNorris I knew you’d still share him😏

Username new favorite duo

Username Max must be on the floor rn

Username ok but one whole year??

Username Max really unfollowed Carlos yikes 😶

MaxVerstappen1 has unfollowed CarlosSainz55

——

Liked by 700,689

Tagged CarlosSainz55

YourUsername hard launching on our one year❤️‍🔥 Grateful for you. I adore how you always show your love for me, we really give each other our all everyday no matter where in the world we are. I’m glad I get to experience this life with you (and Piñon!) I love you mi amor 🥰🥰

comments on this post have been limited

CarlosSainz55 I know what a soft and hard launch means now 😳 I love you mi princesa and so does piñon.

YourUsername with the amount of treats I give him he better love me 😶 te amo ♥️

Yourbff my favorites!

comment liked by YourUsername and CarlosSainz55

LandoNorris but carlando still lives on 😮‍💨

YourUsername I’ll never stand in the way 🫡

LandoNorris this is the hardest launch I’ve seen

CarlosSainz55 the smoothest 😈

TO BE CONTINUED

——————

I couldn’t wait to get this part out. I’ve come to really enjoy making these ☺️ hope you guys enjoy

[lvnleah]

002. | two lines

word count: 3.9k

find the masterlist here!

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July 30th 2023.

It had been two weeks since your embryo transfer and they’d felt like the longest two weeks ever. The days seemed to drag on and like they were never going to end. All you and Leah wanted to do was grab the box of pregnancy tests and see if your little embryo had stuck.

You’d heard about how tough the two-week wait was but you didn’t expect it to be so tough for you and Leah. The urge to take a pregnancy test bubbled up inside of you more and more each day, it was all you were thinking about.

The two weeks had been hard for both you and Leah. You found yourself more emotional and tired than usual and you were getting overwhelmed more easily. You weren't sure whether it was from all the hormones being pumped into your body or just the stress that the wait was causing.

Half way through the two week wait, Leah’s rehab began which meant you focused on something else for a few days. For a few days your mind was taken off of the pregnancy tests that sat in the cupboard daunting you but the same urge to test soon came back. You were in the bathroom when you heard the front door open and Leah’s voice soon followed the sound.

“Love?” Leah called out as you heard her bag drop, “I’m home!”

“In the bathroom!” You called back, your voice shaking with emotions.

A few seconds later the bathroom door opened. Leah’s mouth dropped open as her eyes darted between you sitting on the toilet lid and the four different pregnancy tests lined up on the bathroom counter.

“Did you?” Leah trailed off, pointing at the pregnancy tests, “Did you take them?”

You nodded, tears welling in your eyes, “about five minutes ago but I’ve not looked.”

It had been ten days since your embryo transfer and today was the day that you were allowed to take a pregnancy test. Although you and Leah had agreed to wait until she was home from training, you just couldn’t wait to take the test.

You and Leah exchanged a nervous glance. Leah stepped closer and pulled you into a hug as you stood up.

“Everything’s going to be fine,” Leah mumbled as she placed a kiss on your forehead.

Leah cupped your cheeks and softly kissed your lips. “I want you to know, whatever the test says I love you okay? Our family will grow in its own time whether it’s now, next month or in a year. I love you and we’re gonna be okay, if it doesn’t work we can always try again.”

You nodded your head, a few stray tears slipping down your face. “Can you look?

“Yeah of course,” Leah nodded, running her hands down your waist before picking up the test. “Everything’s going to be fine, I promise.”

You watched closely as Leah picked up the two digital pregnancy tests and one normal lined test that laid face down on the bathroom counter. She counted down from three before turning the tests over.

“Holy fuck!” Leah gasped, turning the tests around to face you. “You’re pregnant, we’re having a baby!” Leah laughed as tears welled up in her eyes.

“No way?!” You said in disbelief, taking the tests from Leah’s hands. “Holy shit, I’m pregnant.”

Tears slipped down both your and Leah’s cheeks as you laughed in disbelief. All three tests were positive. The normal ones had faint but still visible lines on them and the digital ones read 2-3 weeks on them.

“I can’t believe it worked.” Leah laughed as she picked you up, “We’re really having a baby.”

You buried your head into the crook of her neck, nodding as tears fell down your face, “we’re going to be mums! Oh my god, that’s crazy.”

You couldn’t believe it. After years of dreaming about it, you were finally going to have a baby with Leah. A little life was growing inside you, something your mind couldn’t comprehend.

Your legs wrapped around Leah’s waist as she carried you out of the bathroom and into your bedroom. She gently laid you down on the bed before lifting your (her) shirt and revealing your stomach.

“I love you so much,” Leah whispered, kissing your lips gently, “I love you both so so much.”

You laughed as you both wiped your tears, “I love you so much more.”

“Can I talk to them?” She questioned, her hand resting on your stomach.

“Of course, Le.” You smiled, propping yourself up on your elbows, “they’re still tiny though.”

“I don’t care.” She said, moving down so her head was level with your stomach. “Hi baby, I’m your Mumma!”

Leah began to rub small circles just below your belly button while your hand rubbed over her blonde hair.

She lifted her hand and placed a soft kiss on your stomach, “I’m your Mumma, I can’t wait to meet you. You’re so so loved already and I’m so proud to be your Mumma, little Gooner.”

You laughed, “Le, baby what if they’re not an Arsenal supporter? What if they follow in your Dad and Jacob’s footsteps and support Tottenham?”

“Over my dead body will my child be a Tottenham supporter!” Leah said, disgust jokingly written over her face. “No way will my brother or dad brainwash them into supporting Tottenham, they’ll be a Gooner through and through!”

You cupped Leah’s and pulled her lips up to your own, “Whatever you say baby.” You laughed.

The next day, your IVF clinic confirmed the pregnancy through blood tests. You were officially pregnant, 4 weeks to be exact, and they soon booked you in for your first ultrasound at 8 weeks.

A week before your ultrasound, morning sickness began.

A wave of nausea washed over your body the second your eyes peeled themselves open. You fought to get the duvet off your sweaty body before dashing to the bathroom, Leah following closely behind you.

You threw yourself down on the ground and lifted the toilet seat, spilling the contents of your stomach. It soon became part of your daily routine. You wake up, throw up and get back into bed and then throw up again for most of the day.

You were constantly nauseous and throwing up, your boobs ached like anything and soon the food diversions settled in.

“Deep breaths,” Leah said, her voice soothing as you threw up. “It’ll pass.”

“I hate this.” You groaned in between throwing up, “Is this what it’s going to be like?”

Leah sighed, “Only for a few weeks, it’ll be okay, I promise pretty girl.”

The morning of your first ultrasound, August 24th, you woke up the same way you’d woken up for the past week. Leah comforted you just like she had done every morning before making you some plain toast, one of the few things you could stomach.

While getting ready, waves of nausea overtook you and you found yourself spending more time next to the toilet than actually getting ready.

Eventually, you were able to tear yourself away from the toilet and leave your apartment. The ultrasound clinic was a short drive away. You sat in the passenger seat, clutching your stomach as if that would somehow ease the nausea. Leah drove carefully, glancing at you with concern every now and then.

“Are you okay?” she asked, her voice gentle.

You nodded, unable to speak. The waves of nausea were relentless, and you wondered how you’d manage to get through the ultrasound without throwing up.

When you arrived at the clinic, the waiting room was surprisingly empty. A receptionist greeted you and handed you a clipboard with forms to fill out. You tried to focus on the basic question which asked your name, date of birth, and medical history but your mind kept drifting back to the queasiness in your stomach.

Leah sat beside you, holding your hand. “Almost time to see our bubba,” she whispered, placing a kiss on your temple. “Just a few more minutes.”

You nodded and a few moments later your name was called. You and Leah followed the nurse down the hallway and into the small room. Leah pulled up a chair beside you and held your hand as you laid on the examination table.

“The gel will be a little bit cold.” the young nurse warned you, a gentle smile on her face.”

As the nurse spread the cold gel on your abdomen, you felt Leah's grip tighten around your hand. The room was dimly lit, and the hum of the ultrasound machine was the only sound breaking the silence.

You held your breath as the nurse moved the wand over your skin, and then, there it was.

The first glimpse of your baby.

The image on the screen was grainy and indistinct, but it was enough to make out the tiny heartbeat flickering steadily.

"There's your baby," the nurse said with a smile, pointing to the screen.

Leah's breath hitched, and you turned to see tears welling up in her eyes. She was smiling through her tears, a look of pure joy and wonder on her face.

"Oh my goodness," she whispered, her voice choked with emotion. "There's our little bubba."

You squeezed her hand back, equally emotional by the sight in front of you. The waves of nausea that had plagued you all morning faded away as you both watched in awe, already in love with the little life that was just starting to grow.

The nurse’s voice was gentle, "Would you like to hear the heartbeat?"

Without hesitation, you both nodded eagerly. A rhythmic thumping filled the room, Leah's tears spilled over as she listened, squeezing your hand even tighter.

You smiled, feeling a tear trail down your cheek as you looked at Leah, "It's our baby's heartbeat,"

Leah brought your hand up to her mouth before placing a soft kiss on the back of it. You watched as the nurse took measurements and did basic checks on the baby.

"Would you like to take some pictures home?" she eventually asked.

"Yes, please," Leah responded, her voice still thick with tears.

The nurse printed off as many photos as she was allowed to while you cleaned the gel off of your stomach. She also told you your date, April 4th, which was just a few days after Leah’s birthday.

As you settled into the car, Leah cradled the ultrasound photo in her hands, her eyes never leaving it. You glanced over, your heart swelling with love.

"Look at how tiny they are," Leah whispered, tracing the outline of the image. "I can’t believe that’s our baby." Her voice held a mixture of awe and tenderness.

“We’re really having a baby,” you smiled, your eyes meeting with Leah’s as she looked across from you.

Leah's smile was radiant. "I can't wait to meet them," she said. "These next seven and a half months are gonna be long."

“Imagine they come on your birthday,” you laughed, “It’ll be your best birthday gift ever.”

Leah’s smile somehow grew, “It’d be the best, a little birthday buddy.”

The next couple of weeks blurred together and you felt like pregnancy was overtaking your life. The following days after your first ultrasound were spent throwing up all day long and sleeping a lot.

You hoped it was just a bad sickness spell that would soon pass but by the time you were eight weeks along, in late August, it was your daily routine.

You’d wake up, be sick, take a nap, wake up and then be sick again. It was a vicious cycle that was on repeat and you could barely keep food and water down, everything you ate was beige and plain and almost identical to Leah’s plain diet she had.

It was even worse trying to avoid your family and friends. Your closest friends that you shared with Leah were trying to make plans but you always had to come up with some lame excuses, most times using Leah’s ACL as a reason. When it came to family, Leah’s mum knew you were doing IVF but everyone else still had no idea.

No one apart from you and Leah knew you were pregnant despite you being ten weeks.

“Le, please go out with your mum.” You begged your wife, “I’ll be fine, I promise. I’m just going to get back into bed.”

You and Leah had arranged to spend the day with Amanda, you were planning on telling her about the pregnancy. It was the start of September and Leah had a day off from rehab. Her rehab was coming along well and despite you being asleep most of the time you spent together, you were proud of her.

“Pretty girl, I’m not going to leave you when you’re struggling,” Leah said, rubbing circles on your back, “How’re you feeling?”

You sighed, leaning against the cold bathroom wall as you sat next to the toilet, “I think that sickness spell is over, I’ll probably get another half hour before I’m sick again.”

Leah sat down in front of you and passed you a cold bottle of water, “Wanna sit on the couch and cuddle for a bit?”

You nodded, feeling weak and tired. You gave yourself a few minutes before standing up with the help of Leah. You and Leah cuddled underneath your favourite blanket and switched on your favourite movie.

The doorbell rang and you knew it was Amanda. You lifted your head from Leah’s chest and let her answer the door, a few seconds later she returned with Amanda following closely behind you.

“Hey love,” Amanda greeted you, “Leah said you’re under the weather?”

You sat up, “Yeah, I think it’s just a cold or something.”

“Oh Mum, we’ve got something for you, Leah said before she wandered off into the bedroom.

A few minutes later returned with a small Arsenal shirt. It was this season’s one with the number six on the back.

She held it up to Amanda, “What do you think about the new shirt?”

Amanda laughed, “It’s a bit small, Le!”

Amanda’s eyes flickered to you and then back to Leah, and you saw the realisation dawn on her face. “Wait, are you…?” Her voice trailed off, and she pointed at you.

You nodded, “Yeah, I’m pregnant. Ten weeks, due at the start of April!”

Amanda’s eyes widened, and then she enveloped you in a tight hug. “Oh, darling! That’s wonderful news!” Tears welled up in her eyes. “I’m going to be a grandma? The IVF worked then?”

She stood up and hugged Leah, “Yeah it did, Y/N’s been having a rough time with morning sickness. No one warned us it’d be all day!”

“This is amazing!” Amanda smiled, “I didn’t want to say anything because I wasn’t sure it worked, oh darlings I’m so happy for you! How’ve you been, love?”

You sighed, cuddling back into Leah as she sat down on the couch beside you again, “It’s been tough, I’ve had bad morning sickness that lasts all day. My diet is basically identical to Leah’s plain, beige and boring!”

“If you need anything, I’m always here.” Amanda said, “I mean it,” she pointed her finger and gave a classic mum stare. “If Leah’s at rehab and you need anything, don't be afraid to call me.”

You curled into Leah and smiled, “Thank you, Amanda.”

Over the next few days, you and Leah planned out how you were going to tell everyone else. You ended up telling her Dad the same way as you did her mum and for her grandma and cousin’s, you showed them the ultrasound photos.

Your favourite reaction out of all of them had to be Leah’s brother, Jacob.

“Dinners ready!” You announced, setting the three plates of your homemade chicken pie down on the table.

“Thanks Y/N.” Jacob said, sitting down at the table, “Love your cooking, Leah’s cooking is on the verge of being poison!”

Leah gasped, “What! No it’s not, my cookings just as nice as Y/N’s!”

“Yeah right.” Jacob rolled his eyes as he began to eat his dinner.

You all fell into conversation like you usually did, having Jacob round wasn’t unusual and usually happened a few times a week. Your eyes made contact with Leah’s and she gave you a subtle nod, suggesting that you tell the news to Jacob.

“Jacob, have you got any plans for around early April?” You asked.

You knew Jacob was travelling quite a lot at the moment and had different trips planned, he’d recently just returned from a few months in Australia.

He shook his head, “Early April? No, but I was thinking about travelling around Europe again at some point. Why are you planning a trip?”

“No, that’s when the baby will be here,” Leah casually said, shrugging her shoulders like it was nothing, “We don't want you to miss out on your first niece or nephew arriving.”

Jacob’s eyes widened before a wide grin spread across his face. “A baby? Seriously? That’s amazing!” He set down his fork, excitement bubbling over. “I’ll be here, no Europe trip can beat that!”

Leah smiled as her brother stood up and engulfed her in a hug before hugging you, “They’re due around the start of April so you better be!”

“A good few months to plan out how I’m going to make them a Spurs fan,” he teased, “Me and Dad need someone to support Spurs with us!”

Leah sighed and jokingly patted her brother on the back, “I’m not going to let my kid go through the pain that a Spurs fan experiences. They’re going to be a little gooner, mate!”

Jacob shrugged, “I guess we'll just have to see, they’ll know who’s the best team and that’s Spurs.”

Leah shook her head, “No way! Arsenal through and through!”

You laughed, shaking your head and the two siblings bickering like children, “I say we let them decide! They might not even support either of them, love.”

“Don’t you start!” Leah huffed jokingly.

The rest of the evening was filled with Leah and Jacob bickering over how they were going to get your baby to support either team. You sat on the couch, cuddled into Leah, and watched as they went back and forth with different ideas and bribes.

A few days later, you and Leah decided it was time to tell the girls at Arsenal. They’d started to become suspicious as to why Leah was leaving training early and why you weren’t joining them when they went out in the evenings.

“How’s Y/N?” Beth asked Leah as they stretched on the floor together in the gym.

The gym buzzed with activity as the other players stretched and chatted. Today was a gym day for Leah meaning that she got to be around the other girls and not isolated inside.

