#girl meets bay window

[mommyslittlebird]

What the Body Wants

Stepmom!Wanda x Reader

Summary: Now that you’ve decided to stay home for good, Wanda decides to take a step further into her role as your mama. The side effects bring out parts of her you’ve never seen.

CW: Stepmom/stepdaughter, induced lactation, breeding, cum strap, ovulation, light choking, W wants a baby, R is lowkey a bad fuck, R is confused but enthusiastic

Word Count: ~5k

A/N: Writer is also confused but enthusiastic. I’m not entirely sure I did this right but I like how it turned out and I really loved the premise. I hope this lives up to the hype/the rest of the series!

Part 5 of Her Special Girl

———————————————————

Coming home actually turned out to be a bit of a better deal than you expected. You’d half prepared to be regretting your decision by now, longing for the dorm life and solitude that moving away had given you. But, in reality, that college had never really given what you had hoped it would, so it didn’t feel like you were leaving anything behind.

Home life had also improved in the years you went away. A new custody agreement between Wanda and her ex-husband meant the boys were gone every other week, and they had grown up enough to not be riding Wanda’s coattails like they had been when you left. Your father was still deadweight, but he fell asleep early and stayed at work late, so even he was only an issue on occasion.

Even though it was only a 15 minute drive to campus, you adjusted your schedule to only have in-person classes on Tuesday and Thursday so you didn’t have to go everyday. So you spent most days in the bay window of Wanda’s office with your laptop and a lap desk, silently working on classwork while she sat at her computer.

Since you’d decided to stay home 2 weeks ago, Wanda had started the process of induced lactation, a thing the two of you had discussed in the past. You couldn’t help but be fascinated by the process. She would sit down on the couch or in bed, and spend around ten minutes with the funny looking devices hooked up to her chest. She still had an electric pump from when she had the twins, and you love to watch in awe as the clear plastic methodically massaged your mama’s nipples. She’d simply be reading a book or watching TV, but your eyes never left her chest.

If you asked nicely, she would let you help her use the manual pump. It never failed to amuse her how seriously you took this task. You would straddle her lap, furrowing your brow and sticking out your tongue slightly in intense focus. You always made sure the cup was placed perfectly, and you watched her face to gauge her reaction as you started to squeeze the pump. You were so receptive to anything she told you, whether you needed to squeeze it a little bit more, or if you’d gone too far. You always felt so honored to be allowed to take part in the process.

Your favorite, though, was when she invited you to join. She always insisted that the best form of stimulation was your suckling. She would lay you across her lap, running her hands through your hair, telling you that you did it better than the machines ever could. You spent 10, sometimes even 20 minutes on each side longing to draw out the process for as long as possible. Occasionally, she’d let you suckle on one side while she hooked up the electric pump to the other. She seemed to get extra stimulated on those days, hardly able to sit still even with your full weight in her lap.

On this particular afternoon, the two of you were curled up on the couch watching one of Wanda's favorite movies. You thought it was a little boring, but you weren’t going to complain while you curled up in her lap, securely wrapped in a soft blanket. The boys were at their dad’s house, your dad was at work and wouldn’t be home for several hours, and Wanda didn’t have any meetings this afternoon, so you didn’t have to worry about getting caught.

You wiggled around a little, trying to get comfortable, and you accidentally pushed your shoulder into Wanda’s chest.

She winced and sucked on her teeth. “Careful baby,” she whispered. “Mama’s a little sore.”

“Sorry, mama,” you apologized, turning to face her while carefully avoiding hitting her again. She took her breast in her hand, gently massaging it to ease the tension. You could see through gritted teeth how sore she was. You wanted to help her in any way possible. “Do you need a massage?” You asked innocently.

She perked up a little bit, intrigued by the offer. “Do you wanna give mama’s breast a gentle little massage?”

You nodded, and she slipped her shirt off over her head, revealing her chest. You could’ve sworn it was growing, though not so much she couldn’t hide it with baggy clothes. She took your hand in hers and slowly raised it to her breast. She could see you were nervous. You didn’t want to hurt her.

“It’s okay baby,” she reassured you. “You aren’t gonna hurt mama.”

You bit your lip, determined to do a good job and ease her pain. She was doing this for you, after all. You cautiously massaged the skin with your fingers, working your way carefully around her chest.

“Mmm,” Wanda hummed, throwing her head over the back of the couch. You could see her chewing the inside of her cheek, breathing shakily through her nose.

“Is this okay, mama?” you ask, concerned. “Do you need me to stop?”

“No, sweet girl,” she assured. “Don’t stop, just a tiny bit harder… ahh. You’re doing such a good job making sure your mama is all taken care of.”

“Mama?” you asked nervously.

“Yes, sweet girl?” she responded breathily.

“Is it hurting your body? To try and make milk for me?”

Wanda sat up straighter and cupped your soft, worried cheek. “Aww, sweetheart. You’re not hurting mama, baby. Mama is doing this because she wants to. And it doesn’t hurt so much as it’s just sensitive.” She stroked your cheekbone with her thumb, noticing how worried you still seemed to be. “Can mama tell you a secret baby?”

You nodded and leaned in, pressing your ear to her lips even though you were the only two people in the room.

Wanda dropped her voice to a whisper, playing along with your overly stealthy approach. “Mama’s body is reacting like this because all this pumping is making it want a baby.”

She took your hand, sliding it down her body and into the front of her pants. You nearly gasped as you felt through her thin underwear just how soaked she was. You pressed lightly into the wet patch, sliding two fingers up her slit through the fabric. She inhaled sharply, already grinding up against your hand. “It’s so sensitive, baby.”

She pulled back, gauging your reaction. There was a glint of recognition in your eyes. You were familiar with this sensation.

—----------

You stood in the doorway of her office, anxious and sweating. Your body felt it was on fire, tingling from your fingertips all the way down to your toes. You typically had a decently high sex drive, but you couldn’t remember a time when you’d ever felt this needy. It would have been easy enough to go to your room and masterbate, solve the problem on your own, but you wanted more. You wanted Wanda.

“Mama?”

Wanda turned her office chair to meet you. “Yes, sweet girl? What can I help you with?” She opened her arms, signaling you to come in.

You sat down in her lap and laid your head against her shoulder. She cradled the back of your head, stroking your hair softly with her thumb.

You hadn’t exactly planned to press your lips to her neck, to gently suck at the skin under her ear, but you were so hot, and her skin looked so soft, and you were so close, and she smelled so nice. And god, the taste, the sound you drew from her lips, the warmth of her skin. You needed her so badly. You slid your hand under the hem of her shirt, sliding your palm across her warm stomach.

“Sweetheart?” she said in a warning tone, using her hand to gently pull you from her neck. “What are you doing?”

She looked down, finding your eyes already glazed over with lust. You were hot to the touch, and just the simple tug of your hair pulled a low moan from your throat. “I need you, mama….”

She swallowed hard. It took a herculean amount of strength not to throw you over her desk and take you right there. If she hadn’t been a tad concerned that you had lost your mind, she would have. “Baby…” she asked. “What’s going on? Talk to mama.”

Your eyes looked into hers, pleading for more. Anything to take away the aching from between your legs. “It… I feel… It’s all so tingly. Everywhere. It… it hurts mama.” You were practically begging her to rip your clothes off and fuck you senseless.

“Ahh,” she hummed in recognition. “It’s that time of the month, is it?”

You furrowed your brow, confused. “What? No. My period was last week.”

“So your ovulation is this week,” she posited, smiling devilishly. “I’ll have to start keeping track of it, if it’s hitting you this hard.”

You groaned and buried your face into her shoulder while your hips bucked against her lap for any source of friction. You didn’t exactly know what ovulation was or what it had to do with you being so unbearably horny, but you weren’t exactly in the mood for an anatomy lesson.

Wanda kissed your head sympathetically and rubbed gentle circles on to the small of your back. “I’m so sorry, little love. Mama will take care of you in just a minute, just let me email Tasha and let her know I’m taking a long lunch.”

Thankfully, Wanda was true to her word, wrapping up her things rather quickly and carrying you to the bedroom. Your body hummed with electricity as she gently undressed you, making sure to egg you on with wet kisses and random hickies placed sporadically across your skin. You nearly jumped off the bed when she finally touched you, running a single digit up your folds and standing back to admire the results.

“Oh sweet girl, look at this,” she purred, holding her fingers in front of your face, covered in your excitement. As disinterested as you were in anything other than her hands and mouth on your body, you were admittedly a bit curious as to why it looked so different. What was usually a thin, clear liquid was now thick and white. She brought the fingers to your lips and you obediently took them into your mouth. “Do you know why it looks like that, sweetheart?”

You shook your head, quietly moaning at your own taste.

She leaned forward, whispering into your ear. “It’s because your body wants mama to give you babies.”

Just the raspy way the words left her mouth sent your hips flying off the mattress in a jolt of arousal. She stilled them with her hands, moving to kneel between your legs.

You had always had a pretty strong preference for missionary. You like to wrap your arms around Wanda’s waist and bury your face in her neck to stifle any sounds that she pulled out of you. This time, however, Wanda grabbed your legs and pushed your knees to your chest, gripping your thighs just below the underside of your knee.

You whined, feeling too far away from her, but she bent forward and kissed your head. “Shshsh. It’s okay sweet girl. Mama’s got you.”

You almost wanted to protest, but as soon as the tip of the toy hit your skin, any objections melted away. It was bigger than the toys you typically used, but you were so soaked the first four inches still slid in with ease. Your body momentarily seized and you breathed out a straggled moan.

Wanda took it slow at first, leaning forward to kiss your face and whisper words of encouragement as she gently eased the toy deeper and deeper with each thrust. “That’s it. That’s my pretty girl,” she cooed. “You look so pretty stretched out around mama’s cock, baby. Does it feel good? Is this just what you needed from mama?”

“Uh huh,” you moaned, eyes already starting to roll backwards. Your face flushed red when you realized you had nothing to cover your mouth with, leaving you squeaking and whining uncontrollably with each thrust.

Your mouth opened in a silent scream as Wanda bottomed out. You quickly realized the reason Wanda had you folded over like this: the strap could go impossibly deep, stretching you out in ways you’d never felt before. It was like she was kissing your womb with every stroke.

She groaned, slowly but firmly thrusting in as far as she could and holding it there before pulling back again. “Look at you, honey. Mama’s got you nice and ready. Are you gonna be a good girl for mama and let me give your body what it needs? Are you gonna let mama give you her babies?”

You bit down hard on your lip. You didn’t really understand what she was talking about. She couldn’t actually get you pregnant, but you did not care. You nodded eagerly, looking up at her with pleading eyes. “Mhm.”

“Say it for me. Tell me you want mama to fill you with her babies,” she commanded gently, continuing her slow and careful thrusts.

“I want… I want your babies mama. Please. Please mama I want you inside me forever,” you whined. Still you didn’t exactly understand what you were begging for, but the glare in her eyes told you that must have done the trick.

She leaned forward, pressing her whole body against yours and pinning you to the mattress. Your feet went up over her shoulders, keeping you trapped in the position even as her hands moved from your legs to the mattress. What had previously been slow, shallow strokes turned into faster, brutal thrusts. She pulled the toy nearly completely out of you before slamming it all the way back in. Her hips met yours in a merciless rhythm that left you shaking.

“Fuck! Mama… Mama!” You screamed, trying to reach out and grab her, but unable to get your hands out from under your legs. “Mama… I love you. I love you mama.”

“I love you too, sweet girl,” she said, nearly grunting with the intensity of her movement.

There was a shift that happened sometimes, when things got particularly intense between the two of you. It was like the slipping of a mask, but not in a scary or malicious way. Just Wanda so brutally intoxicated with you that she lost control. Her eyes narrowed and her face hardened. Her breaths came more as grunts than light moans. Her grip on you tightened into something more possessive and domineering. It never failed to drive you crazy.

“Fuck,” she growled, leaning back and moving her hand to your throat. “I’m gonna breed you. I’m going to keep filling you up until you can’t do anything but lay here and wait for me to come back and fill you up again. I’m gonna keep you leaking with my cum until this sweet little belly is all nice and swollen. Would you like that, angel? Do you want mama to keep you nice and full?”

“Yes mama!” you cried. “Please… please mama. Mama I’m gonna cum for you. Please cum inside of me mama. Please cum in…” you were cut short by an orgasm tearing through your body, leaving you speechless and dumb.

Wanda did not let up, continuing to chase her own pleasure. You tried to speak, but you couldn’t get out anymore than incoherent babbles. Wanda grabbed the vibrator she had given you earlier from your hand, turning it on and holding it to your clit. You writhed underneath her, jerking and spasming off the mattress, but she held you firmly in place.

Neither of you could do anymore than whimper or squeak. The only sound in the room was her hips hitting yours and the low thrum of the vibrator.