Not everyone was in the gym but most of the team was. Beth, Steph, Lia, Jen, Laura, Victoria, Kyra, Caitlin, Kim, Alessia, Katie, Viv and Leah were all spread around the gym doing their own things.

Leah nodded, “She’s doing good, just really tired at the moment.”

“Aww no,” Steph said, “Is she sick? I heard there’s a flu going around at the moment.”

“Not exactly,” Leah laughed, shrugging her shoulders.

Just as Leah finished speaking, you walked through the door. “Here you go, love,” you said to Leah, holding out a tiny Arsenal shirt, “forgot this at home.”

All of the girls exchanged confused looks, “Aye Y/N, I don’t think that’s gonna fit yer missus!” Katie pointed out.

Viv gasped, dropping the dumbbell and running over to you. She quickly engulfed you into a side hug, “Oh my god, this is amazing!”

Puzzle faces spread across the room, and all of the girls exchanged confused looks with one another. You and Leah bursted out laughing as Viv rolled her eyes.

Kyra’s face looked the most confused, “This doesn’t make sense…why’s Viv congratulating them? It’s just a shirt.”

"Come on guys, make the connection. Y/n has been really tired, and she's holding a small jersey." Viv pointed out, sighing in disappointment.

The room stayed silent.

She shook her head, "Some might say a baby jersey.”

Gasps echoed around the room, “Are you pregnant?!” Beth was the first to ask, smiling like a child on Christmas.

You nodded and pulled out ultrasound photos from your jeans pockets, “Yeah, I’m eleven weeks!”

The room buzzed with excitement as everyone stood up and congratulated you and Leah. You and Leah exchanged smiles, your hearts swelling with joy. The girls gathered around, their laughter and hugs filling the gym.

“Eleven weeks!” Lia exclaimed as she hugged you, “That’s amazing!”

Steph, still recovering from her initial shock, wiped away a tear. “I can’t believe it,” she said. “A little gooner on the way!”

“Are yer having three?!” Katie asked, looking at the ultrasound photos.

Leah laughed, shaking her head, “No you idiot, we’re just having one thankfully!”

“This is amazing,” Alessia smiled as she took her turn in hugging you, “When are you due?”

“Early April,” you smiled, “there’s a chance of the baby being born on Leah’s birthday.”

Victoria gasped, “That would be so cool, a little birthday twin for Leah!”

The girls laughed, “I’m sure Leah would love that, she’d never shut up.” Jen playfully joked.

“This is amazing,” Kim said, “If you need anything don’t be afraid to tell us, we’re all here for you and I’m sure we can take turns babysitting when your wee one arrives.”

“I’ll babysit anytime!” Kyra announced, “I’ll be the best babysitter ever!”

Caitlin rolled her eyes, “Yeah, no chance! Leah and Y/N probably won’t let you babysit till the baby’s like four!”

“Maybe supervised,” Leah said, throwing her arm around Kyra, “but not on your own till they’re about six!”

Kyra rolled her eyes before Laura spoke up, “Are you finding out the gender?”

You nodded, “Yeah we are, we can find out in a few weeks. I think we’re just going to do a little intimate gender reveal but we need someone to find out the gender and sort it for us.”

“Well, definitely not Beth because we know how she slipped up on the engagement!” Kyra teased.

Beth rolled her eyes, “It was one time and I was excited! My best friend of over ten years was getting engaged!”

“It’s something we need to think about,” you laughed, “we’ll probably do a private one for me and Leah and then something for you and our family.”

The rest of the training flew by and you ended up staying, it was nice for you to catch up with the girls and answer their questions about your pregnancy. A lot of them were interested and excited, they talked about all the moments they couldn’t wait to experience with your little baby.

Later that evening, as you and Leah laid in bed, you ended up talking about your baby once again.

“Le?” You said, getting a hum in response as the blonde completed her sudoku, “Do you want a boy or a girl?”

Leah set her sudoku book down, “Pretty girl, I don’t mind. I’m just so excited to experience being a mother with you that I couldn’t care.”

The blonde slid down the bed and rested her head beside your small bump that was mainly just bloat, “What are you hoping for?”

You shrugged as your hand found home in Leah’s hair, “I don’t mind, I’d love a baby girl though. I feel like it’s a boy.”

Leah placed a soft kiss next to your belly button, “I think it’s a girl. I don’t care though, as long as they’re happy and healthy, then it doesn’t matter.”

[maxsimagination]

Anymore macca smut pls 😏

𝙧𝙚𝙨𝙩𝙧𝙖𝙞𝙣𝙩𝙨 - 𝙢.𝙖𝙧𝙣𝙤𝙡𝙙

summary: actions have consequences… something yn needs to learn.

-> !! bondage & mommy kink !!

𖦹 masterlist

“𝗞𝗘𝗡𝗭! 𝗣𝗟𝗘𝗔𝗦𝗘, please let me come!”

my moans could be heard throughout the room, thankgod the apartment was soundproof.

“only good girls get to come, love. teasing me all day is not how good girls behave.”

mackenzie looked up from her place between my legs. she’d been there for the last hour, slowly bringing me closer and closer to the edge before pulling back completely and letting my orgasm fade.

unfortunately for me, i’d thought that teasing mackenzie all day would rile her up enough to get what i wanted. that plan had backfired and now i was getting the opposite.

i’d spent most of the day purposefully bending over in front of her and giving her little touches when she least expected it.

in return, mackenzie had kept her cool the whole time, until we reached our shared apartment. as soon as we got through the doorway, she flipped me around so i was pinned against the door.

“so we’re misbehaving, are we?”

i had a cheeky grin as she towered over me.

“go to the bedroom. strip, on the bed.”

she pulled away from me and left me standing by the locked front door.

i scurried down to the master bedroom and did exactly as she’d said, stripping down to nothing and sitting on the bed, waiting for mackenzie to come back.

when she did, she was holding silk ties in her hands. my stomach dropped at the sight of the material.

“lay back, arms and legs spread.”

she didn’t miss a beat, getting to work immediately.

i knew there was no point in arguing or pleading. so i lay back and resigned to my fate for that night.

mackenzie tied each of my arms and legs to the nearest bedpost, leaving me spread out on the bed. i could feel her eyes raking over me as she stood up and slowly took her own clothes off.

they were discarded somewhere in the room along with my own as she climbed towards me.

“be a good girl and tell me when you’re gonna cum, yea princess?”

i nodded.

“words, darling.”

“yes, mommy.”

you could see the instant change in her demeanour as soon as the words left my mouth.

it didn’t take her to to lean down and immediately attach her mouth to my clit, swirling and sucking the little nub until it was throbbing and leaving me high with need.

“kenz, please let me cum! i’m so close..”

“that’s not my name, darling.”

true to her word, she pulled away when i was close, which earned a groan from me.

“please mommy, can i cum?”

“much better, but no. bad girls don’t get to cum.”

it continued like that for another hour, leading to my current situation. my wrists, still tied up, were slightly red and sore from all the tugging and straining. my legs were cramped from the countless orgasms i’d almost had.

“ma- mommy, please. i’ve been good for you, i’ve not cum yet. please let me cum!”

mackenzie smirked at my near slip-up, leaning up toward me.

“have you been good? maybe you need a little bit more…”

she teased me, licking a long stripe up through my folds before sucking harshly against my clit. i let out a loud moan, the bundle of nerves was so sensitive now it’d been teased for hours.

“no! please, let me cum. please mommy!”

i wasn’t sure how much more teasing i could take before i went insane. luckily mackenzie seemed to agree and she dove back down into my folds, beginning to swirl and suck the little nub harder and harder.

it was then that she bought her fingers up, brushing them through my wetness and sliding one into my clenching hole. a moan left my through at the feeling of her fingers inside me.

she set a steady pace, pumping in and out consistantly, and it didn’t take long before i could feel the coil in my lower belly start to tighten.

“mommy i’m close. please can i cum?”

she didn’t respond immediately, giving my clit a harsh suck to which i moaned loudly at.

“cum for me, princess.”

finally, my high came crashing over me, mackenzie’s fingers still working in and out of my hole, which was clenching hard around her digits.

she fucked me through my orgasm before slowing everything down and eventually pulling out.

she stood up, towering over me, who was still tied to the bed, and sucked my juices off her fingers.

“think you’ve learnt your lesson, princess? or do we need to keep the restraints?”

i think we both knew the answer to that question.

[ladykailitha]

The Harrington Pattern Part 13

This is it guys, the chapter of this fic. I have had an absolute blast writing and even more so reading all the comments and tags.

This last chapter is dedicated to all those who wanted the moms to bring Steve into their fold. This was also chance for Steve to rip on the haters without fear of his parents ire.

Thank you so much for all the love and support for this little story.

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10 Part 11 Part 12

****

Claudia was waiting at the Byers’ front door when Eddie pulled up in his van and Steve hopped out.

“Eddie!” she cried happily. “I didn’t know you were coming!”

“Hey, Mrs. H,” Eddie said with a wave. “I’m just dropping Stevie off. We’re hanging out later.”

“That was sweet of you, dear,” Claudia cooed.

Steve in the meantime was pulling things out of the backseat of the van. Eddie looked over at him.

“You need help, darlin’?” he asked over his shoulder.

Steve shook his head. “I’ve got it. Thank you, though.” In lower voice he muttered, “I love you and I’ll see you later.”

Eddie gave Steve’s forearm a squeeze and then waved at Claudia. He backed out of the driveway and was soon gone from sight.

“We’ve got all sorts of surprises for you today, Steve,” she said gleefully clapping her hands together.”

Steve grinned at her. “Mrs. Peterson here yet?”

Claudia shook her head. “She’s always at least fifteen minutes late. Something we were banking on actually.”

Steve cocked his head to the side. “What do you mean?”

But Claudia just ushered him inside. He set his stuff down and then handed her a tray.

“I made blondies,” he said, “I hope you ladies like them.”

She peeled back the foil and gasped. “Steve they look amazing!”

Joyce came out of the kitchen wiping her hands. “What looks amazing?” she asked peering over Claudia’s shoulder. She, too, gasped when she saw them. “Steve, you didn’t!”

Steve grinned. “Your sons always eat the ones I send home with them before they even get home, so I figured you’d appreciate these.”

She kissed his cheek. “You are a dear.”

Claudia laid them out on table next to all the other treats.

On the coffee table were a bunch of things under a large sheet with clowns on it.

“The three of us,” Karen began, “wanted to do something extra special for you after hearing what fun our children had at the Fair because you made sure they did. So we each contributed something toward your love of sewing.”

She lifted the sheet. Underneath was a beautiful sewing kit in navy blue, a light green Singer sewing machine that looked older than he was, and a stack of old patterns.

Steve’s lip wobbled as he raised his hand to his mouth in shock.

“You didn’t have to do this, ladies,” he whispered.

“The sewing kit is from me,” Karen continued. “It’s a beginner’s kit, but it has fabric scissors, a seam ripper, bobbins for your thread and different kinds of needles.”

Steve sat down and pulled it onto his lap. He opened it and as he lifted the lid, the top tray pulled back revealing the tray beneath. “Thank you.”

“The sewing machine,” Claudia said proudly, “is the first one I ever owned. When I got married I got a new one and I’ve been using that ever since. But this ol’ girl has a lot of love and life left in her, and I want you to have her.”

Steve looked up at her, tears forming in his eyes. “Aren’t you worried that I’ll break it? Or that my parents will find it and destroy it?”

Claudia knelt in front of him. “It’s gonna be kept at my house until you get a place of your own. You’re there all the time to see Dusty anyway, no one is going to notice that you’re there to sew now, too.”

“Plus,” Joyce said with a grin. “It’s a Singer. They’re a little hard to break. They’re one of the best machines and it will probably outlast your children. So don’t worry about it, okay?”

Steve nodded, his lip quivering. Claudia kissed his forehead and stood back up.

“The patterns are from me,” Joyce said. “Whenever I would have a little extra money I would pick up a pattern or two at the drug store and bring it home. I picked a handful that I thought you’d like since you’re primarily making costumes. And if those work for you, next week I’ll bring another handful you might like.”

Tears started flowing down his cheeks. “Thank you. All of you. This is best gift I’ve ever gotten.”

“Oh honey,” Joyce said softly and suddenly Steve was being hugged on all sides by the moms.

They stayed like that until there was a knock on the door.

“That must be Olive,” Claudia said with a sigh. “I bet she brought those brownies that are totally store bought even though she insists it her grandmother’s recipe.”

Steve snickered. “My mom used to do that. I don’t think she fooled anyone either.”

Joyce grinned over her shoulder as she went to go answer the door. “Olive, dear! We were just getting started.”

“Oh?” the bright voice on the other side of the door cooed. “You’re usually in the full swing of things by now.”

Steve bristled. That meant she knew she was late and was doing it intentionally. He hated people like that. Acting like the rest of them were peasants meant to be waiting on her.

“Steve was just showing us the costumes he made for the kids for the Fair over the weekend,” Karen said sweetly as Steve hurried to get the things he brought to show off out.

Olive stepped into the house with a sneer. “I think it’s so sweet you’re indulging the boy, but I doubt he can hold a candle to Claudia’s years of experience.”

Wow, Steve thought. Not only did she insult him, but she insinuated Claudia was old. What was with this old bag?

Claudia smirked. “It’s true that I’ve been doing it for longer, but Steve has a real talent for it. Come see.”

Olive walked into the front room and Steve was struck by how much she reminded him of his mother. She had perfectly curled hair with not a single strand out of place. Her clothes were fitted and showed off her figure. Her makeup was flawless.

In short, Steve hated her on sight.

Joyce handed her the shirt he had made for underneath his tunic. It was flawless but understated.

Olive took the shirt and scoffed. “You couldn’t have done this, Harrington, you shouldn’t lie to your betters.”

Steve was already seeing red. “I guess I’ll just have to prove it to you then.”

Joyce clapped her hands together. “All right, let’s get started. Steve, you can eat as much as you want, but just make sure to keep it away from other people’s projects.”

Steve smiled at her sweetly. “Of course!”

He knew that what she was really saying was that Olive Peterson might try something.

He sat in the armchair away from her and she glared at him.

“Is it all right if I work on my project first before you teach me how to use the sewing machine?” he asked just as she was taking a drink of punch.

Olive was forced to turn away and cough into her hand to avoid spraying everyone with the lemonade that Claudia had made.

Karen’s smile was feral. “I don’t see why that would be a problem, right, Claudia?”

“Of course not, Steve,” she replied warmly. “Just let me know when you want to learn and I’ll come over and help you.”

Steve nodded. He pulled out the materials that Eddie suggested he bring and got to work.

Eddie really liked that Steve’s bags had a lining because it protected the dice better, so Steve had brought along some materials he could use for that as well.

About halfway through his first bag, Joyce called out.

“Steve? What’s that pattern you’re putting on the bag?”

Steve’s eyes lit up. “It’s my signature! I embroider it on everything I do to make sure people can’t pass it off as their own.” He handed the bag over to her.

“Oh!” she cried in excitement. “This is the design you put on Will and El’s costumes when you did their alterations, right?”

Steve nodded. “I hope you don’t mind. I know you made the clothes, but I thought it was a cute way to tie the two together like they were twins.”

“It was perfect,” Joyce said. “El still hasn’t stopped talking about how pretty your design made the dress.”

Steve blushed as he took the pouch back from her.

“I was talking to someone at the Renaissance Fair,” he said shyly, “and she wanted me make them clothes and things that she would sell for me. She even told me to make business cards in case someone wanted to commission me directly.”

“Oh Steve!” Karen cried. “That’s wonderful!” She clapped her hands together and tilted her head. “I have to admit I’m a little jealous. That pattern is beautiful. I would love a handkerchief with that on it.”

Steve straightened up. “Yeah?”

Karen nodded.

“What color would you like?” he asked excitedly.

Karen tried to protest but he wouldn’t let her. In fact he managed to convince all but Olive to let him make them one for them.

It did, unfortunately take him to the end of the two hours, but he was excited to come next week.

“I’ll even host it at my place!” he said with a grin.

Olive sputtered. “Well I won’t be there if it’s at this young man’s house. That’s so inappropriate.”

The three other ladies looked at each other and then shrugged.

“Your loss,” Karen said dryly.

Olive stormed out of the house vowing that as long as Steve was part of the group she would never come back.

“Well that is a relief,” Joyce said, “I’m not the kind to speak ill of anyone, but we really got quite the upgrade!”

Karen clapped her hands. “Indeed. I can’t wait for next week. I’ve got a new project I’m starting and I found the best recipe for a chocolate mousse that I’ve been dying to try out.”

“Same time next week, ladies?” Steve asked.

“Wouldn’t miss it for the world,” Claudia agreed.

Then there came a loud honk.

Steve looked out the window and smiled. “Looks like my ride is here.”

He gather up his stuff, including the patterns and sewing kit and walked out to Eddie’s van.

He slid into the front seat.

“You have fun today, sweetheart?” Eddie asked, pulling out of the driveway.

“Yeah,” Steve said looking fondly at the house. “This has been the best weekend ever.”

Eddie grinned. “Well, it’s about to get even better, just wait to you see what I have planned for us today.”

Steve smiled as Eddie regaled him with his plans and nodded along.

Life was really looking up. He had a platonic soulmate, good friends, an amazing boyfriend, a hobby he enjoyed and could make real money from, and now a group of people to share that hobby with each week.

And to think it all started with a flier about the Renaissance Fair coming back to Hawkins.

“I can’t wait,” he breathed once Eddie was done.

Eddie smiled that sweet smile at always turned Steve’s insides to mush.

Yeah, Steve could honestly say that he was happy.

****

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@dauntlessdiva @vampire-eddie-brain-rot @lololol-1234 @nightmareglitter @cryptid-system

[alisonsfics]

revenge kiss

pairing: coworker! tony dinozzo x reader

summary: sometimes the only way to get revenge on your asshole boyfriend is to make out with your coworker

word count: 2.4k

“You’re in a good mood, Tony.” You said, as you watched Tony practically skip to his desk. He looked over at you and shot you his signature wink. “I’m always in a good mood when I’m around you,” he jokingly flirted. You laughed off his workplace flirting. You’d come to expect it after working with him for five years.

“While I am a delight, you seem more energetic than normal.” You explained. He shrugged while setting his backpack down behind his desk. He made his way towards your desk and sat on the side of it.

“Maybe because tonight is the annual NCIS rager, and I finally convinced the whole team to go. Which you’re not allowed to back out of, by the way.” He told you, making sure you didn’t bail like the last four times.

“No, I know. A promise is a promise. Pete and I will be there. But to be fair, it’s basically an overcompensated mixer at a random agent’s house. But I will be there because I promised you I would.” You told him. Pete was another NCIS agent that you had been dating for the last four months.

“That sounds like I owe you,” Tony noticed.

“That is correct. You owe me big time. I’m not saving your ass from Gibbs until you make it up to me.” You told him. Tony chuckled to himself, knowing just how often you saved him from Gibbs’ wrath.

“Just say the word, and I’ll make it up to you right now, if you want.” He whispered, sending you a wink. You just giggled to yourself. “An intriguing offer. I’ll think about it, Dinozzo.” You teased.

He stood up and returned to his own desk. “You know where to find me,” he teased, sitting down.

You both made it through the rest of the day. Your shifts were about to be over, but Gibbs was interrogating a suspect and needed evidence before the FBI showed up to transfer him.

“Alright, baby, you ready to leave?” Pete asked, walking towards your desk as you, Tony, and McGee were furiously typing. “Not right now,” you mumbled, trying to stay focused.

“We have to leave for that party.” Pete reminded you.

“I know that. We have 10 minutes to get Gibbs the evidence he needs before the FBI shows up. So be patient,” you snapped at him.

Across the squad room, you saw Tony smirk to himself as you put Pete in his place. Tony didn’t love Pete. Pete was impatient and wasn’t always friendly with the other agents. Tony had disliked him way before you two starting dating.

After a few minutes of silence, Pete was growing more impatient. “Okay, c’mon, baby,” Pete rushed you.

Before you could say anything, Tony butted in. “Pete, my guy, stop acting like an asshole. Unlike you, we’re actually doing our jobs. So, unless you’re gonna help, leave her alone.” Tony told him.

Pete was left stunned that Tony didn’t stay out of it. Pete sulked away, going to wait in the break room.

“Thank you,” you said, giving Tony a smile. He nodded his head.

“You did say I owed you,” Tony teased, making you roll your eyes.

Tony’s phone rang, causing you all to jump. “Dinozzo,” he quickly answered the phone.

There a few seconds of silence and then “alright,” and Tony hung up the phone. “FBI’s in the lobby. You almost got those coordinates, McGee?” Tony asked.

“Ten seconds,” McGee called out. If it was possible, McGee started typing faster. “Oh, and Tony?” You said.

“Yes?” He asked, quickly glancing up at you. “That doesn’t count as your favor. Nice try,” you corrected him.

“I don’t know what you mean. I still got my mind on making it up to you that other way.” He said, winking at you again.

“I got it. We’re good.” McGee announced. You all sighed and leaned back from your computers. “Wait…what’re you guys talking about?” McGee asked, questioning Tony’s previous comment.

“Timmy, the adults were talking. We’ll tell you when you’re older.” Tony teased. You choked on your water and tried to not spit it everywhere.

“Don’t let Pete hear you, Tony. Not everyone gets your strange sense of humor.” McGee told him as you left to get Pete from the break room.

You all went home to get ready for the party. Tony had offered to be the designated driver for you, Pete, McGee, and Ziva. So, at 7:30pm, you heard a knock on your door.

“Pete, they’re here.” You called out, waiting for Pete to grab his phone and wallet.

You swung the door open and saw Tony standing outside. You watched Tony’s eyes look you up and down. “You always clean up real nice,” he complimented you.

“Thank you, Tony,” you said, giving him a quick hug.

“C’mon, Pete, let’s go. Have you seen how nice your girlfriend looks? You do not want her to go to this party without you.” Tony yelled into your apartment, rushing Pete.

You lightly smacked Tony’s arm. “Tony, shut up. Pete’s gonna be pissed at you.” You whispered yelled at him. He chuckled and shrugged.

Pete came rushing out of your apartment. “You wanna stop hitting on my girlfriend, Dinozzo?” Pete snapped, forcefully pulling you into his side.

“Tony’s just kidding. It’s fine,” you assured him as you all headed to the car. Pete opened your door for you and let you slide into the middle seat, next to McGee. Ziva was in the front, and then Pete sat next to you.

“Hi, Ziva. You look amazing.” You complimented her. She quickly thanked you and you said hi to McGee.

You opened your phone and sent Ziva a text: “Tony and Pete are already getting on each other’s nerves. It’s gonna be a long night. Gonna have to keep them separated.”

You watched her try to hide her laugh as she read your text. After a few seconds, your phone lit up with a response.

“You have all the men fighting over you. I hate to say it about poor Pete, but he deserves Tony making him feel a little jealous.” She responded.

After you got to the party, Pete wandered off to talk to some of the agents on his team. To be fair, Pete hung out with the four of you a lot, and it must have been tough to be the outsider. But he could have introduced you to his friends, instead of leaving you alone.

“Has he even introduced you to any of his friends?” McGee asked you, curiously. You shook your head, looking at the floor. The four of you headed to the bar.

“In all seriousness, if you want me to talk to him, I will. It feels like he’s not putting in a lot of effort.” Tony told you. He wrapped his arm around your shoulder and let you rest your head on him.

“He means well,” you defended Pete, even though sometimes you didn’t want to. “That doesn’t mean he can’t do better.” Ziva added, with a knowing glance.

The four of you stuck together for most of the night. You barely saw Pete. You had gotten a little tipsy after a while. Tony kept himself to one beer since he was the designated driver.

You all were listening to Ziva tell a funny story about her childhood when cheering erupted behind you.

You saw a big group of some of the single agents pulling out a board game. “What is that about?” You asked, looking over at Tony, who had a look of dread on his face.

“It’s a game some of the single guys made up. They mashed every high school party game together, you know, spin the bottle, seven minutes in heaven. It’s normally just the single agents that are lonely.” Tony explained.

You all noticed Pete’s presence in the circle. “Then why is Pete there?” Ziva asked the question you were all thinking.

You stormed over towards him. Tony and Ziva followed behind you, sensing you might need backup.

“Pete? The hell? You’re seriously playing?” You asked him. He looked over his shoulder at you and shrugged. “It’s just a game, sweetheart.” He said, condescendingly.

You scoffed and rolled your eyes. “Okay, then I’ll join you.” You said, sitting down beside him. Tony sat down next to you, trying to support you. Ziva would’ve rather died than kissed any of those guys, so she returned to stand with McGee.

Pete went first. The premise of the game involved spinning two wheels to pick what game you had to play and a person to play it with.

Pete spun both the wheels, completely unaware of the glare he was getting from you. It landed on spin the bottle and Grace, who was a new recruit at NCIS. She was barely 23 years old.

“You gotta be kidding me,” you mumbled to yourself. Tony patted your back, trying to calm you down. It didn’t work.

“You want me to say something?” Tony whispered. You simply shook your head. He could tell from the way your jaw was clenched that you were beyond pissed.

Pete walked over to the other side of the circle and kissed her. It was just a peck on the lips, but the fact that he was acting like a child made your blood boil.

You decided to go next to get back at Pete. You spun the wheels and waited to see what your revenge would be. It landed on seven minutes in heaven. The other spinner kept going, very slowly coming to a stop. It landed on Tony.

“You’re not actually gonna…” Pete started to ask you. You rolled your eyes. “It’s just a game, sweetheart,” you threw his previous words back in his face.

“We don’t have to do this to get back at him.” Tony whispered, trying to reason with you. He jokingly flirted with you all the time, but when it came to real boundaries, he wouldn’t do anything you weren’t okay with.

You stood up, grabbing Tony’s hands and pulling him to his feet. You grabbed his arm and pulled him behind you. “C’mon, Dinozzo,” you said, going over to the spare closet in the living room.

You opened the door and stepped inside. You caught a glimpse of Pete’s shocked face as you grabbed Tony by his collar and pulled him inside with you. Someone shut the door behind the two of you.

“You don’t have to go through with this if—” Tony started to tell you, but you interrupted him by pulling him towards you and kissing him.

His instincts took over since he’d always dreamed about what it’d be like to kiss you. He let his fingers rake through your hair as you furiously kissed him. You ran your fingers over his chest.

Tony pulled away, trying to put some space between the two of you. “What about Pete? We can’t…we shouldn’t,” he mumbled, trying to reason with you.

You shook your head, pulling him back towards you. “Me and Pete are over. He’s such a moron. Don’t worry about him,” you assured Tony. He didn’t kiss you yet.

“And you’re thinking straight and this isn’t the alcohol talking?” He double checked. You quickly nodded your head. “I’ve wanted this for so long. Why do you think Pete’s so jealous of you? He knew I had a little thing for you and you treat me better than he does.” You explained.

Just like that, Tony was back all over you. He grabbed your hips and pushed you against the wall. There was no space between you two. Your fingers fiddled with his shirt buttons, having a hard time unbuttoning them in the dark.

The years of unspoken feelings and long stakeouts had finally caught up to you both. You both couldn’t ignore the way that your eyes always lingered on each other.

“You look so gorgeous tonight, like a goddess,” Tony mumbled against your lips. His hands were back in your hair, cupping the back of your head. You couldn’t get his shirt off, so you left it on but unbuttoned.

You ran your fingers over his bare chest, noticing how he shivered under your touch. You pulled away so you could take a breath, and Tony wasted no time burying his face in your neck.

He started lightly sucking on your skin. A soft whimper came out of your lips, and you felt Tony’s hips buck against yours. “Sound like an angel,” he praised you.

You pulled him back up to kiss you. His tongue effortlessly slipped into your mouth.

You hiked one of your legs up around his waist. Tony picked up on the hint and grabbed the back of your thighs and picked you up. You wrapped your legs around his waist.

The door flew open. Both of you were too distracted to even notice.

“Times up, you asshole,” It was Pete, and he grabbed Tony by his arm and threw him out of the closet.

“Oh, but we were just starting to have a good time,” Tony whined, knowing exactly how to push Pete’s buttons. Tony knew he was yours now, so he had no reason to hold back around Pete.

Pete looked between the two of you, looking at Tony’s unbuttoned shirt and your smudged lipstick. Pete knew he had pissed you off, but he still didn’t expect to walk in on you making out with your coworker.

“What’s wrong, Petey? Thought it was just a game?” Tony asked, cocking his head to the side.

Pete pushed Tony backwards, his face turning red. “You think you can talk to me like that after you shoved your tongue down my girlfriend’s throat.” Pete yelled.

Tony looked around and shrugged. “She wasn’t exactly complaining,” Tony said, earning a giggle out of you.

“Fuck you, Dinozzo,” Pete yelled, swinging a punch at Tony, but Tony dodged it. You noticed the cocky smirk on Tony’s face, and you knew he was about to piss Pete off even more.

“I won’t have to, she’ll be doing that later,” he said, sending a wink towards you. Pete shoved Tony into the wall behind you. “You are a piece of shit, Dinozzo. You know that?” Pete asked him.

“Yeah, I’ve been told that before, but some people love it.” He said, looking over at you as you walked over towards them.

“Leave him alone, Pete.” You demanded. Pete scoffed, rolling his eyes. “You’re defending this douchebag? You’re my girlfriend,” Pete argued.

“Yeah, not anymore,” you said, grabbing Tony’s hand and pulling him towards the door. “Bye bye Petey,” Tony said, waving over his shoulder as you both left.

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[pickingupmymercedes]

Under an Ipê tree - Lewis Hamilton

The three times your annual visit to Senna’s tomb brought something different

pairing: Lewis Hamilton x Senna! Reader

warnings: mentions of death, mourning, AD 21', Lewis at Ferrari (rubbing salt into every open wound apparently)

wordcount: +1k

a/n: Not gonna lie, started this one with something in mind and it took a life of its own. I know Senna! Reader isn't everyone's cup of tea, so please, proceed with caution, because there is mention to real events and real emotions envolved with mourning. Also, AD 21', I'm sure as hell not over that, so here's another trigger warning.

a/n. 2: Those trees are how pink Ipês look in blossom, I know Brasil is not known for its colder months but those beauties come alive after the few cold weeks.

_______________________________________

Like most traditions it started without any intent on actually becoming a thing. You and Lewis would take a couple hours off on Wednesdays before the Brazilian GP every year, the destination a known one to everyone in the paddock. It was a journey you used to do by yourself until Lewis had been the brave, and first one, to ask you if he could tag along. He’d been to Senna’s tomb before, you knew that much, but the respect and adoration he held for your late father had you deciding he should be good company.

_______________________________________

“I swear I had never seen my mom angrier. Can you imagine her with the speaker at Interlagos shouting to everyone with an ear that I shouldn’t be racing and if anything happened Ayrton was to blame cause I wasn’t even old enough to be there” You told a laughing Lewis while remembering when your father faked an ID so he could sneak you to the track and teach you how to race in your brand new - Mclaren themed – kart. A Christmas gift he went out of his way to get to the famous Brazilian track circuit in time to open day.

“You know, my favorites snippets of his life are the ones you talk about, Sundays at the pool, ice cream dates, kart running without your mom knowing. Whenever someone talks about him it’s always about his wins, his hardships, his cars and battles … it’s almost as if he didn’t exist beyond formula 1, like we froze just a fraction of him and forgot all about the rest.” 

You smiled at him, you liked how Lewis never questioned your feelings towards f1’s out of this world idolatry on your father, mainly because at the end of the day, to your 8 year old past self, Ayrton was first and foremost “pai”, the dude that thought you not to be afraid by throwing you into the ocean when no one was looking, the one that cooked instant noodles for dinner in spite of your mom’s pleads, the one that constantly tried to show you that love is a feeling we should act upon in the present and never wait for a so promised tomorrow.