She let go of your throat, leaning forward again so she could kiss your face. “You're so beautiful, angel. And you feel so good on mama’s cock.” She turned up the setting on the vibrator, burying herself inside of you as deep as she could go. She could feel the vibrations against her own clit now. “Oh angel, mama’s gonna cum inside of you. Mama’s gonna fill you up and give your body everything it wants.” She squeezed the strap as she came, filling you with a warm, thick liquid unlike anything you’d ever felt before.

Wanda slowly pulled out, and gently guided your legs down to a more natural and comfortable position.

You shuttered as you felt the liquid leak out of you and drip down the crack of your ass. You furrowed your brow in confusion. “Mama…” you whined. You were so exhausted you couldn’t do anything but turn your head to look at her.

“Yes, little love?” She said, leaning forward to gently wipe the stray hairs from your sweaty forehead.

“What was that?” You asked breathlessly. “Feels funny…”

“Mama just came inside of you, sweet girl,” she explained quietly, bending down to kiss your head.

“It’s so… warm,” you noted, rolling your head to the side. Your nose pinched uncomfortably as you felt the thick liquid dripping down onto the bed sheets.

Wanda reached her hand back down between your legs, collecting the cum on her fingers and pushing it back inside of you. You whined.

“Shshsh angel,” she cooed. “Mama’s just making sure you stay nice and full, sweetheart. You remember what we talked about, yes? That’s why you’ve been so needy for mama all afternoon. This is what your body wants.”

When she was satisfied, she discarded the strap and laid down behind you, putting her arms under yours and methodically rubbing your stomach. She imagined your stomach swelling with life you created together. What a beautiful display that would be, of your love for each other. She moved your hair aside so she could kiss the back of your neck and the spot up under your ears.

You laced your fingers in hers, resting them just below your navel. “Do you really have to go back to work, mama?” You couldn’t handle it if she left you in here alone, all sweaty and still leaking cum. Surely she would at least carry you to the bathroom, maybe run you a bath and get you cleaned up.

Wanda chuckled and kissed your shoulder blade. “I think Tasha can handle it on her own.” She pulled you closer, rubbing her cheek against your shoulder. She wasn’t exactly sure how she would explain this to her coworker in the morning, but she would be sure to start taking a day off around the same time every month.

—---------

“You want me to…” you asked nervously, but even the idea made your pupils dilate. You had never used that particular strap inside of her. She’d only ever used it on you. It was honestly still a mystery to you, how the thing worked.

Wanda bit her lip and nodded, pulling your hand from her pants. “I mean, only if you-”

“I do!” you interrupted.

She raised her brows and opened her mouth like she was getting ready to chastise you for interrupting, but when she saw the eager, innocent excitement in your eyes, she just sighed. “Okay angel. Let’s go up to your room.”

You practically jumped up off of the couch and raced upstairs, grabbing the strap and shedding your clothes before she could even make it up the stairs. She merely chuckled at your overeager behavior, casually stripping off her own clothes while you fiddled with the harness.

She sat down naked on the end of the bed, helping you secure it around your waist. She pulled at the straps you had already managed to get twisted and tangled, adjusting and tightening it to your body. “Is that too tight?”

You shook your head, waving your hips back and forth to make sure it was snug.

She led your hand to a bulge at the base of the toy. “Now when you’re ready, you’re gonna squeeze right here, okay?”

You nodded, feeling the unfamiliar shape with the pads of your fingers.

Wanda scooted backwards until her head hit the pillows. You followed, crawling on your knees until you were nestled comfortably between her legs.

You were always a little awkward, trying to get the toy in. Luckily Wanda was right there to help. She eased the tip in herself, biting her lip to contain a moan as she did so. “Okay now remember, just start nice and slow.”

You leaned over her, putting your hand against the mattress on either side of her. You stuck your tongue out slightly in concentration, trying to focus on finding a good movement. If you were being honest, you were never particularly good at this part either. But what you lacked in skill, you made up for in determination. You found a slow, and slightly awkward, but steady rhythm.

Wanda hummed delightedly, pulling you down against her. “Mmm… that’s it angel. Nice and slow. Give mama some time to adjust.”

As you continued your easy, slow ministrations, you found yourself being able to go deeper with each stroke. It was only a minute or two before you were all the way inside. If you weren’t actually trying to make her cum, you might just stay like that forever, deep inside of Wanda, feeling her body clench and pulse around you. It felt so natural. More natural to you than anything else in the world. Your bodies fit together like perfect puzzle pieces.

You took the opportunity to crane your neck downward and trace your tongue over her sensitive nipples. She gasped, squeezing her eyes closed and burying her hands in your hair. You sucked the hardened bud into your mouth and gently flicked it with the point of your tongue. Her body was taut like a bowstring, hardly moving under you aside from a few swallow gasps. You moved to the other side, gently circling the exposed one nipple with your fingertip while you did the same with your tongue on the other.

“Keep going, baby,” she panted, arching her chest up into you. She reached one of her hands down to play with her clit. “That feels so good. Mama is so sensitive for you. Mama’s body knows you’re her baby.”

You moaned at her words, your mouth and fingers doubling down. Her body shuttered and you felt her start to pulse around the strap. You felt a surge of warmth pool between her legs. You pulled your head up to look her in the eyes. “Did you just…”

She nodded and chuckled a little bit. “I told you I was sensitive.”

Your eyes went wide. You had never made her cum so fast. But a certain pride swelled up in your chest as you watched her body react to what you were doing. You gained a bit of confidence: enough to start rolling your hips in a steady motion against hers.

The smug chuckle immediately stopped as the strap started to scrap her sensitive walls. The toy was traced with vein-like bumps that scratched at that special spot inside of her. Her hands shot up and wrapped around your back, clawing gently at your shoulder blades and the length of your spine. “Ah!” she squeaked in pleasant surprise. You’d never quite taken initiative like this before. “Good girl. You're making mama feel so good. Keep going, just like that.”

She wrapped her legs around your waist, keeping your thrusts shallow and deep. “Oh god. I want to feel your cum inside of me, angel. You’re gonna make mama feel so full and happy. Tell me you want to cum inside me, sweet girl.”

“I wanna cum inside you mama. I wanna make you feel so full and… and happy. I’m gonna do such a good job for you mama. I promise,” you stammer. The sounds she was making were music to your ears. Her heels dug into your thighs in tandem with her nails on your back. She was everywhere, surrounding you in every way possible. You looked down between her legs, watching the strap slide in and out of her pussy. That was your cock inside of her.

Suddenly, as if it were some trick of your brain, you could feel it, warm and wet, drawing you in again and again. She wanted you to cum inside of her. You wanted to cum inside of her. You wrapped your arms around her back, pulling her slightly up off the mattress as you started to go faster. You buried your face into her neck, muffling your noises.

“Oh fuck,” Wanda panted, bury her hand in your hair. She cradled your head just over her shoulder. “Fuck… you would give me such beautiful babies.”

You whimpered and rutted into her so hard and fast she nearly hit her head on the headboard. She smiled breathlessly. Clearly she got you riled up.

“Did that make you happy? The idea of giving mama a baby?” She asked, turning her head so she was only inches away from your ear.

You whined and nodded, rutting into her again. This time she let out a deep, satisfied moan as she felt the tip of the toy kiss her cervix. “You want to put a baby inside of mama?”

You knew it wasn’t possible, of course. Wanda couldn’t have any more children, and even if she could you certainly couldn’t get her pregnant. Still, the idea tickled your brain in all the best ways. It would be a part of you inside of Wanda. You nodded eagerly, biting your lip. “Mhm.”

You wrapped yourself even tighter around her waist thrusting your hips into her with a new determination. “I wanna hear you say it baby…” she gasped. “Tell mama what you want.”

That was all she needed to say to get the dam to break. As soon as you open your mouth, the words flowed out of you in a flurry of desperation. “I want… I wanna fill you up mama. Please. Please, I need it. Please mama.” You were bucking into her like a virginal teenage boy, erratic and sloppy, like you could actually feel yourself inside of her. “You feel so good, mama.”

“I’m so full,” she breathed. She was so sensitive. You were hitting every spot inside of her while simultaneously laying on her aching chest. “Fuck, angel, you’re filling me up so good. Do you want to feel mama cum on your cock? Do you wanna make mama cum?”

“Yes. Please yes,” you begged, rolling your hips into hers. You sat up a little more, getting a better angle that allowed you to get even deeper inside of her. There was a surge of hunger that shot through you at the sight of her, absolutely beside herself with pleasure underneath you. You reduced her to this. You are the reason she feels so good. In a feeble attempt at dominance, you took her wrists in your hands and pinned them to the bed.

“Yes, baby. Hold mama down and make her take your babies,” she moaned.

You whimpered. You were far too small to even attempt to actually hold her down, but the sentiment still drove you both crazy. You buried the strap as deep as it would go, squeezing the base and releasing inside of her.

She arched up off the mattress, mouth fixed in a perfect “o” shape as she came around you.

You stayed like that for a second, buried inside her until she stopped shaking and collapsed back onto the bed. Slowly, you eased yourself out of her, watching your seed spill out of her. You hadn’t expected it, but there was a certain level of discontentment you felt, seeing your essence drip onto the mattress. You gathered what you could onto the tip of the toy and gently pushed it back in.

She groaned, exhausted and unable to move. You gently eased yourself down to lay on her chest, careful to avoid her tender breasts. You went limp on top of her, merging together in a boneless and sweaty pile of heavy breaths as you both tried to recover.

When she regained the ability to move, she scooted back to sit up against the pillows and moved to stroke your hair. The toy slowly fell out of her, and the warm remnants of your orgasm started to pool on the sheets below. After a long moment of lying lifelessly sprawled out on top of her, you heard her chuckle. You lifted your head to find her smiling down at you in an ecstatic giggle.

“What?” you asked, confused as if you had missed some joke.

“Nothing,” she replied. “I’m just happy.” She craned her neck so she could see your face. She was grinning ear to ear. I was a true smile: one she couldn’t even repress if she tried.

“About what?” you asked, confused. Sex, even good sex, had never left her with such a cheery disposition before.

“Just…” she paused a minute, trying to figure out how to best phrase what she wanted to say. “My body is aching for a baby and then I look down and… you’re here.”

You smiled at that, feeling that you had filled some deep biological need within her just the same as she filled one in you. You looked at her swelling breasts, and you nosed at them in a silent question. She guided your head towards her nipple in a silent answer. Your lips wrapped delicately around the hardened bud, naturally massaging it with your tongue. Much to her dismay, there still wasn’t any milk, but there was a different type of magic to knowing there would be, eventually.

The two of you were working together to create a beautiful thing. It was a sort of tangible proof that her body was responding to you, claiming you as her own. Her breasts were growing for you. Filling with milk they made for you. Because she was your mama, and you were her baby.

[rafecameronssl4t]

more dad Rafe PLEASE, maybe something Christmassy

Christmas Special || Rafe Cameron x fem!reader

A/n: Mabel’s going to be a big sister!!!!!

Warnings: none just fluff!!! Not proofread mb!!

Word count: 652

MASTERLIST (dad!Rafe au masterlist)

Snow fell quietly outside the large bay windows of the Cameron home, turning the estate into a winter wonderland. Inside, warmth radiated from the fireplace, its soft crackle mingling with the faint hum of Christmas music playing in the background.

The living room was a festive haven, with a towering tree decked out in twinkling lights and ornaments, its base crowded with beautifully wrapped gifts. Rafe sat cross-legged on the plush rug in front of the tree, his one-year-old daughter, Mabel, nestled in his lap.

She was dressed in a tiny red dress with a bow clipped to her fine hair, her chubby hands reaching for the jingling ornament Rafe dangled in front of her. “Careful, baby girl,” he murmured, his voice low and tender. “You’ll have the whole tree coming down if you grab too hard.”

Mabel giggled, the sound soft and melodic, as she clutched at the ornament. Rafe’s laugh followed, a sound that warmed your heart as you leaned against the doorframe, heart swelling at the sight. Rafe had always been an incredible father, and moments like these reminded you of just how much love filled your home.

This Christmas, though, was about to get even better. Hidden in your pocket was a tiny box that held news you hadn’t quite figured out how to share yet. “Caught you staring,” Rafe teased, his eyes flicking up to meet yours. His smirk was soft, affectionate. “You coming to join us, or are you just going to admire us from over there?”

You pushed off the doorframe, walking over to him with a grin. “Just thinking about how lucky I am,” you said, settling into his lap. His arms immediately wrapped around your waist, pulling you close. “Lucky, huh?” he teased, nuzzling his nose against your neck. “Pretty sure I’m the lucky one here.”

You brushed a hand over Mabel’s soft hair, your heart swelling as she babbled happily in your arms. “Well, you’re about to get even luckier,” you said, your voice teasing as you reached into your pocket. Rafe raised an eyebrow. “Oh? What’s that supposed to mean?”

Without a word, you handed him the small box. His curiosity was instant, his hands carefully unwrapping it. When he lifted the lid and saw the pregnancy test nestled inside, the air seemed to still. His blue eyes widened, darting from the test to your face. “No way,” he whispered, his voice barely audible.