“He would’ve liked you I think… would’ve hated to race you, for sure. But as a person, he would have probably seen you as one of the good ones, pointing out bullshit, fighting fia every chance you get, protecting the guys back at the garage, focusing on racing and not talking, looking out for everyone.” You answered truthly, as he respectfully held his hands behind his back looking at the tomb stone, while you casually sat in the edge of the stone, almost too comfortable around the place from all the visits you’ve done over the years.

“I think you should meet Galisteu someday, she’ll have way more interesting stories about him to tell you than I do.” You absentmindedly noted, remembering all she’s told you about your father, this other side to him you never got the time to see.

“Nah… we’re our truest around kids, his best version was the one you got to see. Now, what was that time he sneaked a stray dog onto your apartment?” he asked while reaching for your shoulder so you both could walk along the path back to the car awaiting to take you both back.

_______________________________________

“I don’t think I really remember the sound of his voice” you sighed looking up at the Ipê tree just beside the tomb. You had shown Lewis a photo of what it looked like once in full blossom before, in the Brazilian winter, and he promised you he would eventually find the time to come see it in its full glory in late June.

The walk in the cemetery, the light hearted banter, him opening his heart on dreams and the future and the confessions you would eventually make to Lewis about Ayrton were part of the annual occurrence you had both unspokenly agreed on, but that one line seemed to have hit him hard enough he just motioned you to go on, no answers or remarks. 

“I mean, I know what his voice sounds like because there’s a thousand and one interviews with him, but I don’t think I can truly remember what he sounded like in real life … how he talked to me.” You explained it further, now looking at the Briton.

He engulfed you in a hug, the kind only he knew how, your tears leaving marks on his shoulders. You would rarely cry over anything related to your father, at least not in front of people anyway, but Lewis was… well, Lewis. You and Niki were the one who pushed, like hell, to sign him to Mercedes back in 2014 against everyone’s better judgment, and while you knew he would be every bit the driver and phenomenon he was, neither of you anticipated the friendship that came out of seeing him almost every GP you attended. A relationship that had crept its own way into your hearts, slowly allowing to see each other as something more than just good friends.

“He’s proud of you, wherever he is. I know that much” He whispered, leaving a soft kiss to your temple and bringing you even closer to his body.

_______________________________________

“He would’ve crashed into Verstappen back in 2021, wouldn’t he?” He prompted out of nowhere, gazing seriously at the tomb as you observed him pondering over the possible outcomes of a race that, like a ghost, had been following him nonstop, specially with the São Paulo GP fast approaching and with it his chances of securing his 8th title, two races before the end of the season.

“Start another Senna vs. Prost ?! ” You thought out loud, trying to read into his expressions and mannerisms, a talent of his you weren’t quite as good.

“Maybe I should’ve done it”

“You’re not like that Lew. You’re you and no one, not a single person, wants someone else” Your exasperation clear in your voice, hands reaching for his chin as his eyes locked into yours and he nodded, an unspoken agreement between the two of you, one you had to hammer into his head from time to time, that he may have Ayrton as his idol but he was just as much of an icon to the sport, and to a million of kids out there.

“On Sunday you’re going to reach that top step in your red suit, fulfill Ayrton’s dream and claim a championship for Ferrari. You. Not him, nor anyone else” and come the end of the race, he did just that. Smiling down at the sea of people in a mix of old Mercedes merchs and new Ferrari ones, dedicating his trophy to all the other people who believed in the impossible with him. 

[artyandink]

amoralism | three

Summary: You and Dean Winchester are the top agents from Major Crimes. You’re also assigned as partners on the same case- a crime syndicate is running loose and buying out most of downtown New York. He hates you cause you hate him. You hate him cause you think he got in his position with his daddy’s influence. But this case is personal to one of you more than the other- and you may be getting too personal for comfort.

TW: Organised crime, hostage situation, crime syndicate, sexual tension, fantasising, blood, firearms, references to sex, masturbation (use of vibrator and fingers) Agent Dean Winchester (yes, he’s a warning), hostage situation, crazy aunt and uncle

SERIES MASTERLIST

Song Inspo: Under the Influence - Chris Brown

cynicism

After you and Dean were out of the auction house safely, you found yourself getting a call from Sam, which had you wondering if the FBI kept cameras on you two to see if you’d finally given into the copious amounts of sexual tension.

“Agent Winchester.” You cleared your throat, wiping your smeared lipstick off with a makeup wipe. “Talk to me.”

‘We have a situation down on 7th.’ You heard him sigh out, and you could feel the forehead rub through the phone like it was your own. ‘Hostage situation. Our syndicate’s mark is on the front of the bank. You and Dean are the only two units in the area.’

“We’ll see what we can do.” You nodded, saying a quick goodbye before cutting the call and turning to Dean. “We have a situation.”

Dean perked up, stopping his boots from scuffing against the floor in wait. “Did Sammy pee himself? If so, we’re no longer brothers, he hadn’t done that since ninth grade.”

“What?! No!” You scoffed, pinching the bridge between your eyebrows. “Bank on 7th, it’s a hostage situation. Your brother needs us on the scene.”

“Oh, right.” He cleared his throat. “But we’re in, y’know, party clothes.”

“Oh, we’ll get a bulletproof vest, let’s just go.” You groaned, getting in the Impala, while he ran to the driver’s seat, getting in and the purr of Baby’s engine filling the empty street, tires screeching as you both drove off.

You and Dean walked up to the scene of the hostage situation, dressed in your party attire like a couple of melons, but you didn’t exactly bring a change of clothes in the Impala.

That’s why the cops looked sceptical until the badges came out from your thigh holster (Dean didn’t miss the way the guy at the caution tape looked at your bare thigh peeking out from the slit as you got your badge) and the inside pocket of Dean’s suit jacket.

“Well, I’ll tell you somethin’, agents, we’d need special forces in there.” Detective Quixley sighed, shaking his head. “Our criminals are in with the hostages. Refuse to come out, wanna keep an eye on ‘em. They threatened to empty their clips if SWAT stormed the building, and they have men on every exit.”

“They’re meticulous. Know what they’re doin’.” Dean sighed, fixing his cuffs. “We just came from an undercover gig. The lady and I can handle it, but we need bulletproof vests, refill clips and guns with attack damage and horsepower.”

“The recoil is gonna be pretty strong on those ones.”

“We don’t give a damn about recoil.” You cut in, strictly business now that you were on the scene. It was remarkable, how quickly you and Dean could switch. “The guns. And the vests. Quick.”

The tone you were using put some R-rated thoughts in his head, but he shook it off and plastered a smile just as Detective Quixley went away to arrange the guns and vests for the both of you.

“So authoritative.” Dean murmured to you in a lilting tone, a crap-eating grin on his face. “If you weren’t FBI, you’d make a good chef. Barking out orders-”

“Shut up or I’ll kick you where the sun don’t shine.”

“See? God, such a tightly-wound coil. You should release some of that tension. I’ve got a Thai place.” He chuckled under his breath, smirking. “Got a hand of glory there.”

“Workplace boundaries.” You groaned, holding a hand up to his face with disgust. “Really, TMI.”

“We broke workplace boundaries five years ago, sweetheart.” He quipped as you two received NYPD vests, strapping them on. “Well, sort of. We didn’t even breach first base.”

You scoffed, rolling your eyes. “My job depended on first base. I’m not throwing that away for your dumb ass.”

“You wound me.”

“Good.”

You and Dean made your way to the bank’s easiest to access exit that wasn’t the front door, the sound of pacing footsteps telling you there was only one guy.

Your guns held ready, adrenaline pumping through your veins as you both made hand gestures to each other that made absolutely no sense.

You had to abandon all sense of hand signatures altogether.

You’d been much more in sync with the older Winchester five years ago. Before both of you had risen up the ranks. Where you were a growing Major Crimes agent and he worked Narcotics, and the two jurisdictions had to cross.

You two had definitely gotten along better then.

With the whiskey, the laughs, bonding over little siblings, the wet dreams, the near-kisses, the hot sexual tension that threatened to burst.

It’s like meeting after those years had cut the first part and left the second. Only the second.

The second part left you at odds, desperately trying to resist each other and overall frustrated from lack of contact. The contact you almost had five years ago.

God, there’s a hostage situation. Keep it together.

After a fairly obvious mouthing of the word ‘GO’ (Dean’s aggressive mouthing made it seem to be in capitals), you rushed in, grabbing the guard from behind with your arm around his neck so Dean could move in to knock him out.

The guard went limp, eyes rolling back and half lidded as you lowered him with a soft huff of breath as to not alert anyone else. Taking his walkie and his gun.

Dean Winchester laying someone out really did look sexy.

You continued on to the next room, this time Dean holding the guy to allow you to give him an early bedtime. Dean squatted, taking the walkie and gun, storing it in a thigh holster he’d procured.

Is it wrong to feel envious of a thigh holster?

Probably. But you couldn’t ignore the way that thing practically hugged the powerful muscle.

Your eyes even landed on the pout of his lips, the undeniably hot glint in his eyes as he looked down on the unconscious gang member.

“You ok?” You asked while Dean regained a steady breathing pattern, recovering from the onslaught of adrenaline while you did the same.

“Yeah. You?” You didn’t get the chance to answer that, feeling a bat-shaped impact on your back shoulder, sending you crashing to the floor. By the sounds of it, the SWAT team had taken advantage of the brief moment of weakness to storm the room containing the hostages and getting them out.

While you held your shoulder with a low groan, then attempting to push yourself back up, you saw a red headed woman swinging said bat for kicks while approaching Dean. Leather jacket, red-painted lips, leather pants and heeled boots.

She either completely disregarded necessary fighting clothes or she didn’t need them to beat your asses.

“Cheap shot.” You murmured, wincing at feeling tender skin under your vest. That would probably bruise bad, cold compress be damned.

Dean went down easily after a few parried shots from the lady, one leg swept from under him so he stumbled to his knees, her smoothing back his hair and grabbing the short strands in her fist, dropping the bat and grabbing his collar with the other. His hand flew to cover hers, a weak attempt to stop her from doing anything more.

“Dean Winchester.” She practically purred, her thumb rubbing circles into her scalp while she grinned, tongue tracing her teeth. “Famed daddy’s boy. Never thought I’d see the day.”

Dean smiled as cocky as he could while being womanhandled, chuckling. “Oh, I’m famous.”

“I had fun messing with John’s head.” She smirked, tilting her head. “He caved. I wonder if you will. It’s so… satisfying… when they do.” She added that in a murmur, trailing a painted finger down his jaw, having released his collar. “Be a good boy and let this one go for me. Or I could grab my knife, carve out a chunk of that pretty neck and see where it gets you.”

Dean’s eyes flickered to you, struggling to get up behind this random chick, wincing at the pain in your shoulder that you had a hand trying to stabilise, and realised he needed to stall. “Are you gonna kill me or are we gonna make out? Cause I’m gettin’ very mixed signals here.”

“Always such a flirt, aren’t you?” Whoever-This-Lady-Is chuckled, then smirked. “Who would I be if I didn’t introduce myself? Abaddon, handsome. The Knights of Hell say hi-” She was whipped around by you, the fist on your injured shoulder’s side connecting with her jaw. Abaddon’s head snapped to the side for a moment, but then you received the same treatment, your hand reaching to gingerly touch the corner of your mouth and wiping blood from the offending area.

Ah, Jesus.

“Really?” She raised an eyebrow, scoffing lightly. “Thought that’d do something?”

“Made you look.” You grinned, and Dean sprang into action, clamping metal handcuffs around her wrists after drawing them together. Abaddon looked up at you in shock and horror, which prompted you to use your good arm to help Dean push her down to the floor and keep her still.

“FBI.” Dean growled lowly, the timbre of voice sending a jolt through you (not the time, get your act together-) as you forced Abaddon to stop struggling and just lay still. “You’re under arrest.”

“I had that under control.”

That was all Dean could say as you held the cold compress to the back of your shoulder, wincing every time it shifted and put more strain on the bruised skin as you sat at the end of an ambulance. It made your blood boil.

“Gee, no problem for saving your ass.” You drawled back, rolling your eyes, which had Dean shifting uncomfortably before scoffing.

“I could take her.”

Your eyebrow raised to your hairline at that. “You mean the woman who- let’s see - had you by your hair and giving you some weirdly sexual innuendos? Yeah, you had it under control. And you can clearly take her one on one.”

Dean couldn’t help but note the sarcasm dripping off your words, and folded his arms with yet another light scoff. He deserved more respect in that regard. He was one of the best of Major Crimes.

He’d cuffed this supposed Knight of Hell.

“Shut up. What are you even doing, huh? First day working this organised crime thing and you’re already busted in the shoulder.”

“I’m doing my job!” You scoffed, holding the compress over your shoulder. It hurt to move it, honestly, but you’d rather take a banged up shoulder rather than Dean Winchester scolding you.

“And I’m not?” He retorted, hands on his hips. “We’re working this case together.”

“The only reason you’re even in Major Crimes is because daddy dearest pulled some strings.” You seethed, which had Dean bristling.

“That’s not how it went.”

“Then how?”

“What happened, princess, is that yes, my dad was your old CO.” Dean folded his arms, bulging biceps straining against the fabric of his suit sleeve as he did. Your eyes flicked to them, that spark of anger quenching for a moment before forcefully reigniting. “But I worked to get to the Major Crimes unit on my own. Just like Sammy did. Believe it or not, I ain’t just a pretty face.”

“And a hot ass.” A female police officer around your age purred in Dean’s ear as she went by, slapping said ‘hot ass’ firmly.

Dean’s eyes followed her own for a moment before he smacked down his tendencies for the sake of winning an argument.

“Emma. Old hookup.” He cleared his throat, then huffed out a breath. “There’s a point to where I’m goin’ with this. For us to work this case, sweetheart?” He gestured between you and him. “We need to sort whatever this is… out.”

“Last time I checked, we didn’t reach that point five years ago. Working this same case.” You deadpanned, your hand tightening on the compress. “I’d argue there’s nothing to sort out.”

“And if I say there is?”

“You know I never answered to you.”

His hands went on his hips. “Yeah, cause you’re Agent Know-It-All.”

“Finally, you’re catching on.” You quipped back, earning an eye roll from his part.

Like you mentioned earlier, the lack of whiskey fuelled bonding and laughing about sibling dynamics really takes a toll on a relationship built solely on how bad you wanna bang each other.

By God, Dean was hot when he was angry.

He was about to retort to your retaliation with equal snark when you heard your name being called from a distance. Your eyes locked on the guy, and a wide grin spread on your face. “Nicky?”

“Querida!” Sergeant Nick Santiago - and your cousin - approached you and gave you a tender hug (he was mindful of the bruise), laughing. “Oh, long time no see. And I love seeing that adorable face.” He pinched your chin affectionately. Nick was five years older than you, hence the smothering affection.

“Shuddup, you’re adorable.” You swatted his shoulder with a snort.

“No, me? I’m… ruggedly handsome.” Then he took your good shoulder. “Hey, I’m gonna need you to check on Aunt Lucy and Uncle Ernie. You know how it is, they’re insane if not handled and I think Aunt Lucy is getting into the tarot cards again.”

You huffed out a disgruntled breath, your nose scrunching up briefly in disgruntlement. Dean noticed, and stopped giving Nick a green-eyed-monster fuelled look to shoot you a genuine smile. “And last time those cards were used, Ernie was suspicious of everything.” You sighed, nodding. “Yeah, I’ll see if I can talk sense into them.”

“They always listen to you. Even if I’m the older one.”

“That’s cause I’m the favourite. But, seriously, I’ll have a look into it.”

Would you go to hell for this? Even worse, get fired?

Yeah, most likely.

Unprofessionalism only could reach an all time high when you found yourself alone in your bedroom, scissoring yourself open, one hand above your head and gripping the headboard, the other very obviously between your legs.

One foot flat on the mattress. The other leg stretched out on the bed, your sweats abandoned somewhere you didn’t bother to note.

Jaw slack, brow furrowed and eyes closed, vivid tapes of Dean’s mouth and fingers working you over playing on your closed eyelids. The tantalising, fabricated images having his name rolling off your tongue.

“I think you’re lookin’ gorgeous, princess.” He murmured, nose nuzzling your cheek as his finger trailed up your neck to gently cup your jaw, your back pressed firmly against his taut chest. Cupping your chin possessively while you didn’t lift your own finger to stop him, instead watched in the mirror while he drew you further into his dizzying arms. Interrupted only by the ring of Dean’s phone.

“Right there, Dean-” You cut yourself off with a moan, hips bucking against nothing, but letting your fingers brush your g-spot as they spread you open, “just like that.” Your hand released the headboard, your back arching and your planted foot allowing you to grind desperately against your own hand, catching your clit on the heel of your palm. While that newly released hand fumbled for your bedside drawer.

Said drawer was clumsily opened, your hand delving in and closing around something that had you screaming ‘bingo’ in your head and pulling your fingers out, leaving you empty and whining for more despite you being in control.

You could practically hear Dean telling you to take those fingers into your mouth and suck ‘em clean, but you decided to wait for that effortlessly sexy moment.

Wait for the real thing.

Dean thought he had you pinned on the mat, your hands trapped above your head in one of his, both your chests heaving after a long sparring session. His eyes flickering down to yours. “How’s that for a newbie, hm, sweetheart?” You smirked, and decided to answer by quickly using your legs to flip the position. You ended up on top, straddling his hips, and his hands held yours with a breathless chuckle and a possessive grip.

You flicked a switch on your vibrating dildo, your thighs twitching at the sound of the humming until you held them apart with your hand that was occupied prior to that moment, starting to push the toy in inch by inch.

“Dean,” You moaned, then cursed some very Jesus-disapproved words as the vibrations straight invaded your every sense, sending you straight to cloud nine.

Unprofessional, sure, but you didn’t regret a damn thing.

Once the dildo was all the way in- damn, you’d never been that full. And you welcomed the familiar buzz that took control of your ever action and had you grinding forward, pushing the toy in and out and meeting the self-orchestrated thrusts, knowing internally Dean would do it ten times better.

If not an FBI agent, he’d be a musician. Because he’d play you like a fine-tuned virtuoso violin.

“We… can’t.” You could feel his breath against yours. Your hand in his hair while the pads of his fingers put pressure on your waist through your blouse. Soft growls at the end of his every retrained pant as he resisted throwing you down onto that table and giving in to his primal urges. Damn, you brought the caveman out in him. One hand reached up to cup your cheek firmly, biting his plump bottom lip that you wanted to bite and suck on until it was swollen. “But… if we take five minutes. Just to take the edge off.”

Your free hand found your clit, rubbing in calculated, well-learned circles, paired with pleas of ‘Dean, right there’ and ‘don’t stop’ leaving your mouth, wishing it was his cock in you and not a piece of silicone.

Even if it did the job for now.

You worked yourself over and over, making yourself come over and over, climax after climax crashing down on your stressed, sexually pent up body until you were lying limp on the mattress, having lost count of how many times you’d said his name.

Dean.

Ah, home sweet home.

“Niñita!” Uncle Ernie cackled in happiness upon seeing you at the door, Dean with you since he had been working the case with you and had agreed to accompany you to see your mom’s Uncle Ernie. He gave a hearty pat on the back, ushering you in. “Adelante, adelante.” His eyes locked on Dean. “Who’s this?”

“Dean Winchester, sir.” Dean introduced with a swallow, which had Ernie’s mouth grimacing slightly.

“You could do better, mi diamante.” He complained in his Spanish accent and gravelly, grating tones.

“¡Ernesto, detente!” Aunt Lucy chastised, sashaying into the hallway with her bright, tortoise coloured shawl over her shoulders. “Es un chico muy guapo. Podría comérmelo.” That last part had your eyebrow raising to your hairline, while Dean got the message from the way Lucy practically purred at him and looked over his physique.

Ernie and Lucy themselves were quite the match.

Lucy, or Lucía in Spain or Spanish/Latino/anything native to the language’s company was tall- not as tall as Dean - with grey hair obviously styled by a hairdryer and rollers. She had blue eyes that matched her peacock personality, flaunting everything and her eyes looking everywhere on the nearest attractive single man’s body. Sometimes she didn’t know if a man was single and didn’t care otherwise. Dean was her unfortunate target today.

Ernie, otherwise called Ernesto, was a short man (Think Danny DeVito short), with thinning white hairs that was more bare skin than white fluff. He had a black, faux-fur robe with hot dogs on and mid-thigh length neon yellow shorts that would probably send a breeze up there if the wind blew around his ankles. Which were bare and clad in flip flops. Under the robe, he wore a ribbed white tank top. A chocolate granola bar stain on his cheek, and a disgruntled grimace stretching his white goatee-surrounded mouth as he looked up at Dean.

You knew they were an odd combination, especially with Ernie’s scepticism with everything they wasn’t his family.

“Ay, dios mío.” You pinched the bridge of your nose, clearing your throat. “Tía abuela-”

“Ay, no, es solo la tía.” Lucía waved you off, then smirked something sultry at Dean. “I’m the ripe old age of fifty, you know.”

You scoffed, hands on your hips. “Tienes setenta y seis años!”

“Arruinas mi diversión. Estuve a punto de pasar una noche en la cama con él.” She gave Dean a very obvious once over. And it put unholy images in your head. God bless innocence.

“Uf, no.” You groaned, trying to rub the images out of your head with two fingers at your temple as you all made your way into the kitchen. “Just… that’s not why I’m here. Las cartas del tarot, tía abuela.”

Lucía bristled, Spanish tones clipped and borderline anything but dulcet. “What about them?”

“You’re going to pull another ‘neighbour will kill me with their lawnmower’.” You huffed, remembering the incident all too well.

Ernie had waddled in at his top speed (which was slower than your normal walking pace) with wide eyes, claiming that the neighbour with murder him with their mower since Lucía ‘predicted’ he’d die by a spinning blade.

“¡Silencio!” She hushed with a flap of her hands, neon-green nails obvious in the lighting of the kitchen. “There is nothing wrong with my readings. They saved Ernesto’s life, no?”

“Eres imposible.” You groaned, rubbing your nose. Dean’s eyes landing on the scar across the bridge of it and swallowing, folding his arms. He’d rather not involve himself in the family drama.

“Lo sé.” She retorted, raising a threaded eyebrow.

Ernie sighed, taking Lucía by the arm with a patronising expression. “Creo que deberíamos dejar en paz a la pobre niña, Lucía. It’s almost time for that face thing you do.”

“It’s a skincare routine, Ernesto.” Still, she allowed herself to be whisked away.

“Yes, yes, that. My point remains, querida.”

Once you and Dean were alone, you cleared your throat. “Sorry about that.” You sighed, running a hand through your hair with a hand on your hip. “Aunt Lucy’s a handful. She gets her hand on anyone she can.”

Dean was part speechless. On one hand, he got flirted with by a seventy-six year old woman (at least, that’s what the body language told him), and on another, he got to hear you speaking Spanish.

He wondered if you could talk dirty to him one day in Spanish. Wishful thinking.

“Nick’s your… cousin, then, right?” He clarified, trying to stop the stirring in his gut. Down, boy.

“Yep.” You nodded, sighing. “He’s my cousin. My mom’s sister, whose real name is Elánora in Spain talk. She just changed it to a more American name and gave me and Cassie the same. Rick - Dad - he’s Ricardo.”

“Rick?” Dean grinned. “I’d have thought his nickname would be Di-”

“You absolute child.” You groaned, walking off.

“What? You gotta admit, it’s not the most unlikely thing in the world.”

You couldn’t help but moan and let your head fall forward, pressing your forehead against the cold desk to counteract the heat building up inside you until it clouded your mind and no desk would help you anymore.

Your hips rolling back desperately, seeking the friction - the feeling - only he could give you.

“So needy.” Dean chuckled from behind you, your skirt hiked up to your waist and his fingers buried to the knuckle in your soaked pussy, scissoring and curling when he felt like it. “Had a stressful day at work, hm?”

“Mmh,” Was all you could hum out at a response, meeting his thrusts and feeling the tension and/or stress in your body release with every brush against your g-spot but the very core of your body like a nuclear reactor, warming up and building up until your eyes were rolling back.

“Yeah.” Yet another low rumble of a laugh, but a kiss against your clothed shoulder, hot breath fanning over your skin. “Let me take care o’ that, baby. Of you. M’gonna make you feel so good you can’t walk straight. Want that, sweetheart?”

You whined out a response, which earned you a hum and the clinking of a belt buckle clinking, which had you bracing yourself on the edge of the desk. Dean’s calloused hands reaching to take a firm hold of your hips, lining the tip of his cock against your soaked entrance-

“Hey. Wake up.” What felt so much like a warm breath on your shoulder turned out to be the concerned hand of Sam Winchester, which had you groaning and reaching to rub your face with your own. Your eyes heavy and clearly riddled from sleep that you sorely needed to catch up on, but looks like it caught up with you. “You ok?”

You tried to snap yourself out of it, inwardly cursing at the fact that it was a damn dream.

What you wouldn’t give to have the stress and the overall lack of satisfaction that your pussy was giving you hell about the much needed relief by Dean goddamn Winchester.

Wishful thinking.

“Yeah, I’m fine.” You sighed, then checked the time on your desk clock with weary eyes.

11:38 PM.

“We just finished cracking the tapes in the IT department.” Sam said softly, looking down on you with worry as well as the majestic mane of hair he possessed. Wishful thinking again, wondering if your hair could fall that perfectly into place. “We could have a look at it, but you’re nowhere in the right mind to try and make heads or tails of them. I think you should go home, Special Agent.”

“That’s bullcrap.” You scoffed, but then your eyes dropped again, sleep trying to lure you but failing as you snapped yourself back awake. “Yeah, I could use a bed.”

“I’ll drive you.” Sam took out his keys, helping you out of your chair (paired with some frantic yet muffled conversation), strong arms then moving you out of the building, into the parking lot and into his car.

It even smelled like Dean. Mm, old leather. Cologne, and whiskey. Beer.

A hand buckled you in, a calloused palm smoothing back the strands that dared be unruly and fall in front of your face. You lost track of time, but beefy arms lifted you up and away, into the safety of a familiar-smelling living room and then into an unfamiliar bedroom.

It wasn’t yours, but your tired mind remembered chucking a glass of water at someone in this very house.

The warmth of a blanket cocooned your body, tucked to your chin as your head nestled in some pillows. Succour of sweet sleep calling your name as you caught a ‘Sleep well, sweetheart’ from somewhere that could be the door before all light was shut out entirely.

You woke up in an unfamiliar bed, in unfamiliar sheets that smelled like… old leather. Cologne. Whiskey, both cheap and expensive with notes of beer. On your stomach, one leg bent and you were still in your office attire.

Note that you usually wear trousers and a blazer to the office in DC. Yesterday was one of those days.

“Sammy told me you’d knocked out at the office.” A low chuckle - one that always made your pussy throb and ache - had you more awake than you would openly admit. Dean was leaning on the door, no shirt, just grey sweatpants.

Every contour of his post-workout toned chest showing to you and making your mouth go dry. You wanted to stain that chest with your lipstick.

Maybe you’d wear your most bold red for the occasion.

“Did you kidnap me?” You scoffed, sitting up fully clothed in the bed, the only article of clothing off being your shoes. Touché.

Dean snorted, shaking his head. “‘Course I kidnapped you. I’ve got nothin’ better to do, sweetheart. Nothing other than kidnap my colleague.” He stepped further into the room, his attire reminding you of your almost-kiss five years ago.

His lips inches from yours. Your hand in his hair. His beginning to massage the flesh of your waist. Hot breath fanning over each other’s lips, eyes locked on them too through fluttering eyelashes.

“Just five minutes, sweetheart. To take the edge off.”

You should’ve taken that five before Sam rang his damn phone.

Oh, God, get it goddamn together.

“Ha, ha, very funny.” You rolled your eyes, which had him chuckling and shaking his head. Still shirtless. Which still made him the most irresistible man on the planet. He always was; who were you kidding?

Even through your irritation, you couldn’t help but crack a smile.

“Sammy didn’t think it’d be safe to be home alone, not after Abaddon could have somehow given our IDs to her buddies, the Knights of Hell.” He shrugged. “So I volunteered to bring you back here.”

“Have you slept?”

“A couple hours.”

“And here I am, knocking out until…” You checked the time, “9 the next morning. Ain’t fair, Winchester.”

“I took a knockout nap right after that whole Abaddon fight, hostage situation ordeal.” He laughed, grinning widely. “I’m good on that part. About a ten hour nap; it messed up my sleep schedule. At least, Sammy calls it a sleep schedule.” Then he closed the door and beckoned you over. “Show me your shoulder, c’mon.”

“Is this necessary?” You huffed, but you were unbuttoning your blouse anyway, shrugging off your suit jacket.

Just Dean’s luck that there was only a simple black sports bra there. If it was lace, he’d have you on that bed in milliseconds. “‘Course it is, don’t be a baby.”

“You’re a baby.” You scoffed as you turned around, letting him inspect the blue, part swollen skin. He drew air in his teeth as he looked at it, then hummed.

“I’ll ice that later.” He murmured, trailing his fingers delicately over the skin before pulling his hand back. But instead of letting you put your blouse back on, he stopped you and helped you put it on, but his fingers paused at the buttoning phase, not starting it. His fingers didn’t have it in him. Every brush of his fingers on your heated skin sent jolts through both of you every time he tried to grow a pair and do it for the sake of professionalism.

His lips were right there. You could feel them against yours if you wanted to. Or you could guide them to your neck.

You were pretty sure Dean had that idea when his arm hooked around your waist and tugged your body flush against his, your nose slotting perfectly against his. Your hands instinctively flying to his chest.

Dean’s breath hitched as he felt the contact on his bare skin, licking his lips and biting the bottom as he traced every detail of your face. Your stunning eyes, staring up at him through thick eyelashes, halfway on the journey to closing. The curve of your nose and the scar across the bridge that came with it. The shadow of your cheekbone, line of your jaw and your lips.

God, your lips.

Dean could see every dip and curve of your top and bottom lip from that angle, the slight pout before they parted, showing him a sliver of tongue that made him wish it would lave at his chest. Your lips were a temptation that had his arm wrapping tighter around your waist and his hand resting over your exposed navel.

So close to the waistband of your trousers.

He couldn’t stop focusing on your lips, however boring it may seem to recite it over and over. They were full, but not too plump- in a way that had him wanting to kiss them until they were swollen and his. Wanted them to look pretty and bear his mark. He’d do that to your neck too… if he could. Cover every freckle he could see.

You weren’t faring much better. You could see every freckle lining his face and the pout of his pink lips as he contemplated what to do next. Whether to ravish you - finish what you both started - or to leave you hanging for the sake of professionalism. You saw the sharp contour of his cheekbone and jawline, and the smooth skin of his chest under your hands pressed further into the touch with a barely held sigh, heartbeat pounding against your fingertips.

Fast. Desperate. Wanting.

Your attention diverted from him to glance down at his abs - damn, those abs - and his v-line disappearing into the low-hanging fabric of his grey sweatpants that he wore in this exact same situation five years ago.

You couldn’t think of anything more cliche but there was nothing more hot.

You felt his fingers wrap around and grasp your chin, moving your gaze back up to lock with his and god, were you transfixed. Your breath caught before it left your mouth. Breaking the pattern you’d worked so hard to maintain. It’d break you and then you’d let him lay you down and wreck you.

“Keep those eyes on me, princess.” He murmured, still gently holding your chin and thumbing your bottom lip. Keeping his eyes on you as well. “Don’t take ‘em off.” You wanted to protest. You’d be putting your job in jeopardy if you carried on like this any longer.

But it felt so damn good.

The push, the pull, the heat, the want, wanting what you could so obviously have because he wanted you too. It was all so intoxicating you got lost in it. In him.

Dean Winchester would send you to hell. Even worse, get you fired. But you’d thank him for it.

NEXT UP:

“Being a Knight of Hell makes you bitter.” He swept a thumb over his bottom lip, scoffing and shaking his head slowly. “You do horrible things. To innocent people, too. Most of us enjoyed it. I didn’t. That’s why I ran.”

You rubbed your cheek, sharing a look with Sam, who looked both incredibly concerned and curious. Not only was this syndicate dangerous, they took inspiration off Bible lore, which was how they contracted their code names.