A wide smile spread across your face as you nodded. “Merry Christmas, Rafe. You’re going to be a dad again.” For a moment, he didn’t move, his expression a mix of shock and overwhelming joy. Then, suddenly, he reached for you, his hand cradling the back of your neck as he kissed you deeply. When he pulled back, his voice was thick with emotion.

“This… this is the best Christmas gift I’ve ever gotten,” he said, his eyes glistening. Mabel, sensing the excitement, clapped her tiny hands, letting out a delighted squeal. Rafe laughed, reaching over to tickle her belly. “And you, little lady, are going to be the best big sister ever,” he said, his tone playful but full of love.

Mabel responded with more babbles, her wide eyes bright and curious. As the three of you sat there, surrounded by the glow of the Christmas tree, you leaned into Rafe, feeling the weight of his arm tighten around you. “Merry Christmas, babe,” he said softly, pressing another kiss to your temple.

“Merry Christmas,” you echoed, your heart full. This was your family, your joy, and your miracle—wrapped in the magic of the holiday season.

[theonottsbxtch]

DONT WANNA BE SAVED | MV1

an: mafia!max i DO want to be saved, please do not mix me up with the main character she's just a bit silly. also single dad!max hmu, yeah? i hope you're aware of how much googling i had to do this for request because i know NOTHING about dressage.

wc: 6.2k

The rhythmic crunch of gravel under the tyres was the only sound that cut through the quiet tension in the air. Max Verstappen drummed his fingers against the steering wheel, his sharp jaw clenched. He wasn’t used to venturing into parts of town that didn’t know his name, but for his little girl, he’d do anything—even if it meant swallowing his pride and knocking on the door of a horse trainer who clearly wanted nothing to do with him.

The GPS barked at him, announcing the final turn. Max squinted through the windscreen at the small, unassuming ranch sprawled out in the middle of nowhere. The place looked sturdy but unpolished, a far cry from the grand estates he usually associated with trainers who were supposedly “the best.” He cut the engine and stepped out, the crisp bite of the afternoon wind tugging at the tailored lapels of his suit.

The barn doors creaked open, and she emerged.

She was nothing like he expected. For someone with a reputation of being the finest dressage instructor on this side of the country, she didn’t look the part. Her hair was loosely tied back, strands falling into her face as she adjusted the cuff of her sleeve. Her boots were scuffed, her hands calloused, and there was a streak of dirt smeared across her cheek. Yet, the confidence in the way she moved was unmistakable—deliberate, purposeful, like she could size him up in a heartbeat and decide exactly how much of her time he deserved.

Max straightened as she approached, his usual commanding air faltering under her cool, appraising gaze. “Mr Verstappen?” she asked, voice calm and low, though there was a slight arch to her brow as she clocked his expensive suit against the rustic backdrop.

“That’s right,” he replied, recovering quickly. “I called about my daughter, Stella.”

“I remember.” Her tone was unreadable as she wiped her hands on her jeans and extended one to him. He hesitated a second too long before shaking it. Firm grip. No nonsense.

“She’s serious about competing,” Max continued, trying to soften the edge in his voice. “I’ve been told you’re the best, and I don’t settle for less when it comes to her.”

The corner of her mouth twitched, almost like a smile, but not quite. “Dressage isn’t about settling or not settling,” she said. “It’s about discipline, patience, and trust. None of which can be bought.”

Max’s jaw ticked at the subtle dig, but he didn’t rise to it. He was here for Stella, not to flex his ego. “You’ll have all the resources you need,” he said instead. “Money isn’t an issue.”

Her eyes flicked to him, sharp as a blade. “Good. Because if your daughter’s going to train with me, I’m going to need more than that.” She turned abruptly, gesturing for him to follow her towards the barn. “I’ll meet Stella, and we’ll go from there. But just so we’re clear—I don’t babysit, and I don’t do miracles.”

Max trailed behind her, a slow smile pulling at the corner of his mouth. She was bold, he’d give her that. Most people were too afraid to speak to him like that. Maybe she really was the best.

His shoes crunched against the gravel as he followed her into the barn. The earthy scent of hay and leather mingled with the faint sweetness of horses, instantly grounding the space. Inside, sunlight filtered through the high windows, casting golden streaks across the straw-scattered floor. A bay mare in one of the stables tossed her head, her ears twitching at the sound of their footsteps.

She leaned against the edge of the stall, absently running her fingers along the edge of the wood. “How old is Stella?” she asked, her voice carrying the clipped efficiency of someone who didn’t waste time on niceties.

“Nine,” Max said, stepping closer. “She’s ridden before, but it’s always been a hobby. Now, she’s ready to take it seriously.”

“Is she?” she asked, glancing at him.

Max frowned slightly. “What do you mean?”

“I mean, is she ready? Or are you?” She crossed her arms, leaning her weight casually against the stable door.

His nostrils flared, but he bit back his instinctive retort. People didn’t question him—not in his world. But this was different. For Stella, he’d let his temper take a back seat. “Stella’s the one who asked. She’s determined, and I support her in whatever she wants.”

For the first time, her expression softened, just slightly. “Good. A lot of parents want this more than the kids. It shows in the way they push them, and that pressure never works. Horses aren’t machines. They pick up on that tension, and it ruins the trust.”

He nodded, though he wasn’t entirely sure he liked being lectured. “Trust, discipline, patience,” he said, his voice taking on a dry edge. “I got it.”

Her lips twitched again, and this time he was certain it was a smile, however faint. “You don’t strike me as the patient type.”

Max chuckled, low and sharp. “You’d be surprised. I know when to wait. I also know when to act.”

Something flickered in her gaze at that, but she didn’t let it linger. Instead, she straightened and pushed open the stable door, letting the mare step out. The horse was sleek and graceful, her muscles shifting smoothly under her polished coat.

“This is Luna,” she said, patting the mare’s neck. “She’s my best. If Stella wants to learn, she’ll start with her.”

“Stella doesn’t have her own horse yet,” Max admitted, studying the animal.

“Good. That makes it easier. Luna’s a good judge of character. If Stella’s nervous, Luna will know. And if Luna doesn’t trust her...” She shrugged, leaving the rest unsaid.

Max raised an eyebrow. “What happens then?”

“She doesn’t ride,” she said simply.

He appreciated her bluntness, even if it grated at him. She wasn’t someone he could charm or intimidate, and oddly, that made him more intrigued.

As if sensing his thoughts, she brushed past him, leading Luna to a bridle rack. “Bring Stella by tomorrow. I’ll see what we’re working with.”

“And what about you?” Max asked, his voice dropping slightly, almost testing.

She turned, brow furrowing. “What about me?”

“You seem to have high expectations,” he said. “If Stella’s the one being judged, does that mean you’ve already made up your mind about me?”

Her gaze lingered on him, steady and unflinching. “You’re not the one I’m here to teach, Mr Verstappen. But if you’re asking...” She paused, her lips curving into the faintest smirk. “I’ve met plenty of men like you. You don’t scare me.”

Max tilted his head, his mouth pulling into a slow, deliberate grin. “Plenty of men like me? Somehow, I doubt that.”

The month following his first meeting with her passed in a blur of early mornings, long afternoons, and the kind of quiet determination that Max had to admit impressed him. Stella had taken to the training better than he could have hoped, and her instructor—well, she’d more than lived up to her reputation.

She was tough but fair, demanding excellence without suffocating his daughter’s enthusiasm. Max had watched every session from the sidelines, arms crossed, keeping a respectful distance but always observing. And more than once, he found his attention drifting—not to Stella, but to her instructor.

There was something about her. A kind of grit that didn’t falter, even when she was teaching patience to a headstrong nine-year-old. Her quiet confidence didn’t demand attention; it commanded it. Max had seen plenty of people fake authority, but she wore it like second skin.

He liked that.

What he hadn’t expected, however, was to see her a month later, in a completely different world.

The pounding bass hit him first, reverberating through his chest as he pushed through the crowd. The club was dimly lit, alive with movement—people dancing, drinks clinking, laughter rising over the music. It wasn’t his usual scene, but a meeting had brought him here, one of those backroom negotiations that needed the anonymity of chaos.

He’d wrapped up the deal without trouble, but as he made his way back to the main floor, something—or rather, someone—caught his eye.

There she was, behind the bar.

Her hair was down, loose waves brushing her shoulders, and she wasn’t in scuffed boots or faded jeans anymore. Instead, she wore a fitted black top and a skater skirt, a thin chain glinting at her neck under the neon lights. She moved with an easy rhythm, pouring drinks and flashing quick smiles to the patrons leaning against the bar.

For a moment, Max thought he’d imagined it. But then she turned slightly, catching his profile out of the corner of her eye, and froze.

Her eyes widened for just a second—barely noticeable—but enough for him to catch it. She recovered quickly, though, tilting her head and raising an eyebrow as if to say, What are you doing here?

Max didn’t answer her unspoken question. Instead, he made his way to the bar, sliding between two drunken men slouched over their cocktails. He rested his elbows on the polished surface, waiting for her to acknowledge him.

“Mr Verstappen,” she said finally, leaning forward slightly. Her voice was calm, but there was a flicker of something else in her expression—annoyance, maybe, or surprise. “Didn’t think this was your kind of place.”

“It’s not,” he admitted, letting his eyes roam the bottles behind her before settling back on her face. “But it seems I’m full of surprises tonight.”

She snorted softly, grabbing a glass and filling it with water. She placed it in front of him, her smirk sharp. “You look like you need this more than a whiskey.”

Max chuckled, low and rough. “Not here for a drink. Just curious.” He tilted his head, studying her. “Didn’t peg you for the nightlife type.”

“Didn’t think you were paying that much attention,” she shot back, wiping her hands on a bar towel.

“More than you realise,” Max murmured. He wasn’t sure if she caught the softness in his tone over the thumping music, but her eyes narrowed slightly, her posture stiffening.

“I could say the same about you,” she replied, shifting her weight. “What’s the boss of half the city doing in a place like this?”

“Business,” he said simply, straightening. “But that doesn’t answer my question.”

She leaned closer, resting her hands on the bar. “You’re full of questions tonight, aren’t you?”

“Just one.” His voice dipped, his gaze unwavering. “Why are you here?”

She rolled her eyes, breaking the tension with a dry laugh. “It’s called having bills to pay, Verstappen. Not all of us have cash to burn. This keeps the lights on when teaching doesn’t.”

Max didn’t miss the edge to her words, and he wondered, not for the first time, just how much she kept buried beneath that sharp exterior. She didn’t need saving—that much was obvious—but the thought of her working this job, with the late hours and the leering patrons, stirred something primal in him.

“How long have you been doing this?” he asked, his voice quieter now.

“Long enough,” she said, shrugging. “And I’m good at it. Don’t look so shocked.”

“I’m not shocked.” He paused, letting the moment hang between them. “But I’m not exactly thrilled, either.”

Her expression hardened slightly, and she straightened, putting more distance between them. “Don’t start with that ‘I know what’s best’ routine. I get enough of that already.”

Max raised his hands, palms out in mock surrender. “No routine. Just... noticing things.”

“Noticed enough, then?” she asked, turning away to serve another customer.

For the first time in a long time, Max found himself on uneven ground. He wasn’t sure if he was impressed, frustrated, or just intrigued. But one thing was certain: she had a way of staying in his head, and it was starting to feel less like an annoyance and more like an inevitability.

As she moved down the bar, he lingered, watching her work. No, she didn’t need saving. But the urge to shield her from this world, to pull her away from the late nights and the reckless strangers, was already starting to claw its way to the surface.

And Max Verstappen wasn’t the kind of man to ignore an instinct like that.

For weeks after the encounter at the club, Max couldn’t shake the image of her behind the bar. It wasn’t just the stark contrast to her usual self—confident, commanding, utterly at home in the arena—but the way it gnawed at something deep inside him.

She didn’t belong in that place, surrounded by cheap cologne and drunken hands reaching for more than drinks. The thought of her dealing with that night after night twisted in his gut like a blade.

It wasn’t just about Stella anymore. He’d grown to respect her over the past month—the way she pushed his daughter without breaking her spirit, the way she handled herself with a quiet strength that most people in his world didn’t have.

That respect, though, was starting to blur into something more. And Max wasn’t sure what to do with that.

He finally brought it up on a crisp Friday morning, just after Stella’s session. The three of them stood by the paddock, Luna grazing lazily a few feet away. Stella was laughing at something, her cheeks flushed from the chill and the effort she’d put into the lesson. Max felt a swell of pride watching her, but his gaze kept drifting back to her instructor.

When Stella wandered off to grab a snack from the car, he seized the moment.

“You’ve been doing good work with her,” he began, his voice low and steady.

She gave him a side glance, adjusting the bridle she was holding. “Thanks.”

“You know,” he continued, his tone carefully casual, “I’ve been thinking about your rate.”

Her hands froze for a split second before she turned to face him fully. “My rate?”

He nodded. “You’re worth more than what I’m paying you. A lot more. I’d like to fix that.”