“And your code name was Cain?” You asked, gesturing to him with a raise of your eyebrow. “As in… Cain and Abel? And your real name is William Abernathy?”

“Abel was my brother’s supposed ‘codename’.” William, previously ‘Cain’, deadpanned, sipping some bourbon with a blank expression. “Gave it after his death. Thought it was funny. They thought the same for my beautiful Collette too.”

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Rockets Pointed Up at the Stars (Pt 2/2)

Part I

Despite what Phantom had implied, tracking down Batman wasn’t done in an instant.

Sure, they’d be back seconds after when they left. But with time travel in the mix, that could be hours or days apart. They’d already followed him back to his initial landing time, when Neanderthals were still around (and wow, was there a difference between factually knowing some people had been around since the dawn of humanity and physically seeing Vandal Savage in the flesh as a caveman). According to the trail left by Clockwork, the ghostly guardian of the timestream, they were getting close.

Apparently Bruce couldn’t make things easy and was also making jumps through time, which if left unchecked would cause the timeline collapse that Clockwork had recruited Phantom for. Specifically Phantom, as it turns out the thief that liked messing with him on weekends was also the Master of Space and the King of everything.

(Phantom insisted it was just a title, and he was only king of the Ghost Zone. It just so happened that the Ghost Zone was also known as the Infinite Realms, which contained every reality of every universe in existence.

And he’d won that title by defeating the previous ruler in single combat.

The High King had to scramble to catch Tim when his knees gave out at the realization that he had unknowingly gone toe to toe with someone who made Darkseid look like a toddler in a sandbox. What the fuck, Phantom.) 

As of now, they were waiting for the actual Blackbeard’s ship to dock to investigate the fabled Black Pirate he supposedly fought a week ago, whose description matched Bruce’s. Phantom had gone to grab them something to eat while they waited in a tavern, leaving Tim to save his seat. If someone told him even a week ago that this was where he’d be, Tim would’ve interrogated them for hours to try to figure out what it meant.

But no, he was just sitting at a table in the 18th century, a medallion from the Master of Time hung around his neck, waiting for his hero-turned-king-gone-rogue to return with food while they waited for Blackbeard the legendary pirate to show up. Jason would probably kill to be here in his place.

Tim was broken out of his thoughts when Phantom returned, two bowls of soup in hand and balancing an additional plate of tough-looking bread on his forearm.

They’d been forced to ditch their masks when Puritans tried to have them hanged a century ago, now dressing in more accurate clothing to better blend in. Phantom had apologized for discovering Tim’s real name, going as far as to reveal his own secret identity: a black haired blue-eyed teen named Danny.

“Heads up, it’s gonna be either too salty or bland as wood. I’m pretty sure the cook wanted to strangle me for asking too many questions about the ingredients.”

Tim snorted, accepting his bowl, “Is that why we don’t get spoons?”

“Nah, the owner doesn’t trust customers to return the utensils. Drink from the bowl, though you might want to soak your bread if you don’t wanna pull a muscle chewing it.”

“Noted.” Tim dared to take a sip, mulling over the taste. It wasn’t anywhere near Alfred’s level, but a step above his own adventures in the kitchen before getting a hard ban post-pancake incident. It tasted closer to brine than soup, but it went surprisingly well with the bread.

Phantom hummed in pleasure, proving yet again that his standards for food consisted of ‘isn’t actively resisting consumption’. Tim could hardly judge him for it, seeing as his own bar wasn't much higher.

“So, I’d say we have an hour or two until our man arrives. Want to go over the plan again?”

Tim shrugged. “Unless it’s changed from ‘confirm Bruce was already here before following the nearest skip in time’, I think we’re good.”

Phantom nodded, silence falling over them as they ate their way through dinner. Tim kept an ear out for trouble, but the tavern was quite peaceful this time in the evening. It was likely to change once the Queen Anne's Revenge finished docking, but for now he’d savor the ambiance.

“Wanna play twenty questions?”

He blinked, refocusing on Phantom sitting across from him. “Huh?”

“I just figured it might pass the time. Twenty questions, no lies, though you can reject them if you don’t want to answer.”

Tim considered it before nodding, “Sure. How old are you?”

Phantom grinned, “Seventeen, same as you. Why Robin?”

“I wanted to help Batman after the previous one died. Nobody else would intervene, so I stepped in. Why Phantom?”

“Okay, hear me out…it’s a pun.”

Tim paused, gesturing for him to elaborate.

“Before I was half-ghost, my last name was Fenton. So as a ghost, Danny Fenton became—”

“Danny Phantom,” Tim groaned, pinching the bridge of his nose. “I can’t believe I ever thought you were subtle.”

“Hey, nobody expects the dead guy to moonlight as a living person. Sunlight? Whatever. Favorite hobbies?”

“Photography and skateboarding. Favorite power?”

“Ooh, that’s a hard one. I’d have to say flight. Nothing beats flying at night. Sexuality?”

Tim spluttered, making Phantom laugh as he blushed. “What the heck?!”

“Hey, you can always skip,” the asshole offered.

“No, it just caught me off guard. I’m bi. You?”

“Pan. And trans, while we’re at it. Ghosts can shapeshift, so I got a perfect transition at the low cost of death.”

Tim snorted, “Death is an ally.”

“Absolutely, it comes for us all,” he winked. “If you had a single power, what would it be?”

“Something so I wouldn’t need to sleep. I can manage otherwise. What determines the things you take?”

Phantom grinned, “Once a detective. But seriously, I just aim for things that look cool and won’t be missed too much. Some people will kick up a fuss over their trash if they think it’s worth stealing. Thoughts on soulmates?”

He stopped, some part of him catching on how serious the otherwise silly sounding question was phrased. As if the way he answered this could mean life or death. “You mean, a couple acting like they’re made for each other?”

“Ah, I wasn’t sure whether you had them in your universe. On my Earth, everyone is born with some kind of connection to at least one other person. Shared thoughts, a timer countdown to the time they first meet, stuff like that. Platonic or romantic, they were called soulmates.”

“So…someone you’re destined to meet and get along with? Is it magic based?”

A nod. “Humanity’s done research but they haven’t concluded on that yet. I asked an Ancient whose domain was centered around it, and they said it was determined by a soul’s resonance. I don’t know the specifics, but something about how all souls that resonate a certain way are born with soulmarks, so that they have an easier time finding each other. There are studies about how soulmates tend to understand each other easier, but other than that there’s no empirical proof that they’re different from any other relationship.”

Tim considered it. What it might’ve been like, to be told the second he met Dick that fateful night at the circus, ‘this boy will permanently alter the course of your life’. To have been able to approach Batman that first time, point to his wrist, and automatically be listened to instead of resorting to blackmail. How much easier it would have been to avoid the misunderstandings that defined their whole family.

Then again, it would be just his luck to have been born in that world and not have any soul connections to the Wayne family, making him work twice as hard for the same level of trust. Or to be born without resonance at all, and be left knowing that he was truly beyond reach. What would that do to him, in a society where people could point at the worst criminals and say ‘even that monster has someone they love’? To be soulmates with a genuinely terrible person?

“It sounds like a mixed blessing,” Tim said, meeting Danny’s gaze directly. “I would love to have someone like that by my side, and I’d be terrified of being defined by it.”

Danny leaned back, wearing a self-deprecating smile that Tim was quickly learning to recognize. “Yeah, that’s fair. Your turn.”

“What…what is your personal experience with soulmates? If I’m allowed to ask.”

He hissed out a breath through his teeth. “Yeah, that’s exactly what I thought you’d say.”

“I can ask something else?”

Danny waved a hand in dismissal. “I’ll answer, just lemme figure out how to put it.”

“I’ll return our dishes while you think through what you want to say.” Tim stood with his empty bowl, easily accepting the other bowl and plate as they were handed to him.

Walking back, Tim cataloged the people hanging around the tavern. A group of friends huddled around a dozen plates, decked out in gear that made it look like they just finished having some grand adventure. The bartender, a sly smile on her face as a drunken man clumsily flirted with his own wife. The cook instructing a boy to retrieve the dishes from Tim, sending a calculating glance in Danny’s direction before nodding at Tim and turning back to the fire.

Tim didn’t spend a lot of time in public anymore. His fame attracted far too much attention now that the press could consistently recognize him. But maybe once things settled back down again, he’d try civilian life again. There was something different about living alongside the people he worked to save, instead of far above looking down.

By the time he returned to his seat, Danny looked ready to talk.

“My soulmate rejected me when we were little.”

Tim blinked. “You can do that?”

“Ah…sorta? Depending on the connection, one side can choose to shut it down. Mine let us exchange messages. I was a dumb kid, and sent out a ton every day to try and get any kind of response that they were out there. They got sick of it and blocked me.” Danny laughed, but it wasn't very funny.

“I’m sorry. That sounds awful.”

“Don’t be. I annoy everyone—it was only a matter of time before I did something to chase them away.”

“Would you stop doing that?”

Danny blinked, tilting his head in silent question.

“Look, I get that you went through a lot of shit before coming to Gotham. But you keep acting like it’s a given that everyone you meet will be awful to you, and it sucks to hear you talk like that when I’m having fun with you. It wasn't your fault, so stop claiming credit for it. If I can’t justify losing Robin, you can’t justify being abandoned.”

“...alright then.” Danny huffed, folding his arms and pouting. “Neither of us can talk shit about ourselves.”

The twinkle in his eyes was enough for Tim to know he got through to him.

— - —

Tim leaned up against a fence in the Wild West, shifting uncomfortably in his dust coated clothes. Danny was perched beside him, smugly radiating a cool breeze that may very well have been the only thing keeping Tim upright in the summer sun.

“There’s too much sunlight here, it’s unnatural.”

“That’s just your Gothamite showing, city-boy.”

“Fuck off.”

Danny’s laughter had become a staple of the past few days spent traveling through history. In turn, Tim found himself happier than he’d been in ages, making sarcastic comments about anything that caught his eye in an attempt to get Danny to laugh more.

So far, he’d yet to fail to bring at least a smile to the other’s face.

Right now they were in the late 19th century, following rumors that Bruce had somehow crossed paths with Vandal Savage again. It was bordering on ridiculous, and a part of Tim wondered if this was why the legendary criminal stayed well away from Gotham waters. He was going to have to ask Bruce what was up with that after this whole mess was over.

“So,” Danny started, leaning closer to him. “Have any plans for when we’re back in modern day?”

Tim shrugged, “I see a lengthy report to Batman, hours spent explaining everything he missed while he was gone. I swear I’ll be up all week helping him catch up.”

A snort. “I meant about Robin. No offense, but you looked miserable in your new costume.”

He paused. He hadn’t quite processed the knowledge that bringing Bruce back wouldn’t also bring back his role as Robin. It was obvious whenever he actually thought about it, but to him Bruce coming home was still synonymous to going back to how things were before he was lost in time.

“I don’t know…Red Robin was just supposed to be temporary. It was one of Red Hood’s old aliases, not really mine.”

Danny turned to him. “Do you want a new one? If you decide now, we can lay the basis for some local legend to act as future inspiration for the new title.”

Tim elbowed him, “We aren’t messing with the timeline to establish lore for my new identity.”

“C’mon, it’ll be fun! I did it back in my original world, there’s ancient frescos of me winning chariot races and everything.”

“How are you and Clockwork still on speaking terms?”

“Oh, he totally finds it as funny as I do. He just has to pretend to be serious all the time so the Observants don’t crack down on him for shirking his duties.”

“You’re a bad influence on the embodiment of time,” Tim concluded with wide eyes.

A wide grin stretched across Danny’s face as he lied through his teeth. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“How did you even—he’s millennia older than you!”

“Counterparts, remember? It’s not a soul bond, but it’s easy to see ourselves in each other. Besides, time is relative; he's like a weird grandpa-uncle-cousin.”

Tim shook his head, but couldn’t quite force down the laughter in his lungs.

“Hey, I know for a fact I’m not the only bad influence here. No matter how much you claim that sleep is for the dead, I’m physical proof against that.”

“Whatever. You know when the next jump is?”

Danny tilted his head, as if listening for something only meant for his ears. “If Bats already came through here, there’s only two big timesinks left he could be in. Either sometime in the 20th century, or in a designated Vanishing Point.”

“Vanishing Point?”

“Yeah, it’s something of a collaboration between the Observants, Clockwork, and Ghost Writer. Each universe has an archive set right around its eventual heat death. It’s like an empty room in a video game with props the devs left in to keep the system running after inadvertently designing the whole code in reference to a lemon.”

“I…never mind. Why would Batman be there?”

“Oh, ‘cause he’s traveling through time without one of these,” Danny tapped Tim’s chest, right where his Time Medallion lay under his shirt. “They’re designed to safely disperse the energy gained each time we make a jump, among other things. Otherwise we’d just be building up enough to wipe the timeline from existence. Or something like that, I wasn’t really paying attention.”

Tim suddenly realized that this was what his former teammates meant when they complained about him executing strategies without explaining his thought process first. He still stood by his stance that it was more effective to explain things as they happened, but he was developing a new sense of empathy for them.

“Okay. Batman is a time-charged universe level bomb threat, and is getting funneled into the Backrooms so he blows up with everything else in existence. What can we do to stop that?”

Danny blinked. “Sorry, I thought it was obvious. I already carry a medallion with me wherever I go, so I was just gonna have you put the spare Clocky gave me on him to filter it out.”

Yep. This was karma for never giving people the full story behind any of his plans.

“I’m going to need you to go over everything we need to do when we get to this Vanishing Point. Twice.”

“Okie doke! So I’m gonna leave you with my spare medallion to help Bats while I throw down with Darkseid’s hyper-dimensional mind slave he sent after him to ensure his demise—”

Gift baskets. Tim owed so many people gift baskets for putting up with his bullshit.

— - —

When Tim found him, Danny was perched on the same apartment building they’d last met on.

His hood was down, freeing his flaming white hair to burn without heat in the night. His face was turned towards the sky, looking for all like he was somehow stargazing in spite of the thick smog that blanketed the city. It would’ve made for a stunning picture, if not for how soul crushingly lonely the scene felt.

Danny startled when Tim’s grappling hook latched onto the rooftop beside him. The halfa was quick to brighten upon seeing Tim down below, scooting over to make room for him as he reeled in the line and pulled himself up.

“Fancy meeting you here, Detective.”

Tim huffed, readjusting his utility belt. “The others won’t stop pestering me about how Batman was brought back when I shouldn’t have access to any time travel devices. It’s a miracle I was even able to get out of the Batcave without getting smothered.”

“You didn’t tell them about me?”

“You didn’t want them to know.”

Danny looked stunned. He physically shook himself out of it, a glowing green blush rising to his cheeks as he turned away. “Thanks.”

Tim absentmindedly nodded as he smoothly slipped a black marker from his belt while Danny was distracted. This had the potential to either go very smoothly or backfire completely, but it had to be done to sate his curiosity. Now that Bruce was home and he’d gotten the time to think over their conversations, pieces had started to align in his head. It was just a matter of taking the leap and confirming it for himself.

Reaching up to his own cheek, Tim wrote in practiced motions, focusing on the thought of sending it through to whoever was on the other side.

Danny jumped, hand slapping to his own cheek as he whipped his head around to stare at Tim in open shock. He shrugged sheepishly.

“Your description of soulmates was familiar. Between that and the cloak, I really should’ve put it together sooner.”

“You’re…not mad?”

Tim shifted, stashing the marker back in its rightful place. “I wish I knew sooner. I never meant to hurt you—Batman was getting on my case about the writing on my arms being recognizable in costume, and I never thought to wonder why it was happening in the first place.”

Danny shook his head, a wet chuckle escaping his lips. “You couldn’t have known. It would’ve freaked anyone out, getting messages from a different universe on their skin.”

“Neither did you. Know, I mean. Me blocking the connection was never on you.”

“Well…”

“I mean it.”

“Fine, fine. So…does that mean…?”

Tim carefully reached out his hands to grasp onto his soulmate’s, intertwining their fingers. It was remarkable how easily they fit together. “I don’t know if it’s romantic or not, but I’m willing to give it a try if you are.”