Her eyes narrowed, suspicion flaring immediately. “Fix it, huh?”

“Yes,” he said, his voice firm but not unkind. “You’re not charging enough for the kind of work you do. I’m doubling it.”

She crossed her arms, tilting her head. “And what’s this really about, Max? Feeling generous all of a sudden?”

“It’s not generosity,” he said, his jaw tightening. “It’s fairness.”

Her laugh was sharp, almost bitter. “Fairness. Right. Is that what you call pity now?”

His brows shot up. “Pity? You think I pity you?”

“What else am I supposed to think? You see me working a second job and suddenly decide to play knight in shining armour?” She shook her head, a hard edge to her voice. “Keep your money, Verstappen. I don’t need your charity.”

“It’s not charity!” His voice rose slightly, and she blinked at the rare flash of frustration. He took a breath, forcing himself to calm down. “Is it a sin,” he said, his voice quieter now, “that I want to make sure you’ve got a roof over your head?”

She stared at him for a long moment, her expression unreadable. Finally, she sighed and leaned against the paddock fence. “You’ve got a hell of a way of showing it,” she muttered.

“What do you want from me?” Max asked, spreading his hands. “You work yourself to the bone here, and then you go to that—” He stopped himself, his voice tight. “That place. And you think I’m just supposed to ignore it? Pretend I don’t care?”

Her lips quirked into a smirk, though there was little humour in it. “Careful, Max. You’re starting to sound like a softie.”

He barked a laugh, but it didn’t reach his eyes. “Yeah, well, that’s what happens when you’re raising a nine-year-old daughter on your own. And her closest friends are her unofficial uncles in the mafia.”

Her brows shot up, and for a moment, her lips twitched like she was fighting the urge to laugh. “That right?”

“That’s right,” he said, his tone lighter now, but his eyes still serious. “And maybe I don’t want to see someone else I—” He stopped, catching himself before he said too much. “Someone I respect running herself ragged.”

She studied him, her gaze softer now, but still guarded. “Max, I’m fine. Really. I’ve been taking care of myself for a long time, and I don’t need anyone swooping in to do it for me.”

“I know you don’t need it,” he said quietly. “But maybe I need to do it anyway.”

The honesty in his voice left her momentarily speechless. She glanced away, focusing on the horizon. “You’re impossible,” she muttered.

“Maybe,” he said, a small smile tugging at his lips. “But I don’t give up easily. Ask Stella.”

“Trust me, I’ve noticed,” she said, shaking her head. “Fine. If you’re so desperate to throw your money around, I’ll let you pay me more. But only because you’ll keep bugging me if I don’t.”

“That’s probably true,” he said with a shrug.

“But,” she added, pointing a finger at him, “if you start thinking this means I owe you something, I will kick you off this property.”

Max grinned, the tension between them easing slightly. “Noted.”

For now, it was enough. But as she walked away, her shoulders straight and her head held high, Max couldn’t help but think that his concern for her was starting to go beyond what he could justify as simple admiration.

And that thought both thrilled and terrified him.

He wasn’t sure when exactly it started happening—the subtle shift from guarded respect to something warmer, more playful. At first, he’d chalked it up to her stubborn streak. She never missed an opportunity to challenge him, whether it was a pointed remark about his suit and tie being out of place at the barn or her light jabs at his overprotective tendencies.

But as the weeks went on, those jabs started to feel less like walls and more like invitations.

It began innocently enough. One morning, Max showed up to Stella’s session with two coffees in hand—one black, the way he liked it, and one sweet and milky, based on an educated guess.

“Here,” he said, holding it out to her as she adjusted a saddle.

She glanced at the cup and then back at him, one eyebrow raised. “What’s this?”

“Coffee,” he replied dryly.

Her lips twitched. “I can see that. What I mean is, why are you giving it to me?”

“Because it’s cold, and I’m not completely heartless,” he said, a faint smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth.

She took the cup, sniffed it cautiously, then sipped. Her eyes lit up for a brief second before narrowing. “Let me guess—someone else made this choice for you, didn’t they? No way you guessed right on your own.”

He grinned. “You caught me. Stella might have mentioned you have a sweet tooth.”

“Mm-hmm.” She set the cup on a nearby ledge, her expression neutral. “Thanks, Verstappen. I’ll try not to read too much into it.”

“You do that,” he said, but his smirk lingered for the rest of the morning.

It was then a Wednesday afternoon, and Max had just arrived at the barn when he caught her pulling a boot from a deep puddle of mud.

“You look like you’re having fun,” he said, leaning against the fence with his arms crossed.

She shot him a look, her nose scrunching. “Don’t start. This is your daughter’s fault, by the way. She decided Luna needed a little adventure off the trail.”

“She’s nine,” Max said, his tone mock-defensive. “You can’t hold her responsible for everything.”

She stomped her now-filthy boot back into place and gave him a pointed once-over. “No, but I can hold you responsible. You’re the one who raised her.”

Max laughed, loud and genuine, and it startled her for a second. She recovered quickly, shaking her head as she brushed past him. “You’re lucky I like Stella.”

“Lucky, huh?” he called after her. “I’ll take that as a win.”

The following week Max was standing at the edge of the paddock, watching Stella trot a clean figure-eight, when he felt her step up beside him.

“She’s getting better,” she said, her voice low and even.

“She’s got a good teacher,” Max replied, not looking away from the horse and rider.

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw her roll her eyes. “Flattery doesn’t work on me, Verstappen.”

“Wasn’t trying to flatter,” he said, turning to face her fully. “Just stating facts.”

She squinted at him, clearly suspicious. “You’re in a good mood today.”

“Maybe,” he said, his smirk returning. “Or maybe it’s just that you’re finally starting to warm up to me.”

She snorted. “Don’t get ahead of yourself.” But her lips curved into a reluctant smile, and Max couldn’t help but feel like he’d scored a small victory.

By the fourth week, the playful banter had become a regular part of their routine. It was after Stella’s lesson, with the late afternoon sun casting golden light over the barn, that Max finally decided to push the boundary just a little further.

“So,” he said casually, leaning against the fence as she packed away the gear. “What do you do for fun? When you’re not working two jobs and pretending you don’t like my coffee.”

She shot him a look over her shoulder. “Why do you care?”

“Call it curiosity,” he said, shrugging. “Or maybe I’m trying to figure out if you’re even capable of fun.”

She laughed, tossing a saddle pad into the tack room. “I’m plenty capable, thank you very much. I just don’t have a lot of time for it.”

“That’s a shame,” Max said, his voice dropping slightly. “Maybe you should make time.”

She paused, turning to face him fully. Her expression was wary, but there was a flicker of something else—something that made his pulse quicken. “And what would I do with all this hypothetical free time?”

“Well,” he said, stepping closer, his tone careful but deliberate, “you could start by letting me buy you dinner.”

Her eyes widened, just a fraction, before she masked her surprise with a smirk. “Dinner, huh? Is this another one of your attempts to ‘make sure I’ve got a roof over my head’?”

Max chuckled, shaking his head. “No. This is me asking you to spend time with me. No strings, no pity money. Just dinner.”

She hesitated, her fingers brushing the edge of the bridle she’d been holding. “You’re serious?”

“Dead serious,” he said, his voice softening. “Unless, of course, you’re too scared.”

That did it. Her chin lifted, and her smirk turned into a full-blown grin. “Scared? Of you? Not likely.”

“Good,” Max said, his own smile widening. “How about Friday night?”

She tilted her head, pretending to consider. “Alright, Verstappen. You’ve got yourself a deal. But don’t think this means I’m going easy on Stella.”

“Wouldn’t dream of it,” he said, his chest lighter than it had been in weeks.

As she turned to finish her work, Max couldn’t help but feel like he’d just won the most important negotiation of his life.

Leading up to that Friday night, Max had been on edge all day, and he didn’t know why.

Everything had been going smoothly—Stella’s training, his business, even his tentative plans for dinner. But there was a gnawing unease in the pit of his stomach that he couldn’t shake. He’d checked his phone more times than he cared to admit, waiting for a text from her confirming their meeting, but the screen stayed stubbornly blank.

By the time the sun started setting, his patience ran out. Max grabbed his keys and headed for his car, his gut screaming at him to go now.

When he pulled up outside her small cottage, the sight of her truck with its tailgate open and half-packed belongings hit him like a punch to the chest.

He stepped out of the car, his brows furrowing as he called out, “What’s going on?”

She looked up sharply, startled. For a split second, he saw something in her eyes—panic, maybe, or guilt—but she masked it quickly, busying herself with stuffing a duffel bag into the truck bed.

“Nothing,” she said, her voice tight. “Just... handling some stuff.”

Max crossed the distance between them in a few long strides, his tone sharp. “Don’t lie to me. What’s going on?”

“I’m not lying,” she said, avoiding his gaze. “It’s none of your business, Max.”

“Like hell it isn’t,” he shot back, grabbing the edge of the truck bed. “We had plans tonight, and now I find you packing up your life like you’re running from something. Talk to me.”

She let out a frustrated sigh, running a hand through her hair. “Look, it’s complicated, alright? I don’t owe you an explanation.”

“You might not,” Max said, his voice lowering, “but I’m not leaving until you give me one.”

For a moment, she stood there, glaring at him like she was debating whether to push him away or tell him to mind his own business. But then something in her resolve cracked.

“Fine,” she muttered. “You want to know? I screwed up when I was younger. Got mixed up with the wrong people—the Tifosi. And now they’ve decided it’s payback time.”

The name hit Max like a freight train. The Tifosi were no joke. Ruthless, calculating, and vindictive, they didn’t let debts slide, no matter how old.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” he asked, his voice tight with a mixture of anger and concern.

“Because it’s not your problem,” she said, her tone sharp. “I don’t need you swooping in to play hero, Max. I’ve handled worse.”

“That’s not the point!” His voice rose, frustration bleeding into his words. “You should’ve told me. I could’ve—”

“Could’ve what?” she snapped, her eyes flashing. “Fixed it? Made it all go away? Newsflash, Verstappen: not everything is yours to control. I don’t need to be saved!”

Max’s jaw clenched as her words sank in. He took a step back, his hands gripping the edge of the truck bed so tightly his knuckles turned white. Then, without a word, he grabbed the duffel bag she’d just loaded and yanked it back out.

“What the hell are you doing?” she demanded, her voice rising.

“You’re not running,” he said firmly, throwing the bag into the back of his car. “You’re coming with me.”

“The hell I am!” She stepped forward, trying to grab the bag, but Max blocked her, his voice like steel.

“Yes, you are. My daughter needs an instructor, and I’m not letting her down because of some silly little debt.”

Her mouth fell open in disbelief, anger flashing across her face. “Silly little debt? Are you out of your mind? You know who they are!”

“I do,” Max said, his tone calm but unyielding. “And I know how to deal with them.”

“You don’t understand—”

“I understand plenty,” he cut her off, stepping closer. “You think you’re the only one who’s had the Tifosi breathing down their neck? You think I don’t know what it’s like to owe them?”

Her eyes widened, her anger faltering for the first time.

“I’ve dealt with them before,” Max continued, his voice softer now but no less determined. “And I’m still standing. You don’t have to do this alone.”

She stared at him, her chest rising and falling rapidly as she tried to process his words. Finally, she shook her head, her voice barely above a whisper. “Why are you doing this?”

“Because,” he said, his gaze locking onto hers, “I don’t let people I care about get crushed by this life. And whether you like it or not, I care about you.”

Her breath hitched, and for a moment, neither of them said anything. Then she turned away, her shoulders tense. “Max, this is a mistake. You don’t need to get involved.”

“It’s not a mistake,” he said firmly. “And you’re coming with me, whether you like it or not. End of discussion.”

Before she could argue, he grabbed the rest of her bags, loading them into his car with a finality that left no room for debate.

She stood there, torn between fury and something she didn’t want to name, as Max closed the trunk and opened the passenger door.

“Get in,” he said, his voice steady but not unkind.

For a long moment, she didn’t move. Then, with a resigned sigh, she walked toward the car and slid into the passenger seat.

As Max got behind the wheel, he glanced at her, his expression softening just enough to show her he meant what he’d said.

“You’re not alone in this,” he murmured.

She didn’t respond, but the way her shoulders relaxed ever so slightly told him she’d heard him loud and clear.

The ride back to Max’s estate was silent, save for the hum of the engine and the occasional crunch of gravel under the tires. She sat stiffly in the passenger seat, arms crossed, her gaze fixed on the road ahead.

Max glanced at her out of the corner of his eye. He wanted to say something, to fill the tense quiet with words that might reassure her, but he knew better. She wasn’t the type to be soothed by platitudes, and besides, she’d made it clear she didn’t want his help.

Too bad, he thought grimly. She was getting it whether she wanted it or not.

When they pulled into his driveway, the sprawling estate loomed in the moonlight, its imposing structure a sharp contrast to her modest cottage. Max stepped out of the car and rounded to the trunk without a word, hauling her bags out with practiced ease.