Danny collapsed forward into Tim’s arms. He could hardly make out the muffled affirmative, but the message was crystal clear. Leaning down to set his chin on the top of Danny’s head, he let himself savor this moment.

Tomorrow, he could beg Danny to experiment with the extent of their bond. They could talk about new ideas for his hero name, and Danny could get another shot at convincing him to go on a worldwide anti-multi-billionaire tour. The two of them had potentially forever to work out this newfound aspect of their relationship.

For the time being, Tim relaxed back against a chain link fence with his soulmate in his arms, the word ‘BOO’ scribbled in black marker across both their faces.

— - —

And that's a wrap! There's definitely room for more, but these were the all the scenes I wanted to cover ^-^

I think in this universe, Danny and Tim end up working as a slightly morally grey hero duo. They go global for a bit, Tim wanting to train under more people to better keep up with Danny (who follows along invisibly as backup). This eventually gets the attention of Ra's, and you can imagine how that goes XD

They're a bit overly attached; neither of them really have a healthy sense of boundaries, which causes a bit of conflict here and there. Tim is the one that insists on taking breaks to avoid becoming too codependent, which only really results in them deepening the soul bond to a ridiculous degree. Ironically it's during this that Tim discovers how he can send pressure marks through to Danny, who immediately converts it to morse code (oops).

Thanks for reading!

Tag list:

@skulld3mort-1fan @profoundsoulsong @daemonlogical @bobred18 @ashoutinthedarkness @hilariousseagoat @undead-essence @ekatkit @wolfjackle @awkwardmaiden @vehan-tikkun-olam-and-stuff

[receival]

baldur’s gate 3 starters.

the following is a collection of sentence starters from larian’s baldur’s gate 3. part 2.

look at me - i’m not a monster.

stay back. i don’t want to hurt you, but i will.

no. you’re not one of them at all.

i was ready to run you through. my mistake, friend.

that’s far enough. what’s your business down here?

you revealed our location? that tongue gets any looser, (name), and i’ll cut it out.

reckon i might miss this place.

this place is more dangerous than i thought.

well, don’t you cut a fine figure.

sometimes i’m jealous of that girl. ugh - to feel so invincible again.

in your expert opinion, what’s the best way to kill a devil?

i’m certain there are answers out there. we’ll find them together.

there’s no story. none that you’re entitled to hear, anyway.

you can tolerate a great deal of suffering, so long as it has meaning.

until then, all i can do is endure.

please try to understand that it’s not something i can just talk about freely.

perhaps there’s potential in you.

honestly, your faith is your own concern. i won’t judge, one way or the other.

i think i did well by joining you.

you already know my biggest secrets. what more can you ask?

that wall’s an illusion! hiding what, i wonder …

sun, moon, and stars will still be there, waiting for us.

this place is pretty spectacular, isn’t it?

no book or painting could ever do its strange beauty justice.

a perfect ring of mushrooms … nature, or magic?

hmm. i thought that might’ve done something.

another illusion. is anything real down here?

i’m more concerned with this ‘twit’ who set a spectator on you.

a rival - a mere footnote to my legend. you should be more concerned with who i am.

the fools must have turned back. or, better yet, died in the search.

i need no more rivals. try to take this as a compliment, yes?

this presence … this magic is not divine, but fey.

little? i am a god! and i’m gonna rip you - tear you - wear you for a hat -

don’t do anything hasty, now.

i’ll just kill you and claim it for myself.

i’m the lord of murder - i’ll show you why.

if you’re expecting me to drop to my knees before you, forget it.

a wizard’s tower is his sanctum, a private place for research and respite. but as this wizard’s not home … i say we take a peek.

a strange place for a button. especially one that doesn’t work.

what good would it do for me to be troubled? we can’t save them all.

you’ll have to speak slowly. i find it quite difficult to concentrate with my condition gnawing at my insides like a teething displacer kitten.

the whole village is falling to pieces …

hey, maybe we can scare up a few dusty bottles of wine somewhere.

i like your way of thinking. split any takings we find?

what creatures live in water this dark?

i’m a rabid dirty dog. and i bite.

i could’ve killed you before you even noticed me, but i didn’t. stand down.

i can be discreet. no need for bloodshed.

share? you really are in the wrong place.

a bleeding heart, are you? reckon i’ll just roast and eat it.

what in the hells did you do to that corpse?

you do plenty for me, more than you realize. but this cannot be remedied.

are you alright? is there anything i can do to help you?

enough. bickering won’t save your friend.

run away, then.

(name) - i was so worried! did they hurt you?

who cares? we’re together now, thank gods!

i’m grateful, don’t mistake me, but … why help us?

freeze it, cock-stench. we aren’t done just yet.

pay up, and you get to skink away. resist, and i gut you.

drop it. i don’t owe you anything.

your incompetence has been my ruin.

stop! no more innocents will die today, (name).

you care for the weak. most curious.

you so much as touch me, and i’ll tear you from limb to limb.

ah - another treacherous soul walks among us.

i ain’t going down easy.

you been a shit since i laid eyes on you, (name).

strike him down. prove your faith.

your silence speaks to your heresy.

look, you have no idea what you’re dealing with …

it’s the whole damn reason we’re here, and i’m not leaving without it.

the mission comes first.

and i thought i’d heard it all. that’s some cambion-level deception.

i go where there’s shit to stir. and there’s no shortage of options.

i can’t remember much, truth be told.

centuries of torment will do that to you.

you’ve been naughty. and you know what happens when you’re naughty.

just who in the nine hells are you?

well, well. aren’t you a luscious thing?

been a long time since someone stuck their neck out for me like that.

you have a manner of irresistible desperation about you. i like it.

you know, i’ve been thinking. and i think there’s something i should tell you. nothing big or terrible, just … a small little detail about me that hasn’t come up naturally.

i want to join you - to fight by your side.

i’m sorry for barging in like this, but i had to come find you.

i won’t let you down. i promise.

we all have our burdens, one way or the other.

i’m trying to say that you’ve earned my trust in a way very few ever have … i want that to mean something.

freedom - i’d forgotten how it felt. thank you.

if you have a moment, i’d like your opinion on something.

the problem is this: a preponderance of evidence that i am a terrible adventurer.

i can’t risk re-capture. i barely escaped last time.

it was a mistake. and not one we’ll repeat.

i don’t know. he was kind of fun.

we can’t just invite danger in to our hearth like that. we must be more careful.

most monsters will think twice before making a meal of me.

an old hunter’s trick - if you can’t mask your scent, spoil it.

i prefer a weapon to stench, thanks.

you’re a monster hunter? not what i imagined.

whatever you’re hunting, your stench alone will kill it.

a quick wit is rare indeed.

know how to ask, and they’ll share that knowledge. if you’re fool enough to pay their price.

speak plainly. what is she?

i think you’re mistaken - this place looks innocent enough.

truth is like a blade, my friend. we can arm ourselves with it - or just as easily find it pressed against our throat.

i would not put you in danger.

your coyness is getting boring. tell me.

you take insult where none is intended, my friend.

how thoroughly invigorating it is to stand by one’s friend in the face of danger.

you best have one hells of an apology for me.

you must have mistaken me for someone else.

that wriggler swimming in your brain juice is a bit of an inconvenience, isn’t it?

that’s none of your concern.

don’t change the subject.

keep that hole under your nose shut.

let’s not involve ourselves in this place any longer than is necessary.

you want to play the hero so badly? fine. let’s make this interesting.

gods, it’s hot in here.

i’ve had better days. and worse ones.

i am, after all, the villain of the tale.

you truly are a soul that steels my own.

you are as thick as they come.

even i am tired of the sound of my own voice.

i stand at a precipice, but if you do not give up hope, neither shall i.

all of this … it must feel like a betrayal.

you bastard! you ruined it, you ruined everything!

slow down - what did i do?

this is an interesting way of thanking me.

i don’t need this. good luck getting out of here on your own.

i know i should head home, but … i can’t bring myself to leave.

(are you alright?) / not even a little bit. but i will be.

she favored me like a child favors a captive pet.

i promise i will not betray your trust.

i cannot thank you enough.

you will face (name)’s judgement.

i wish you could have visited at a better time.

you had no right to intervene.

you’re not one of us.

copper for your thoughts?

always a delight to speak to you.

did i play games like this in my youth? was i sweet once?

what are you doing? i’m busy here!

nothing beats the taste of stolen beer.

come on, now. they’re just having a bit of fun.

let’s do what we have to do, then get out of here.

smell’s like burnt flesh.

hold out your arm so i can mark your flesh.

i’m here to spill your guts across the floor.

pain without purpose is a terrible thing, wouldn’t you agree?

i often feel i like raw pain too much. it scares me.

as long as the story ends in death, it’s all the same to me.

forgive me, but - that look in your eyes. something terrible has happened to you.

what i see in your eyes, in your soul, is only natural.

we’ve all suffered in these dark times. it is little wonder you hear scars of pain and anguish.

touch me and you’ll lose your hand.

the pain you suffer will cleanse you - do not fight it.

you look tired. should i take over?

welcome the pain. let it become part of you.

that looks like it’s going to bruise.

not that i’m suggesting we stop for a drink, of course.

i wouldn’t want to place all my faith in blind luck.

sympathies won’t help me to survive.

your life, much like your words, is meaningless. end the latter to save the former.

looks like the booze got the better of them. they’re practically unconscious.

they’re dying for me. all of them.

why don’t you take a closer look? i’ll observe from back here.

please don’t open the creepy book!

toddlers are easier to please than you lot.

you know, i never pictured myself as a hero.

all i want is a little fun. is that so much to ask?

having performance issues, (name)?

never have i met such troglodytes.

i was hoping you wouldn’t notice i was gone.

i suggest we admire it from afar.

it would be too much to hope that’s nothing to do with us, wouldn’t it?

i go my own way - alone.

i’ll feed your innards to the ants before i do that.

[bellewintersroe]

Max Verstappen X HornerDaughter!

Part 6- here’s the LINK to part 5. Thank you for all your support! Only a small chapter, but 100% more coming, just you wait… When Red Bull fail to establish their dominance in Singapore, it seems nobody can get off of Max’s back, despite the fact he’s happy for Carlos and the McLaren boys on the podium. All the doubting gets to his head and in the end there’s only one person he turns to for support. Leni secretly freaks when she realises her and Max keep getting closer… Taglist: @ironmaiden1313 @callsignwidow @fangirl125reader @norassimpingzone @roseseraj @eugene-emt-roe @copper-boom @its-elias-world @cassiopeiia24

“But is Max Verstappen really happy for Carlos Sainz, or is that just a cover up?”

“Max- Max how do you feel? Should it have been you up on the podium today?”

“Max how does it feel that the Red Bull dominance has been broken?!”

“We’re sensing some tension lingering around Max Verstappen today in Singapore after he takes 5th place. It was an astonishing race for Carlos, we can’t quite say the same about the man who has been dominating the 2023 season!”

Poor Max. It was no wonder the poor guy just wanted to get out of the media’s eye. He was so happy for his friends on the podium, he was still confident and self-assured, but the media kept portraying him to be some kind of villain that was spiteful for his own close friends. Even Checo, the media harassed to shit, but Max seemed to take the brunt of it.

No matter how happy he was, it wasn’t enough for the press who constantly accused him of being a brat, or pissed off about the race. I was positive there was nothing Max could do to please them, so when he headed back to his hotel in peace, I was disappointed, but not so surprised.

Me on the other hand, after four drinks in I’d twisted my ankle and ended up limping back to my room, the kind receptionist from downstairs offering me an icepack. It was pretty boring sitting alone in my room when everybody else was out, even my whole family was somewhere but I’d drunken too much too quickly and paid for it soon after.

That’s when I thought of Max. He too was in his room, probably asleep after such an exhausting day. In my tipsy mind I lifted my phone up, glancing through our previous texts. I’d not responded to his last message which was just a simple not explanation of why the RB’s didn’t work so well on specific types of circuits. I’d seen him in person and felt too awkward to text when we were in the same proximity.

Snapping a picture of the ice pack over my ankle I sent him a bunch of pissed off emojis, feeling playful.

Leni: don’t drink Prosecco it fucks you over It wasn’t so long later when Max actually responded. I was surprised it was so quick, but god- I wanted him so bad. I felt like having him, especially now, so soon after a break up would be a little sour for everybody around us, never mind that my own dad was his team principle.

Max: wtf Leni how did you manage that, are you ok?

Leni: hahahaha don’t even ask I’m good, are you?

Max: yeah just pissed off with all the media today. I don’t want to see a single person else. I cringed at his words. Yikes. That was my invite gone. Rereading my messaged to make sure they made sense, I sent a simple message of; Leni: I don’t blame you

Max took a while to respond after that. I was actually falling asleep, my eyes feeling heavy until the buzzing of my phone aroused me quicker than I could process.

Max: unless you wanna come chill with for a while “Oh, Max. I don’t know how you deal with them. They make it out like you’re gonna start a war with Carlos just because you didn’t get a podium, once.” I sat on the edge of his bed, continuing to hold the ice pack to my ankle.

“Exactly, and I don’t know why!” He paced from one end of the room to the other. “They like drama.” I pointed out.

“True, but…” Max plopped himself on the hotel bed. “I feel fine for Japan, I’m confident, but when you’ve got millions of people doubting you it gets kinda irritating.” I winced slightly at his words. Max usually didn’t be so open about his feelings with this side of the media, I knew truthfully he never really give two shits what they thought, but when people were constantly at him I was positive he must’ve found it jarring.

“You’ve also got millions supporting you again.” I responded as he smiled gently. “Yeah. I know that.” His voice was gentle, grateful, he sounded humble. It was a side to hum media didn’t like to show, especially in drive to survive.

“I know I will be.” I shrugged, glancing over to see him smiling down to his sweats. It was a miracle to see him something other than jeans. “Thanks, Leni.”

“Or maybe I’ll switch teams completely and start going to the Ferrari garage.” Max threw a pillow at me in response.

“Dick.” I snickered, scooting further up onto the bed to rest against the headboard, besides Max. There was still possibly the largest gap between us that I’d ever witnessed.

“Could you imagine what my dad would say?”

“I don’t think he’d be too happy.” Max smirked. “Neither would I.”

“Really?” I gazed over his expression. He was still smiling, indicating he couldn’t have been too serious. “Yeah, I mean, you’re part of our team. If you’re not there it would be weird.”

Hours passed and soon we’d both retired under the covers, watching the TV in a comfortable silence. The alcohol that once streamed through my body had fallen stagnant and I was feeling more nervous than when I initially arrived into Max’s room. I stole a glance at him, his eyelids were heavy as he watched the movie, something I hadn’t paid attention to in a good hour.

The gap between us had closed slightly, and I felt myself overthinking more and more about how soon it was to be in this position with him. Friends do this, right? As long as there was no physical contact, as bad as I wanted it, it would be fine.

So the minute I felt Max’s hand brush against the bare skin of my elbow I felt myself completely freak, fidgeting my legs and accidentally kicking my bad ankle. “Ow, fuck. I kicked myself.” I pushed myself up, pretending to be completely and utterly blind to how close we were laid previously.

“Are you ok?” Max too, pushed himself up. I pushed the covers off me and glanced at my slightly swollen ankle. “I’m fine, just… hurt.” I winced, lowering it off the side of the bed.

“Oh- you can stay… if you want.” Max muttered, sounding a little nervous. My stomach grew butterflies, my heart felt like it exploded and as badly as I wanted to say yes and jump on him- something was stopping me.

“It’s okay. I better go to bed, thank you though.”

“Want me to walk you back?”

“30 seconds down the hall?” I giggled as he shrugged like it was obvious. I realised how rude that sounded, to turn down his offer. “It’s okay, thank you though, Max. I would stay but Blue is there- and if I don’t come back, you know, it looks a little…”

“I get it. Then they all start asking questions.” Max agreed as I offered him another smile. “Yeah. Exactly.” I turned my head a way, hesitating to actually turn around and leave. Max stood besides me at the door and to avoid any other form of intimate interaction I avoided eye contact at all cost.