“Where’s the rest?” he asked as she stepped out of the car.

“The rest of what?” she said, her tone clipped.

“Your horses.”

She blinked, taken aback. “They’re still at the barn. I wasn’t planning on leaving them.”

Max pulled his phone from his pocket, already dialling. “They’ll be here by morning.”

“Wait—what?” she sputtered, her voice rising. “You can’t just—”

“Watch me,” he interrupted, his tone leaving no room for argument.

He spoke briefly into the phone, his words curt and to the point. When he hung up, he turned back to her, his expression calm but firm. “They’ll be transported safely. You’ll have stalls for them here.”

She stared at him, her frustration clear. “You don’t get to make decisions for me, Max.”

He shrugged, hefting one of her bags onto his shoulder. “I just did.”

The house was quiet as they entered, the kind of silence that spoke of thick walls and careful security. Max led her through the spacious halls, his steps sure and unhurried despite the tension in the air.

He stopped at a door on the second floor and pushed it open, revealing a neatly furnished room with warm, neutral tones.

“This is yours,” he said, setting her bags down near the bed.

She glanced around, taking in the plush rug, the antique dresser, and the large window overlooking the grounds. “It’s... nice,” she admitted reluctantly.

“It’ll do,” he said with a faint smirk.

He gestured for her to follow him down the hall, stopping at another door. This time, he knocked lightly before opening it.

Stella’s room was a whirlwind of bright colours and cheerful chaos. Posters of horses adorned the walls, and the bed was covered in a tangle of blankets and stuffed animals.

Stella looked up from where she was brushing her hair, her face lighting up when she saw her instructor. “You’re here!” she exclaimed, bounding over. “Are you having a sleepover?!”

She laughed softly, some of the tension easing from her posture. “Something like that, kiddo.”

“This is so cool!” Stella said, practically vibrating with excitement. “Wait till I tell Uncle Oz—oh, can Uncle Ozzy meet you in the morning? She’ll be so happy!”

Max chuckled, ruffling Stella’s hair. “Alright, alright. You can tell Oscar in the morning. Let her rest she’s just got here. And if anything happens, you call Uncle Lan. Got it?”

Stella nodded solemnly, her big eyes darting between her father and her instructor. “Are you going somewhere?”

“Just for a bit,” Max said, his voice gentle.

She pouted but didn’t argue, which made Max’s heart twist a little. He glanced at her instructor, who was watching the exchange with a quiet intensity.

When they stepped back into the hallway, she turned to him, arms crossed. “Where are you going?”

“Business,” he said simply, heading toward the stairs.

She followed him, her tone sharp. “You mean the Tifosi.”

Max paused, turning to face her. His expression was unreadable, but his eyes held an edge of steel. “I said I’d handle it.”

Her jaw tightened. “You don’t have to do this.”

“Yes, I do,” he said firmly. “They made it my business the second they came after you.”

She stared at him, her emotions warring between gratitude and frustration. Finally, she sighed, shaking her head. “You’re impossible, you know that?”

Max’s lips twitched into a faint smile. “I’ve been told.”

And with that, he was gone, his footsteps echoing down the grand staircase as she stood there, her heart pounding with a mixture of fear and something she couldn’t quite name.

The clock read just past midnight as Max pulled into the driveway, the quiet rumble of his car breaking the stillness of the night. The meeting with the Tifosi had gone as expected—tense, with more threats than he cared to count—but he’d made his position clear. They wouldn’t touch her. Not if they wanted to keep breathing.

He stepped inside the house, letting out a breath as the familiar warmth of home washed over him. The tension in his shoulders eased slightly as he moved through the quiet halls. When he reached the living room, the sight before him stopped him in his tracks.

There they were: his daughter curled up on the sofa, her small frame nestled against the armrest, and next to her, her instructor. The TV flickered softly, showing clips of a younger, brighter version of the woman beside his daughter.

He stood there for a moment, watching as the faint strains of applause and commentary played from the screen. The sight of her expertly guiding a horse through intricate dressage routines stirred something in him. But it was the way she slept now, her head tilted back, her features softened in the glow of the TV, that made his chest ache.

Max stepped closer, careful not to wake them. Stella’s head rested against the woman’s arm, her little hand clutching a stuffed horse. Max smiled faintly, his heart swelling as he reached down to scoop his daughter up.

Stella stirred slightly, her eyes fluttering open for a moment before closing again. “Daddy?” she mumbled sleepily.

“Shh,” Max whispered, kissing her temple. “Just putting you to bed, sweetheart.”

She sighed contentedly, already slipping back into sleep as he carried her upstairs. After tucking her in, he noticed her water bottle was empty and picked it up to fill it in the kitchen.

When Max made his way to the kitchen, he found Lando leaning against the counter, tidying up a canister of cocoa powder.

“Lando?” Max said, his brow furrowing. “What are you doing here?”

Lando turned, his usual smirk firmly in place. “Emergency call.”

Max raised an eyebrow. “Emergency?”

“Your kid called me in a panic because you’re apparently out of hot chocolate powder. Thought the world was ending.” Lando chuckled, placing the canister in its rightful spot. “I brought some over, but they knocked out before I could even make it.”

Max let out a low laugh, shaking his head. “Thanks. I owe you.”

Lando waved a hand dismissively. “No big deal. I live for the drama. Besides, it’s Stella. She’s got me wrapped around her finger.”

Max smiled, grateful for his friend’s unwavering presence. “Get home. You’ve done enough.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Lando said, grabbing his coat. “Good luck with her, though.” He gestured vaguely toward the living room with a knowing look before heading out.

Filling up the water bottle and putting it back in its place Max returned to the living room, finding her still sound asleep on the sofa. The TV had switched to a dim, idle screen, and her breathing was soft and even.

He crouched down beside her, brushing a stray strand of hair from her face. For someone so fierce and guarded, she looked almost fragile like this. Vulnerable.

Without a second thought, he slipped his arms under her, lifting her gently. She stirred, her head naturally finding its place against his chest.

“Max?” she mumbled, her voice thick with sleep.

“It’s me,” he murmured, his voice low and soothing.

She shifted slightly, nuzzling closer into him. “Thank you,” she whispered, barely audible.

His heart twisted at the simple words, and he tightened his hold on her instinctively.

“Always,” he said softly, carrying her upstairs.

When he reached his room, he laid her down carefully on the bed, pulling the blankets over her. She murmured something incoherent, her lips curving into a faint smile.

Max stood there for a moment, watching her as she drifted back into deep sleep. The weight of the night’s events pressed on him, but so did the warmth of knowing she was safe, here in his home, with his family.

For the first time in a long time, it felt like he wasn’t just protecting someone—it felt like he was building something

the end.

taglist: @alexisquinnlee-bc @carlossainzapologist @oikarma @obxstiles @verstappenf1lecccc @hzstry8 @dying-inside-but-its-classy @anamiad00msday

[hoe4hotchner]

Aaron Hotchner x non bau rich reader. Hotchner see's reader be all professional CEO and telling her that she looks hot when talking about work.

Girl Boss | [A.H]

Pairing: Aaron Hotchner x rich fem!reader| WC: 0.6k | CW: girlbossing

The sharp click of your heels resonated within the room. Sunlight streamed through the towering glass windows behind you, casting your silhouette against the long table where half a dozen personnel sat, their pens poised and eyes alert.

"Let me be clear," you began, your voice cutting through the silence. "We are not pushing this launch back again." Your words were sharp enough to make even the most seasoned executive in the room sit a little straighter. You placed your hands on the table's edge, leaning forward slightly, the subtle move reinforcing your authority.  

"I expect finalized projections on my desk by tomorrow morning. No excuses. No oversights," you continued. "If there are any further delays, we’ll be having an entirely different kind of meeting. Understood?"

The collective murmurs of agreement followed swiftly, though not without a trace of hesitation. Your gaze swept the table, catching each person’s eye for a split second, long enough to cement your expectations but short enough to keep your employees at bay.  

"Good," you said, straightening up. Your expression softened by a degree — but only a degree. "Meeting adjourned."

Aaron had been leaning casually against the doorway to your office, his hands tucked into the pockets of his coat as he observed the scene unfolding. His eyes tracked your every movement, and there you were — fierce and assertive — commanding the room in a way that made it impossible for anyone to look away. Including him.  

He didn’t interrupt, content to watch as you had delivered your final order, and dismissed the room. His gaze lingered, marveling at the way you held everyone’s attention.  

Finally, your eyes found him. You turned and strode out of the room, the rhythm of your heels once again filling the space.

"Aaron," you said, your voice losing the edge it carried moments before as you walked toward him. Behind you, the meeting’s attendees began packing up. "You’re early."

"Traffic was light," he replied. He tilted his head slightly, his smirk deepening as he added, "Should I call you ma’am now, or will boss suffice?"

You rolled your eyes. Still, you couldn’t keep the small smile from tugging at your lips.  

"Come on," you said, closing the distance between you and reaching for his arm. Your fingers brushed against the sleeve of his coat. "We’re done here."

Aaron pushed off the doorframe and let you lead him, his smirk lingering as he fell into step beside you. Whatever commanding personality you projected in the boardroom, he knew the softer version of you just as well — and he loved both sides equally.  

The elevator was empty when the two of you stepped inside. His arm came around you without hesitation, his hand finding the small of your back. "Long day?"

"You have no idea," you admitted, closing your eyes as you allowed yourself to rest against him. "Sometimes I forget why I even started this."

Aaron chuckled softly, his breath warm against your temple as he leaned down slightly. "I think I just remembered," he said with a teasing tone as his lips brushed the shell of your ear.  

You opened your eyes, pulling back just enough to meet his gaze, an eyebrow arching in curiosity. "Oh?" you prompted.  

"You," he replied without missing a beat. "You look unbelievably hot when you're bossing people around. I should make you talk about profit margins more often."

A surprised laugh bubbled out of you before you could stop it, your hand instinctively swatting at his chest. "You’re ridiculous," you said, shaking your head, though the smile that stretched across your face betrayed your words.  

"Ridiculously in love," he countered smoothly, his hand at your back pulling you just a fraction closer, as though he couldn’t stand the thought of even an inch of space between you.  

The elevator glided to a stop, the faint ding marking your arrival at the parking level. Aaron glanced at the doors as they began to slide open, then back at you. "Come on, CEO," he said, "let me take you home."

[wwooyology]

How Could You? | P.SH

「prompt」 : spare me 「pairing」 : bf!sunghoon x fem!reader 「word count」 : 1.6k

「synopsis」 : while you have been working hard to build a life for you and sunghoon, he was out living his best life. though all of your hard work crumbles when word gets out that sunghoon had been seen with another girl in the club.

「genre」 : angst

「warnings」 : cussing, crying, mentions of pregnancy, cheating, small argument, confrontation, mention of divorce, lmk if I missed anything!!!

「notes」 : me watching too many short Chinese dramas part two... but we're almost done with angstober, how are you guys feeling thus far?

masterlist ─ navi. ─ angstober list

“Congratulations Mrs. Park,” The doctor smiled at you sweetly as he handed you the test report. You looked down with glossy eyes, reading the words over and over in your head.

‘Pregnant’

It felt like a dream come true. You had just gotten a massive promotion at work, so you would be bringing home more money for yourself and Sunghoon. You were entirely grateful that you could support him while he continued his studies, and now you could even start growing your own family with him.

After quickly thanking the doctor, you made your way out of the hospital into the waiting car parked in front of the building. The driver greeted you with a smile as he held the door open for you, his hand covering the top to protect you from hitting your head.

“Are we headed home, Ma’am?” He asked as he got into the driver's seat, starting up the car, causing a low rumble to be heard around you.

Returning his smile through the rearview mirror, you nodded, “Yes.”

Then, with a nod of his head, he turned his attention back to the road in front of you, pulling out of the parking lot. You settled into your seat, hands resting in your lap with the test results and your eyes staring out the window. A happy grin spread on your lips at the thought of telling Sunghoon about all of the good news that you had received.

Just then, you felt your phone buzz in your hands, tearing your gaze away from the window. Turning your screen on, you see a message from your best friend, Yeji, who also just happens to be Sunghoon’s little sister. A giddy feeling bubbles in your chest at the thought of telling her that she was going to be an aunt soon, but when you opened your phone, all of that happiness that you once felt washed away in an instant.

‘Where are you y/n? Have you seen the news?’

Her question worried you, had something happened to Sunghoon or either of your families? Panicked, you quickly backed out of the messages and into the first social media app you found. It took you a few moments and reloads before it finally popped up.

And bile rose up the back of your throat.

You reread the headlines over and over and over and over again, and you so deeply wished that your first worry had been true instead of this.

‘The Renowned Son of the Park's, Park Sunghoon, Seems to Have Reverted Back to His Old Playboy Ways.’

Tears blur your vision as you read more before looking at the pictures and videos of Sunghoon sitting in a nightclub with females surrounding him, some perched on his lap, his hands in places a married man definitely shouldn’t have his hands in. Completely in awe, you backed out with shaky hands and went back to message Yeji, asking her if she knew which nightclub he was at. She gave you the name and address before telling you that she would meet you there.

“Change of plans,” you said, leaning forward to talk to the driver, trying your best to keep the tears that pooled in your eyes at bay.

–

Anger and hurt bubbled in your gut as you stormed into the club, ignoring the people who greeted you along the way. The music that blared through the speakers made your head spin as the bass vibrated the ground beneath your feet. Steeling yourself, you looked around the packed room, trying to find that blonde male you knew was somewhere around here.

“Are you looking for someone, Miss?” A worker walked up to you with a smile, and you nodded slowly, closing your eyes and then going back to scan the crowd.

“I’m looking for my husband.” Your words were curt, and her smile faltered for a moment before she was able to replace it once more.

“What’s his name? I can see if he’s on our list.” She told you nicely despite the unease that was growing in her gut.

You opened your mouth to tell her your husband's name, but you were cut off when a hand landed on your shoulder and a voice was heard from behind you.

“Park Sunghoon,” Yeji told the worker, and the poor girl visibly paled, a ball forming in her throat as she looked between the pair of you. However, she was taking too long for both your and Yeji’s taste. "Do you or do you not know where he is?”

Swallowing thickly, the worker nodded her head before motioning behind her, “Follow me.”

Yeji laced her arm through yours as the both of you followed behind the girl, ignoring any and all of the looks you were receiving along the way. However, despite your best efforts to ignore the lingering comments, you couldn’t ignore them all.

“Isn’t that Mr. Park’s wife?” someone off to your right whispered to her friend who sat next to her. "Has he finally been caught?”

Noticing where your attention was, Yeji tugged on your arm before nodding towards the table in the far back corner. There, sitting in the middle of the bench, one hand holding a half-empty glass of liquor and the other wrapped around another girl’s shoulder, was none other than your husband.

Seeing him act like this without a care in the world shot an arrow right through your heart. All of these years that you had worked your ass off to make sure that you both could live happily in the future seemed to have been in vain. Because while you were working overtime almost every night, he was out doing god knows what at this very nightclub.

“Sunghoon, how could you?” Yeji was the first to speak, stomping her foot as she held onto your arm.

At the sound of his sister's voice, Sunghoon’s head snapped in your direction, a look of panic flashing across his features. He tore his arm around from the girl next to him and placed the glass on the table before he stood to his feet.

“Y-Yeji, what are you doing here?” Sunghoon asked with a slight quiver in his tone. His eyes solely locked onto his sister, seeming to have not noticed you standing there next to her.

“How could you be so shameless? You’re cheating on y/n while she’s out there working effortlessly to support you.” She scolded the older male and that’s when he finally noticed you standing there next to his sister, tears clinging to your eyelashes as you just stared at him.

Even with all of the apparent evidence in front of you, you didn’t want to believe that he could actually do something like this to you. Your eyes then flickered up to meet his, panic and guilt swirling in his dark iris’.

“Y/n–”

“How long?” You cut him off, biting your tongue to keep the tears that so desperately wanted to fall at bay. 

Sunghoon moved around the table to reach out towards you, “I wasn’t–”

“How. Long?” You enunciate each word as you take a step away from him, wanting to keep as much distance between you as possible.

“Six months.” He breathed out, his shoulders slumping and his head dropping down, guilt starting to eat at the back of his mind.

You felt a lump form in your throat as you stared at him, completely astonished; your hand instinctively went to your stomach. Recalling the doctor's test results, you were only a month or so along, meaning that while he lay with you in bed, he was also keeping other women company as well. You suddenly felt sick to your stomach, causing you to hunch over.

“Y/n!” Yeji exclaimed, grabbing onto your arms tightly and helping you stand back onto your feet.

Sunghoon moved to grab a hold of you as well, but you shoved his hands away. A glare adorned your features as you looked up at him.

“If this is what you want, then don’t let me stop you.” Your tone was bitter, and your eyes burned with tears as you held onto Yeji. "But don’t expect me to be waiting when you get home.”

Yeji then helped you turn to walk away, but of course, Sunghoon wasn’t going to give up that easily. He reached out, grabbing your arm to make you turn to look at him.

“Please, y/n, we can talk about this.” His eyes pleaded with you, but all of the sympathy that you once felt for him was gone, smothered with his own two hands.

“There’s nothing to talk about, but do me a favor…” You once again shoved his hands away from you, silent tears falling from your glossy eyes, “sign the divorce agreement when my assistant brings it to you.”

And without another word you grabbed onto Yeji’s arm and walked with her back out of the nightclub, leaving Sunghoon there to stare at the spot you were once standing in. His whole world crumbled in just mere minutes.

You sat in your car, the silence almost comforting as your driver took both you and Yeji back to her place where you would be staying for the time being. Your hand then moved the rest on your stomach, your thumb brushing along your clothed abdomen.

“I’m sorry little one, but it’ll be better this way…” You whispered as more tears spilled from your eyes.

Noticing your distress, Yeji wrapped her arm around you, pulling you into her side so you could rest your head against her shoulder. She tried her best to comfort you as you cried in her arms until you finally cried yourself to sleep, hoping that this all was just some cruel dream that you would wake up from in no time.

But you weren’t in a dream and you would only wake up more heartbroken than when you had fallen asleep.

@wwooyology | Do not steal, plagiarise, translate, or repost any of my work

𝖉𝖎𝖘𝖈𝖑𝖆𝖎𝖒𝖊𝖗 : ᴛʜɪꜱ ɪꜱ ɴᴏ ᴡᴀʏ ᴀ ᴛʀᴜᴇ ʀᴇᴘʀᴇꜱᴇɴᴛᴀᴛɪᴏɴ ᴏꜰ ᴀɴʏ ᴏꜰ ᴛʜᴇ ᴍᴇᴍʙᴇʀꜱ. ᴛʜɪꜱ ɪꜱ ᴘᴜʀᴇʟʏ ꜰɪᴄᴛɪᴏɴ ᴀɴᴅ ꜰᴏʀ ᴛʜᴇ ᴇɴᴊᴏʏᴍᴇɴᴛ ᴏꜰ ᴛʜᴇ ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ ᴀɴᴅ ɴᴏᴛ ᴛᴏ ʙᴇ ᴛᴀᴋᴇɴ ꜱᴇʀɪᴏᴜꜱʟʏ.

[topguncortez]

For Her Hand - Jake Seresin x Shy!Wifey

opposites attract masterlist || main masterlist

synopsis: Jake has always been cool and collected under pressure, but setting across the table from one of the Navy's most infamous legends to ask for his daughter's hand in marriage?? Well, that's enough to make anyone crack under pressure

word count: 1.7k

warnings: none? cursing, mentions of death, mentions of pregnancy, mentions of religion

Jake was sweating. 

He probably had sweat stains on the underarms of his dress shirt, and he was now worried that he was going to have to use the bathroom before James got here. Tonight was the night that Jake was going to ask for Y/N’s hand in marriage. . . even though he already proposed. 

Jake knew he was doing it all backwards. He had already gotten an ear full from his mother when they called her several months ago to tell her the news of Y/N’s pregnancy. Jake never wanted it to be like this, no, he was raised to be a true gentleman. He was supposed to court the girl for a couple of months, and then ask her father and the church for their blessing to get engaged, then there would be a big party on his family’s ranch to celebrate the engagement and then there would be a huge wedding ceremony that was more about showing off to his parents’ friends than about him and Y/N. 

But there was something about Y/N, that made Jake throw all expectations out the window. From the moment Jake saw her from across the Hard Deck, he knew he was going to spend the rest of his life with her. That moment he stepped off the carrier and went straight to her house to find her covered in dirt, he knew that she was going to be the mother of his children. That he would come home to her every single time. Every night he dreamt of the life they would have together, the names of their children, what they would look like, the big house he would build her, and the garden that she would spend hours out in. 

Jake hadn’t always had a good reputation when it came to women, and it was pretty well known. Throughout the academy and flight school, it wasn’t uncommon to see Jake leave with a new woman. There was a part of him who had spent years searching for the person to fill the void in his heart that had been festering from years of striving for his father’s attention and love. And Y/N was the person who filled it in a very healthy way. 

When James first heard about Jake’s and Y/N’s relationship, he was not thrilled. He had seen flyboys like Jake before. He knew what they got up to on postings and detachments, and didn’t want his daughter to join the club of broken hearts. He had also seen and heard the broken cries of their partners when an officer walked off the ship and handed them a neatly folded flag. James felt ill every time he thought about his daughter being in that position. 

But then he saw how they interacted with each other at the Naval ball, and Vice Admiral James “Hercules” Parker was proven wrong. He could see the love that Jake had for his daughter. And even though nothing was promised in their line of work, James knew he couldn’t stand in the way of true love. 

Jake wiped his hands on his pants for what seemed like the thousandth time that hour as he looked around the restaurant for James. He felt like dinner was a more professional way to ask to marry his daughter than doing it over drinks at the Hard Deck or a round of golf, or blurting out in the middle of a meeting (like Coyote had done with Warlock). What made his nerves stay somewhat at bay was that Jake was kind of doing this all backward. He had already proposed to Y/N when he came home from his last deployment and she had said yes. Blame it on the heat of the moment and being a hair's breadth away from death, but Jake couldn’t wait any longer without making her his forever. And she was already pregnant with his child, and James and Clara had already accepted him into their family. 

“Jacob,” James said as he walked to the table. Jake stood up and greeted James with a handshake, “Missing Thursday night football for this.” 

“I’m sorry sir,” Jake said and took another drink of his water. James eyed him suspiciously, seeing the young man's hands shake, as a waiter walked to the table. 

“Anything to drink for you two, tonight?” The waiter asked. 

“Top-shelf whiskey,” James nodded, “Make that two, neat.” 

“Oh, I’m good with water,” Jake said. The waiter nodded and went to go get their drinks, “Sorry, I’m just a bit nervous.” 

“I can see that,” James said, “Didn’t think that the ‘Hangman’ could get nervous,” Jake cringed at the way James said his call sign as if it were some sort of dig. Some sort of pass to let Jake know that he wasn’t good enough for his daughter, “What’s on your mind son? How’s Y/N and the baby?” 

“Good, they’re both good. She’s pissed, uh,” Jake cleared his throat, “Sorry, upset, that Clara won’t let her dig the flower beds.” 

“It’s not good for pregnant women to be digging in soil,” James responded, his voice void of emotion and staring Jake down like he was an idiot. 

“Right, yes! I knew that from the parenting books,” Jake nodded, remembering one of the only facts he had retained from those books, “Anyway, I uh,” Jake scratched the back of his neck, trying to gather his thoughts, “I love you, daughter,” James nodded, “A-and I did this whole thing backward and I apologize for it. My dad drilled into my head that you always ask for permission first before you do anything with another man’s daughter-” 

“Or get her pregnant.” 

“Yeah, I’m sorry for that too. But sir-” 

“James,” 

Jake nodded, “James, I don’t ever want to see a day where your daughter is not by my side. When I thought I wasn’t going to make it back to her. . . well, it was the worst thing ever. I had to make a promise to her when I got back on solid ground, and I did. And now, I gotta make it right. If you would please grant me the blessing, I would love to marry your daughter.”  

James looked at him for a moment, the silence becoming so thick between the two men. Jake felt a cold sweat go down his spine, but then he saw a smile break out across James’ face, “I knew this would come sooner or later. I was hoping for later, but,” He reached into his pocket and pulled out a black ring box, “She used to wear this around the house as a little girl. It was my mother’s.” 

James placed the box on the table and Jake gingerly picked it up. Inside sat a beautiful diamond attached to a silver band. The diamond had to be nearly three carats and had smaller diamonds around it. Jake looked up at James, tears brimming his eyes. 

“I’m sorry I didn’t ask-” 

James shook his head, cutting Jake off, “I did the same thing nearly thirty years ago,” James chuckled, “I lost my wingman and almost burned in myself. The moment I got home to Clara, I told her that I could not go back up into the sky without knowing I was going to have her forever. Then she dragged me to the courthouse that same day,” James shook his head with a smile, “I knew this moment was coming at some point in time, when 'dad' stopped being the only man in her life. The only man she looks at with those eyes. No dad is ever ready for that day, and one day, hopefully, you'll have the same experience."

Jake could only imagine the day he would have a little girl and hoped she’d look like Y/N. He could see it now, a beautiful daughter that had her mother’s beautiful eyes and smile, and her personality. If she was born with Jake’s. . . lord help them all, she was going to be a firecracker. 

“Does this mean that I. . .” 

“You have my blessing to marry my daughter.” 

— — — 

After dinner was over, Jake probably broke every traffic law to get home to Y/N. He smiled as he noticed the lights in the backyard were on and the sound of her giggle was in the air. He could hear the small barks of the German shepherd puppy he had gotten her as a companion for when he’s gone on deployments. Jake grabbed the bouquet of pink carnations and basically skipped to the backyard. 