By the time I’d got back to my bedroom I’d well and truly wanted to top myself. Well done Leni, well fucking done. That could have been one of the most finest moments of my life, not!

[captain-barnes-writes]

What is soft launch? (Carlos Sainz)

Part three

Summary: Max Verstappen’s ex girlfriend moves on with none other than Ferrari’s Carlos Sainz and they’ve managed to keep their relationship under wraps until now. Part one | part two |

Face claim: Cindy Kimberly

Type: insta au

Pair: Carlos Sainz x reader x ex!Max Verstappen

Warning: this is all over the place, fluffy Carlos, Lando Norris all up in the comments lol, salty max

————————

YourUsername posted a story

Replies

Username shots fired!

Username the pettiness is real🫢

Yourbff and he always remembers not to cheat!

YourUsername: girl stop 😭😭 you know what I’m gonna delete this

Yourbff 🔪

DanielRicciardo Carlos might as well have bought the whole flower shop lmao

YourUsername don’t give him any ideas 🫣

LandoNorris this will cause more drama with Max😑

YourUsername he started it, he should’ve never posted that story in the first place!

LandoNorris I know, I scolded him for it trust me

CarlosSainz55 anything for you princesa

YourUsername 🥰♥️

MaxVerstappen1 I’m sorry

YourUsername just let me move on in peace

MaxVerstappen1 I just don’t know why it had to be Carlos

YourUsername we fell in love, simple as that.

YourUsername deleted their story

———

20,890 likes

F1Wags Carlos Sainz and Y/N arriving at the paddock for the Barcelona Grand Prix. This is the first time the couple are seen in public after recently confirming their relationship (after secretly dating for one year). I wonder how this will go down after Max’s insta story a few days about Y/N caused some drama.

Comments

Username honestly I ship it

Username same 😶

Username I can’t believe she’s back 🥹

Username max and y/n are still my one true pair

Username he definitely cheated, that’s not an OTP😑

Username those were just rumors

Username I smell even more drama just wait on it

Username I still can’t believe Max posted that story about her as though he doesn’t have his own family now🤡

Username True. I actually feel bad for Kelly after that

Username maybe he realized the grass wasn’t greener on the other side 🤐

Username 2 years too late for that

———

18,675 likes

F1world Carlos Sainz and Max Verstappen were spotted having, what seems, a serious conversation ahead of the Barcelona Grand Prix. This comes after Carlos and Max’s ex-girlfriend, Y/N, confirmed they’ve been in a relationship for the last year. Max had an outburst and posted a story of Y/N holding flowers reminiscing on their relationship which he deleted after a few minutes. The drivers seemed annoyed and Carlos at some point walked away from the Red Bull driver.

Comments

Username i knew there’d be drama 😭

Username I hope they can get past it seeing they have to see each other all the time

Username same here

Username shouldn’t be dating his mate’s ex then

Username oh to be Y/N and have two drivers fight over her 😮‍💨

Username She has the grid rizz 😏

Username she’s immaculate

Username tbh she had most drivers on a chokehold ever since she was with Max👀

Username they’re all in her likes and comments a lot of the time 🫢

Username this is Max’s karma

Username ^^ yes

———

Liked by YourUsername, CharlesLeclerc and others

CarlosSainz55 Podium today, so many good things to celebrate 🙌

Comments

YourUsername proud of you baby!😮‍💨

CarlosSainz55 we’re celebrating tonight princesa 😘

LandoNorris keep it pg Carlos 😑 there’s kids here

CarlosSainz55 yeah, you!

LandoNorris 🤬

ScuderiaFerrari that’s our boy!

Username the way he included Y/N in his post too🥹

Username he’s simping hard

Username I wonder what max and him talked about

Username it didn’t look good🫢

Username definitely about y/n

Username she looks better with you than she ever did with max 🤤

Comment liked by CarlosSainz55

Username not carlos liking my comment lmao

———

Liked by CarlosSainz55, MaxVerstappen1, LewisHamilton and others

YourUsername Red for Ferrari ❤️‍🔥

Comments

ScuderiaFerrari Red looks good on you!

CarlosSainz55 I agree ❤️‍🔥

CarlosSainz55 more like red for me

YourUsername 😏

GigiHadid beautiful!

LewisHamilton so great seeing you again!

Charlottesiine ❤️❤️

Username she’s in love love

Username ok but what is Max doing here?

Username he doesn’t even follow her but is all in her likes all of a sudden?

Username apparently it’s a problem if she moves on but he moved on within a second lmao 🧐

Username someone take Max’s phone away!

Username he’s probably crying in the shower rn

Username red suits you so much better than blue ever did queen

YourUsername 😝🫣

———

15,870 likes

F1Wags There’s reports that Kelly and Max are taking some time apart after some drama-filled days following Max posting about his ex-girlfriend,Y/N, after she confirmed her relationship with Ferrari driver, Carlos Sainz. Kelly was also pictured taking a solo flight to seemingly clear her mind and figure out the sudden halt of her 2-year relationship.

Comments

Username I called it!

Username it’d be hard to stay with someone who’s still clearly in love with their ex

Username you lose em how you get ‘em 🫢

Username poor Y/N can’t even move on in peace

Username she doesn’t seem to care tbh she’s down bad for Carlos lol

Username as she should 😏

Username lowkey feel bad for her

Username He should’ve fought for Y/N years ago, not now when he has his own little family

Username agreed! 😵‍💫

Username 20 sec penalty for ocon

Username 🤔

———

Liked by LandoNorris, CarlosSainz55, PierreGasly and others

YourUsername we’re good over here 😌 (that last one is for you guys, you’re welcome)

Comments

LandoNorris that last one was unnecessary 😒

YourUsername I disagree😋💋

LandoNorris 🤢

CharlesLeclerc I agree with Lando

YourBff is it simping hours??

YourUsername always 😶

ScuderiaFerrari giving the people what they want 👏

CarlosSainz55 😘

Username everybody just kind of overlooking the sassy caption 🤣

Username oh we noticed lol

Username my new favorite couple ❤️

Username queen keep giving us Carlos content

YourUsername 🫡🫡

———

Liked by YourUsername, LewisHamilton, CharlesLeclerc and others

CarlosSainz55 what she said 🤤

Comments on this post have been limited

YourUsername I love us🤤❤️‍🔥

CarlosSainz55 ❤️‍🔥

LewisHamilton beautiful couple!

YourUsername🫶🫶

LandoNorris third picture was unnecessary too

YourUsername 😐

DanielRicciardo the last pic on her post left me blind

CarlosSainz55 then how’d you type this?

DanielRicciardo 🫣

MaxVerstappen1 blocked CarlosSainz55 and YourUsername

———

Posting so late!

This is all over the place lmao but as always I enjoy making these social media au 🤭

[marionluth]

Harley: Shit! Shit, shit, shit, shit, shit! Fuck! Shit! Fuck! Shit! Fuck! Shit!

Peter: Did you get that out of your system?

Harley: How can you be so calm right now?”

Peter: What do you expect me to do? We’re in handcuffs! We’re arrested. We can do nothing but wait!

Harley: Dude! You’re freaking Spi…

Peter: Shut up! Are you that unhinged? Nobody knows that, little idiot! And I plan to keep it that way, so shut up!

Harley: But you could…

Peter: No! No, I couldn’t! Because even if it wasn’t a secret, I wouldn’t freaking pull a prison break and become a delinquent to save your ass from Tony!

Harley: Ok, first, you are already a delinquent! You’re in fucking handcuffs, and second… Your ass is on the line too just as much as mine!

Peter: Stop talking, Harley! We wouldn’t be in this damn situation if you listened to me!

Harley: Yeah, well, we wouldn’t have driven that beauty in a street race if I had listened to you! Which, by the way, I don’t have to do! Like ever! I don’t listen to you! I answer to no one!

Peter: * snorting * Yeah, that’s why you’re scared shitless of Tony finding out.

Harley: Oh, fuck off! No matter how hard you try to play the good obedient son, you know just as well as I do that you freaking loved the ride! You wouldn’t even know how good you were in this, hadn’t I made you try. Who would’ve thought! Peter Parker, an illegal street racer. We might have to shave your head to give you some Dom Toretto vibes.

Cop: For the last time, who is your legal guardian or parent?

Peter: Officer, this would go so much faster if you just called my stepfather, who, as I’ve told you a bunch of times already, is Tony Stark

Cop: You expect me to believe that? Huh? Don’t you think this has happened before? Little piece of shits like you coming in here, giving me names to look up and then call and then snickering while whoever I bothered calling curses the everloving shit out of me?

Harley: Everloving shit! That was a good one. I’m gonna be using that, Mr. badge.

Peter: Harley, shut up! We get a phone call, don't we? Let us call Tony ourselves. Harley here has something to tell him!

Harley: Oh, hell no! I’m not talking to Tony about this! No way in hell! Not even if you beat the everloving shit out of me

*pleased smirk for being able to use his new favorite curse word so fast *

Peter: Harley… I’m unbelievably close to beating the everloving shit out of you as it is… So, you’ll shut up and we’ll follow the kind officer, and we’ll call Tony. And you’ll speak to him and tell him where we are and why and that he needs to come get us.

Peter : And even if you don’t and decide to start stalling until the kind officer loses his shit and terminates the call, then I’ll use my phone call. And I’ll let Tony know exactly what happened. There’s no way out of this!

Harley: Sure there is. You’re just not creative enough! That’s the problem with you science guys, you’re not creative enough. Me and Tony, we’re mechanics. We can come up with a million different ways out of any given situation.

Harley: And like you said… Since you’ll end up telling him yourself using your phone call, after I waste mine, why not make the call in the first place and save us all some frustration? How about not being a selfish asshole for once, Peter? For the everloving God?

Peter: Harley, I’ll ask permission from the kind officer to start smacking the shit out of you…

Harley: Nuh uh! The Everloving shit…

To avoid confusion, this is from my fanfic. Link below 👇

[lincolndjarin]

my sister lives in the attic.

main masterlist

joel miller x reader

warnings : angst, death, child loss, grieving, denial

a/n : i've never written something like this but i'm in a weird place and this idea has been following me for quite some time now so i decided to take a few minutes and write it, i'd love some feedback on it since this style is kinda new to me !!

He didn’t like to talk about his children. 

“Do you have kids?”

“Two daughters.” Was all he said.

That’s what he had told you on your first date. He was so abrupt about it that you didn’t ask about them again, instead opting to wait until he told you on his own terms. 

On your fifth date he told you that Ellie got in trouble for cursing in gym class that day. 

On your seventh date he told you Sarah was away at college, and that he missed her terribly and wished she would visit. 

On your eighth date he told you that Ellie made him a card for his birthday. He even brought it over to your house to show you. It was a drawing of the two of them floating through space. The inside said:

i love our family to the moon and back!

You didn’t ask why Sarah wasn’t included in the crayon family portrait. 

On your ninth date he showed you the photos in his wallet. A baby girl with her curly dark hair up in two little buns sitting in the sand. The one below it was a girl who looked to be about five, giving the camera a toothy grin, standing next to Joel in a courthouse, holding up her adoption papers. 

On your twelfth date he finally invited you over for dinner, you happily accepted. 

Joel introduced you to an extremely energetic seven year old. He gave you a tour of the house (only the first floor.) and you smiled at every family photo hung on the walls.

“I invited Sarah but she couldn’t make it, she’s got midterms but I’m sure you’ll meet her soon.” He tells you before leaving you with Ellie, going to pick up a pizza for the three of you. 

Ellie tells you about school, about her best friend Riley, and about playing soccer in the backyard with her father. 

And then she says the strangest thing. 

“My sister lives in the attic.”

“Excuse me?” You had given her a confused smile but she carried on as if it was the most normal thing in the world. 

“My sister, Sarah, lives in the attic.” She said it so plainly. Taking your hand and dragging you up the stairs, pointing up at a staircase on the second story that led to a singular door, pink paint peeling from it with little wooden letters spelling out SARAH, the sight of it put you on edge. 

“We shouldn’t go up there honey, let’s wait until your father gets back.” You had put up a bit of resistance but she ran ahead of you, you watched helplessly from the bottom of the stairs as Ellie pushed open the door and ran inside. 

“It’s okay, dad says I can talk to Sarah whenever I want as long as I don’t touch her stuff.” She had shouted, already inside. Despite every nerve in your body singing for you to go back downstairs and wait, you knew better than to leave a child alone so you climbed the steps and entered the room. 

Nothing strange, nothing frightening, no secret nightmare. 

When you look around all you see is a room, albeit a child's room but a room nonetheless. 

Ellie sits in a love seat, suddenly repeating everything she told you about her day to seemingly no one as she stares at Sarah’s bookshelf. You walk around, trying to recall when Joel said she left for college. Everything is covered in a thick layer of dust but strangest of all this is clearly not a teenager's room. 

This is a childs room, for a girl about Ellie’s age. Every photo on her desk doesn’t show her older than what looks to be twelve. 

“Ellie, honey, when you said your sister lived in the atti-'' She doesn’t stop talking from behind you, ignoring you entirely but her words stop you dead in your tracks. 

“Dad keeps saying you’re coming home for Christmas but he also said you’d be home for his birthday, he keeps telling me how much we’re gonna get along but I just tell him we already get along fine.” 

It sends a chill up your spine, you aren’t superstitious but in a moment of weakness when you turn a part of you almost expects to see a ghost.

Of course that isn’t the case.  

When you look Ellie remains in the loveseat, seemingly the only thing that isn’t covered in dust up here. Her eyes trained on the highest shelf, when you follow her line of sight all of it starts to make sense. The shelf is covered in books and toys and trinkets, all of which are showing signs of age and disuse but the top shelf is neat and tidy, it even looks recently dusted. 

Only two things are on the top shelf. 

A beer bottle with the label ripped off, a lilac sits within it, a few stray petals lay in a halo around the makeshift vase. 

And a dark purple urn. 

You struggle to swallow the lump in your throat, unable to tear your eyes from it. 

“One time Uncle Tommy told me she was an angel.” She whispers when you stare in silence for far too long. “Dad got so mad we didn’t see Tommy for like a month after that and when we did see him again everything went back to normal.”

“What happened to her?” You can’t stop yourself from asking, she only shrugs in response.

“It was before I lived here, I never ask, I’m worried he’ll send me to live with Uncle Tommy if I do.” 

“Oh, honey.” You crouch down beside her, she hugs her knees to her chest. “He wouldn’t do that.” 

“I’m still not gonna ask. He doesn’t talk about her that much, only when someone else brings it up or if I ask to come up here to see her.” You nod slowly before holding your arms out to her, she wraps herself around you and you carry her to the door, eager to leave the tomb you’ve stumbled upon. “Bye Sarah.” She mumbled against your shoulder as you closed the door, the sentiment sent shivers down your spine. 

When Joel returns with the food it’s as if you never were in the attic at all.

Ellie runs to him, wrapping herself around his leg as he laughs, trying to kick her loose. 

When the three of you sit down for dinner she never says a thing to him about any of it. 

She asks if she can go to her friends house after dinner, their mom is going to take them to the arcade, Joel grins at you, asking if she was good while he was gone and you put on a smile, nodding. 

“Then you can go.” He ruffled her hair before she ran off to get her backpack. When it was just the two of you he took your hand, mentioning something about catching a movie while she’s gone, you nodded absentmindedly when he gave your hand a gentle squeeze you finally looked him in the eye. 

You’d never noticed it before but there is a permanent sorrow behind the dark expanse of his irises, as if he’s never really happy, he’s sometimes just less sad. “Everything okay?” He asked. 

“Yeah, everything’s fine.” 

You don’t bring up the attic at the dinner table.

Or in the car.

Or at the movies. 

He just needs time, you tell yourself. Maybe he’ll tell you on your thirteenth date, maybe it won’t be until your hundredth date. Until then you won’t tell him that you know who lives in the attic and you’ll nod with faux disappointment when he says that his eldest won’t be home for the holidays this year. 

And you’ll take extra care of him on days when he comes home with fresh lilacs.

a/n : yeah so uhhhhhhhhhh tell me how y'all liked this haha idk if i'll write anything like this again it was just sort of something for me to vent with, hope everyones having a good day and thank y'all for reading <3