“Bring it back, Steve!” Y/N called as the puppy hustled his way back to his owner, “Good boy!” Steve’s attention turned the second that the gate to the backyard was opened. Even for a puppy, his barks were still loud, startling Y/N. She turned around, seeing Jake standing there with a goofy grin on his face. 

“What are you-” 

“Marry me,” Jake said, cutting her off. 

Y/N giggled, “Sweetheart, I already said yes. Did you hit your-” 

“Nope,” Jake shook his head and walked over to where she was kneeling on the ground. Steve growled a bit as Jake got close to his mother, “Hey, I was the one who adopted you and let you chew on the seatbelts in my truck.” Steve gave Jake a look, before trotting off into the backyard, “Animals.” 

“Be nice,” Y/N playfully scolded, and sat down in the grass. Her hand rested on her growing bump, which had popped a few days ago, and had become Jake’s latest obsession to touch, “How did dinner go?” 

“Went great,” Jake said, sitting down next to her and pulling her into his lap. He rested his large hand on top of her’s, “He gave me his blessing and gave me this,” Jake pulled out the ring from his pocket. 

Y/N gasped, “My nana’s ring! Oh my god, I thought I lost that!” 

“Your dad kept it and gave it to me,” Jake said. He grabbed Y/N’s hand and took off the fifteen-dollar ring he bought at Target that was slowly starting to turn green, “Now, we can make it official,” Y/N turned her head to look at him, “What do you say, Mrs. Seresin?” 

Y/N smiled and turned in his lap so she was straddling him, “I think you should’ve told him I’m already Mrs. Seresin, but. . .” She tilted her head back and forth, “Baby steps.” 

“Yeah, yeah, baby steps,” Jake smirked as he wrapped his arms around her waist and flipped them over. Y/N’s giggles filled the air as Jake pressed kisses all over her face. Her ring glittered in the moonlight.

note: happy Valentine's Day or whatever

taglist: @sio-ina-bottle @kmc1989 @soulmates8 @averyhotchner @fandom-life-12 @jazminlahey20 @jessicab1991 @reidshearts @princess76179 @dizzybee03 @dempy @kellyls04 @daddymack01 @beautifulandvoid @noonenuts @bradleybeachbabe @its-the-pilot @buckysteveloki-me @shibble @a-library-ofmy-own @fanfictionismyhobby @emilyoflanternhill @seitmai @moonlessnight14 @hardballoonlove @sgt-barnesveins @vhkdncu2ei8997 @1nterstellarcha0s @krispybearbouquet @a-serene-place-to-be @seresinslady @na-ta-sh-aa @milestomaverick @itsmytimetoodream @topgunslut @yuckosworld @angelbabyange @pedrohoe04 @midnightmagpiemama @lynnevanss @ummjustfics @thegoddessc @mrsevans90 @mjsvinyl @luversgirl @silenthappyplace @buckysvinyl

[twistedpink]

Rook Hunt x Shapeshifter!Reader

The hardest thing you’ve ever done in your long, long life is climb the corporate ladder. The idol one, to be precise. Humans just can’t be pleased! It’s proven! With all your visual tweaks, and genre changes, and half-assed performances (that was later - your first couple debuts were flawless), you’re done. Officially, depressingly, quitting. The only thing to do with all the names and character ideas in the back of your head is retire, and focus on the “natural” path. Eating the people you wanted to have love you. In a way, it’s not all that different..

You’ll almost miss the limelight- Certainly not the stalkers and spandex, but definitely the attention. The best place in the modern world to avoid your past identities, believe it or not, is the city! Morphing into someone approachable’s easy game- You smooth out your celebrity cheekbones, let the fat of your chest and thighs redistribute into an average body, and when you’re just about done changing the shape of your teeth, it’s time to meet up with your date!

Humans are easy, a breed of mundane that you’d never find among your own kind- So unguarded in this era of seeing thousands of faces, how are you supposed to pick out things to steal if you don’t have firsthand experience? A mole here, or a scar there, human features definitely outweigh their.. Unfortunate intelligence.

Your date is perfect, as they always are with you. A tall, sunkissed blonde with a strong nose and stronger accent. He’s nothing short of beautiful- So much so you’d offered dropping by your place for some drinks. You wouldn’t mind taking a peek at something a bit more,, personal. He’s gullible enough to agree without further debate. They all are.

You’ve observed him the entire conversation- How his hands are calloused from work in the field, or the way his eyes react dollishly with your every word, not a thought behind those livestock eyes. He looks clean but doesn’t smell it.. He either doesn’t shower enough, or he’s peaked your senses,, You’ve been known for standing to attention with pretty boys.. Your eyes dilate when he speaks. He runs at 62 bpm, his eyes have little specks of gold, and GOD he’s trying to hold your hand! HOLD! HIS! HAND! YOU WILL DIE IF YOU DONT HOLD HIS HAND!

You’re sitting in the same booth, hot coffee sits in front of the both of you- You’re far too distracted to take a drink. You want him, Worse than you’ve ever wanted anything. The bay window’s light bathes him, like an angel.. You’re determined to make him a star. Once you’ve taken his body, of course. He’ll be your pretty muse! Give you motivation for the stage again! Your Rook. It’s torture to not lean into him, you want a bite,, :(

His vacant hand on the table reaches for his mug, and you see it happen like a stone coming at a glass house. It’d be too suspicious to react. You have to let it burn you. With a tink against the table, boiling coffee spills over the edge and onto your empty hand- Mercifully avoiding your date. While he goes to fetch a tissue, (stretching deliciously across the table) the offending wound flashes bright blues and greens in an attempt to colour match.. You really, truly hope you don’t have to explain away anything he might’ve seen. You don’t have the energy for that right now - much less to wipe yourself clean, so you let him do it. You’ve always fancied having a human or two wait on you.

“Ah! Ma puce! A touch off topic, but have you ever followed the lives of celebrities? I’m quite the fanatic, myself.”

Not one to fumble a hunt, you acquiesce. He’s a skilled multi tasker- The best a human can be, at least,,

“I do! I’m a super-fan of a newly retired poster girl for this hyperpop group,, totally gonna’ miss her stuff. Why do you ask?”

“Funny, you really do remind me of her.. In your own way. A fun coincidence, no?”

You consider, briefly, brushing him off- Ditching the project and skipping town,, There’s no point staying if your disguise isn’t perfect. Then again, why are you running in the first place from prey? This is your first human with the intuition to recognize you, even if it’s passing, you need to see how this plays out. You can’t help wondering if you might enjoy being hunted for once, if he’s really so good. The only way of knowing is to jump headfirst!

“So, how’s your schedule next Friday?”

@bju3c0re

[nellielsss]

+†+🪦 A Pɾσρҽɾ Bʅαƈƙ Bυʅʅ Wҽʅƈσɱҽ!

Summary: when you date a Magic Knight Captain, it's only a matter of time until you meet their Knights! A/N: just some fluff for Yami! I tried to include as many characters as I could but I'm still getting used to writing multiple chars in one scene. Pairing: Yami Sukehiro x fem!reader CW: swearing, suggestive jokes

╰┈➤ "Is this really where Suke lives?" you asked nobody as you approached his base. "He's always told me not to visit, but this place is just... creepy. Still, I feel bad for making him visit me all the time. Why not pay him a surprise visit?"

You had been dating the famed Captain of the Black Bulls, Yami Sukehiro, for a few months--4 to be exact--and things were starting to get serious with him.

But they were never serious enough for you to meet his squad.

Sure, you had seen them in passing, tagging along with him on missions, but you've never met the Black Bulls in person. It was like they were his kids that he never wanted you to meet for whatever reason. Whenever you tried to ask him if you could meet them, he'd always say: "Nah, not happening. I don't need you meeting those knuckleheads; they'd probably blabber some stupid story and scare you off, and I don't need that."

For the better part, he actually made the effort to go and see you wherever you were. He'd venture as many miles as needed in order to do so. He also just never introduced you to the public in general because he was scared of someone going after you for a vendetta or revenge against Yami (he was a man with many enemies, after all). So, he was content with just going on private dates in secluded bars or spending the night at your place. Any chance he could take to spend time with you, he'd snatch it right up.

Why did you venture to the secretive Black Bulls hideout in the first place? Well, Yami had been busy with training for a while. The missions were swamping him, and his efforts to keep the devils at bay were, inadvertently, keeping your relationship at bay as well. He never had any time to leave the hideout unless it was to go on a mission or to an official summons, and because you were basically forbidden from going to HQ, it meant all you could do was communicate via letters.

And you were sick and tired of it.

You were an impatient girl. You didn't like being basically banned from seeing your boyfriend, no matter how legitimate his causes or concerns were.

You haven't had dick in ages--you were starting to lose feeling down there!! And lord knows his dick was good, so good it left you unable to walk on several occasions.

But you weren't there just to fuck him (although it was a big bonus of dating him); you were there to mend your little broken heart.

So, that's how you wound up on their doorstep. You went at a time which you knew it'd be empty, so you were sure you wouldn't have to meet those bulls. Even if he, himself, was out, you could just wait in his room as a little welcome home surprise.

"I don't suppose I have to knock before entering," you muttered, grabbing the latch of the door and opening the giant wooden slab. Just as you'd expected: the place was empty. Not a peep to be heard throughout the entire tower of oddly shaped rooms and windows that were jutting out of the wrong places.

"Well, this sure ain't too bad. I thought it'd be in ruins by the way Suke described it," you thought to yourself. As you stepped on the cobblestone floors and ventured inside the place, you took note of it. It had a certain charm to it, like a cozy tavern you'd seek refuge from a storm in. There were torches lit up by mana, different flags hanging from the walls, and a big bar in the left side of the room. "If he wasn't so protective of me, I could imagine myself living here with him..."

"Hello... who are... you?" a ghostly voice suddenly said from the hallway.

"Gah! Wait- is it seriously haunted? Was Sukehiro telling me the truth this whole time?!" You immediately hid behind a couch when you saw the mint-haired man standing there.

"I'm... not... a... ghost! I... keep... this... place... running," the ghost said.

"Are you sure? Because you certainly don't look too- gah!" this time, you were surprised to feel that all your mana was being drained from you, simply by being close to the man.

"I'm.. sorry... I... drain... people's... mana... on... accident. Don't... stand... too... close."

"Figured as much," you muttered, somehow able to break free from the man's mana pull. "I knew I shouldn't have come here... I thought all of you would be out for the day."

"You... didn't... answer... my... question. Who... are... you?"

"Oh, right... sorry about that," you said, rubbing the back of your neck, "I'm, uh... I'm Captain Yami's girlfriend. I came here hoping that none of you would be around, but it seems as though I made a mistake. I thought all of you would be on missions for sure!"

The man's ghostly face lit up in surprise when he realized who you were. "Oh! I... know... you... or, at least... I've... heard... of you... Captain Yami's... always... talking... about... some girl... who... he's... been... dating. We all... just... thought... that he... was... lying."

"You seriously thought that he was lying?" you asked in disbelief. "Then again, he is an acquired taste... Anyway, what's your name?"

"My... name's... Henry. I... don't... go on... missions... because... I'm... too... weak, and I'm... bound... to... this... house."

"Too weak?" you asked, feeling a bit sorry for the guy. "Jeez, that must suck. Anyway, Henry, nice to meet you- ahhh!!" he started draining your mana on accident again and you pulled away.

"Sorry..."

"It's fine, Henry; I forgot about your little quirk," you reassured him with a wave of the hand.

"You're... really... pretty. Too... pretty... to... be... dating the... Captain," Henry remarked, making you snicker.

"Well, thank you, Henry! Yeah, you probably couldn't picture him and I together, if I'm being honest. I guess I just have a thing for oblivious brutes," you giggled, making him smile in return. "Anyway, I'd appreciate it if you didn't tell Captain Yami about my impromptu appearance; he doesn't want me hanging around you guys. Somethin' about 'putting me in danger'? As if I could be put in danger," you remarked rather confidently. "I'm not really the type to submit to his wishes all that easily, but he seemed pretty serious about keeping our relationship under wraps. If you don't mind me, I'll be on my merry way-"

"Wait...! The... others... are... supposed to be... back... soon! You'll... get... caught... if you... don't... hide!" Henry warned you suddenly.

"H-Huh? Really?!" you asked him, already freaking out.

As if on cue, you could hear several voices chattering from the other side of the door, and you looked around in panic, trying to find a hiding spot. Henry was blocking the hallway, and if you got too close to him, you'd probably faint on the spot. You tried to hide behind the bar, only for the door to literally break down as the rowdy Black Bulls made their way home. You knew they were loud, but you didn't know that they were the type to break down doors! At the sight of the bunch, you instinctively froze up in fear, akin to a deer in headlights. You ducked for the nearest couch, hoping that they'd choose to go in the opposite direction.

"Did you guys see the way I took that guy down?! It was awesome! I totally surpassed my limits out there!!" A rather enthusiastic, short boy said to the others. That must've been Asta: the anti-magic user.

"You were pretty good out there--not that I'm complimenting you or anything! I'm still royalty compared to you," a similarly short girl with silver hair said. Based on how she was jabbing the boy with her words, that was probably Noelle.

"Just you wait, Asta--I'm gonna get stronger than you!" another guy with a mohawk and glasses said. Magna, if you weren't mistaken.

"I'd like to see you try to get stronger than him! If you do, then I'll spar with you until I get even stronger!" a blonde boy with a psychopathic smile quipped. Luck.

"Just don't go around breaking shit, okay, you numbskulls?" your oh-so handsome boyfriend Yami Sukehiro sighed. "We don't have the money to keep repairing the damage you guys cause."

"I'm going to go worship my sister, Marie," a guy with an apparent sister complex said: Gauche, to be precise.

"What a weirdo," you said to yourself. A few of their heads turned in the direction of your voice, and you hid your entire body behind the couch.

"What was that?"

"Whatever it was, it was telling the truth."

"If you boys don't mind, I'm gonna go have a drink at the bar!" a female voice said, her words already slurred.

"Aren't you already drunk, Vanessa?" another guy asked the witch.

"What's one more drink, Finral? You should come join me!" she replied. You quickly realized you were in deep shit when you remembered that the couch you were hiding behind was right next to the bar.

Well, this is the end, you thought. There was no way you could hide from these guys now. Even if you tried to make a run for it, your boyfriend was right there, and he'd probably teach you a lesson!!

You braced yourself for when the witch, Vanessa, would see you... which was right at that moment. "Umm, guys? Why is there a stranger hiding behind our couch?"

Your eyes shot open in fear, and you looked up at the girl, your face red with embarrassment. "Vanessa, what are you talking about? Are you seriously seeing things?- Oh, hubba, hubba!" the guy named Finral said once he saw you. "If I knew that cute girls would be sneaking into our hideout, I'd leave the door unlocked more often!"

One by one, all the Black Bulls clamored around the couch, wondering who, exactly, the two were talking about. They were all in wonder until Yami came over. Oh, how you dreaded this from the moment you walked in...

"(Y/N)--what the hell are you doing in my base?!" said boyfriend asked, making you flinch with how loudly he asked that question.

"Heh... hi, Suke," you said quietly, only for the man to pick you up by the scruff of your collar and make you stand up.

"Wait, do you actually know that girl, Captain Yami?" Finral asked the man.

"He sure does..." you said meekly.

"Yeah, I do," he sighed. He pinched the bridge of his nose and shook his head. "Great, this is just what I needed: my Bulls slobbering all over my girlfriend..."

"Did you just say GIRLFRIEND?!" all of them asked in unison.

"I guess there's no time like the present," the man finally relented. Yami stopped pinching his nose and instead wrapped his arm around your waist, pulling you next to him. "Everyone, this is my girlfriend of four months."

"GIRLFRIEND OF FOUR MONTHS?!"

"I didn't even know a woman could stand to be in your presence, let alone for that amount of time!" Noelle exclaimed.

"So, you mean to tell me that you bagged a babe like her?! Captain, you need to give me your secrets!!!" Finral said, practically on the verge of losing it at this revelation.

"Don't call my girlfriend a babe, pipsqueak!"

"THIS IS SO COOL!! SO YOU MEAN TO TELL US THAT YOU WEREN'T LYING ABOUT HAVING A GIRLFRIEND ALL THIS TIME?!" Asta exclaimed, his voice drowning out everyone else's questions. "PLEASED TO MAKE YOUR ACQUAINTANCE, MA'AM--MY NAME IS ASTA AND I'M FROM HAGE VILLAGE, AND YOU ARE VERY BEAUTIFUL!!"

"Stop yelling in my girlfriend's ear, are you trying to make her go deaf?!" Yami asked Asta before grabbing his lips and shutting him up forcefully.

"Would you like to spar with me?!" Luck asked, way too enthusiastically for his own good.

"How about a drink?" Vanessa asked.

"A nice, warm meal would be a great welcome for her!" Charmy proposed.

"I don't care if you're Yami's girlfriend: if you touch my sister Marie, I'll kick your ass," Gauche threatened you directly.

"Creep..." Yami muttered. "For the love of the Wizard King, all of you get off of her and stop harassing her with all your questions!!" he barked, now pissed off at the situation.

"Yes, Captain Yami, sir," all of them said, piping down finally.

"This is exactly why I didn't introduce her to all of you; none of you know how to act properly!" Yami yelled again, this time gritting his teeth in anger. You could tell he was getting riled up, so you put your hand on his chest and silently told him to calm down. His frustrated expression settled down to a simple frown, and he offered you a tiny smile. "Sorry, princess."

"I've never seen someone rein him in so easily," one of the bulls remarked in wonder.

"It's clear that Yami appreciates this woman and that we should treat her with the same respect with which we'd treat one of our own," Gordon whispered. Everyone still side-eyed him for how quiet he was being.

Yami took a deep breath and faced his subordinates again. "Anyway, this is my girlfriend of 4 months: (Y/N) (L/N). I expect all of you to treat her with the same respect you'd treat me, just as Gordon said." Everyone nodded, and for once he didn't feel like bashing their heads in.

"Captain Yami, if you don't mind me asking: how come we haven't met her before if she's so important to you?" one of them asked this time.

"Because, if I introduced her to all of you, one of you would blabber your mouths, and then word would get out that I had a girlfriend. That would put her in some serious danger, considering how many foes we face and enemies we have," Yami explained--and quite calmly at that. "And I like keeping my personal life separate from my life as Captain. I don't want the two to intermingle, even if both lives are equally important to me."

"I guess that makes sense..."

You decided that it was your turn to speak: "truth be told, Suke's always been so overprotective of me. He thinks I'm some delicate little flower who needs to be guarded at all costs, even if I'm a stage 0 mage. It's honestly ironic, considering how his type is strong women," you added with a giggle.

"Well, I can't let you get hurt because of me, princess," he said to you quietly. "Even if you are strong, there's always the chance that someone might go looking for you."

"Look at him, he's so protective of her! It's honestly kinda cute," Vanessa remarked, taking another sip of her drink. Yami merely glared at her before looking at all of them again.

"How come she found out about the base if you're so protective of her? Isn't its location supposed to be private?"

This was a question meant for you, it seemed, even if it was directed at Yami. "Well... your horse and buggy's a little quick to give up information if you're pretty enough," you giggled mischievously, playing with your hair as if you were innocent.

"Finral!" Yami said through gritted teeth.

"I-I just figured she was curious!" the boy said, trembling at the possibility of being punished by their Captain.

"I guess I just have my ways," you giggled again. "I couldn't stay away from my boyfriend for too long, not when I have needs!" you shot a wink at Yami, and all he could do was blush in place.

"I don't even wanna know what those needs are..."

"Don't speak of such things around my sister, Marie," Gauche quipped, making you furrow your brow.

"She's not even here--that's a picture you're holding!!"

"She's here in spirit."

"Stop starting fights when we have guests," Noelle interjected, being the voice of reason for once. She then decided to ask you a question. "So, I simply have to know: what possessed you to date the man for four months? From what I've seen, he's not the most perceptive man out there!"

"Noelle, you can't just say that about our captain in front of his girlfriend!" Asta said to Noelle.

She huffed in response. "As if you'd be any better!!"

"Slander my name to her like that and I'll kill both of you," Yami threatened them, making them both jump.

"But I didn't even do anything wrong!" Asta whined defensively.

"To be honest," you started, making everyone look at you again. "I was the one who initially had a crush on him. I know he's not everyone's type, but he sure is mine. Anyway, it was kinda hard getting him to notice my feelings for him. In the end, all it took was for me to simply confess my feelings for him and hope that he'd reciprocate them! And Suke may not look like the boyfriend type, but he's actually the most caring and considerate man I've ever met; he just doesn't show any of you that side... At least, not as forwardly as he does to to me."

Noelle thought about your words, and she couldn't exactly do anything but take your word for it. "If you say so... But, I still just don't get it! You're so... pink, and he's so... whatever he is!"

"Well, everyone has their type," you shrugged.

"But, how do you deal with his bowel issues?"

"Noelle!"

You couldn't help but giggle at her question. "By buying extra toilet paper, of course!"

"(Y/N)..." Yami trailed off, embarrassed by the topic. "All of you: bowel issues are no laughing matter! I go through battles every single day in that room."

"Yeah, we know."

After the Black Bulls laughed at your little statements, he decided to move on to the next part: "alright, enough of a Q&A session. Since you came all this way, I'd imagine you'd be staying over for dinner?"

Your stomach growled in response to his question. "Oh, yes, please. I'm starving--this place is so far from the nearest town!"

"Not to worry, my fair lady!" Charmy suddenly said, standing up on the table. "Chef Charmy here will cook up an amazing feast to welcome you to our humble abode!"

You looked at Charmy and then at Yami. "Can the half-dwarf really do that--cook well?"

"Oh, you'd be surprised. Her food is rich with mana."

"Fear not," Charmy repeated, "for you deserve a proper Black Bull welcome!"

Just as Yami promised you: Charmy cooked up a feast fit for several kings from far away lands and then some. Her cotton magic combined with her food magic made for plenty of meals and dishes to go around, and, although simplistic in their nature, each meal left you wanting more.

You were, of course, seated beside your boyfriend Yami (you were almost touching him), and the pink-haired witch, Vanessa, decided to sit on the other side. "You simply must try this drink, (Y/N)!"

"Oh, I don't drink much, but thanks for the offer," you said. Your efforts were in vain, seeing as she had already filled your cup.

"Don't overdo it, princess. I don't want you stumbling about the place. Y'know, since you can't really handle your liquor," Yami warned you.

"I'll try not to, Suke."

After filling up your cup, Vanessa decided to ask you a boatload of questions, as did all the other Black Bulls. Asta asked you about your family back at home; Vanessa asked you about your relationship; Luck asked you about your fighting skills; Gordon asked if he could be your friend (and make a doll that resembled you?); etc. All the other Bulls asked you unique questions that were different according to their personalities and interests, and you were happily to answer all of them. It wasn't everyday that you got to talk about your wonderful relationship!

As the night settled down, though, a certain personal question was asked by a certain witch who was to your right. "So, (Y/N), I hope you don't mind me asking you this, but... are you happy in your relationship?" It was on brand for the witch, considering that she liked to talk about relationships and was also quite drunk.

"Vanessa, don't ask those kinds of questions," Yami warned the witch. "You've just met her-"

You answered it, though, regardless of how personal it was. Maybe it was the alcohol that opened you up more, but you gave her a smile and said: "more than you could imagine, Vanessa. Suke makes me happy in ways I cannot imagine. Brash as he might be, he still cares for me, and I can see that he also cares about the lot of you in his own special way. You're his family, after all; I'm just the lucky girl who he chose to open up to." It was more than you intended to say, but it got the point across pretty well. You took another sip of your drink, unaware of the way that they looked at you.

"Wow, that's... I sure am glad that you're happy!" Vanessa exclaimed, throwing her arm around your shoulder (and almost falling out of her chair).

"We all are, (Y/N)," Noelle also said with a slight smile.

"We might've just met you, but if you're a friend of Captain Yami's, then you're a friend of ours!" Asta exclaimed.

"I hope we can be great friends," Gordon whispered.

With each praise, each remark of approval, you couldn't help but smile at them. Truth be told, you'd been longing for a group of people who you could call home. Much like Noelle, you, too, had been shunned by your family for reasons you couldn't explain. Yami had been your lighthouse, your guiding rock all this time, but the idea that there was a whole other group out there who you could lean on for support kept your spirits up.

You might've just met them, but you already felt at home.

"Welcome to the fold, kid," Yami muttered into your ear before kissing the skin behind it.

Now that dinner was all cleaned up and over with, the two of you retired to Yami's bedroom. He shut the door behind him quietly, breathing a sigh of relief. "(Y/N), you have no idea the heart attack you almost gave me back there." Although he let the stoic mask drop and be replaced by the softness that he showed you, he still couldn't help but scold you. "Seriously--I wasn't prepared to introduce you to all of them."

"I didn't mean to surprise you like that, I just... look, I planned on sneaking in and going to your room and surprising you there. I wanted to see you--you've been so busy these past few weeks! I really didn't mean to meet them so early," you said, taking your earrings off and putting them on the nightstand.

Yami took the opportunity to sneak behind you and wrap his arms around your body. "I know I've been busy, princess; I would've snuck you in if you asked me to, though."

"I was impatient, Suke. You know how long those letters take to deliver; I wanted to see you today."

He didn't scold you; rather, he chuckled deeply and pressed his lips to the top of your head. "Well, aren't you an impatient princess?"

"You gave me that title, Sukehiro," you quipped, making him chuckle again.

"I guess I did."

After a few moments of silence, and after you'd taken your jewelry off, he took the opportunity to hug you tighter and let his lips travel down your neck. "Well, since you're here... I might as well get that loving in, hmm?"

"You might as well," you quipped. You stopped talking, instead letting him kiss your neck and your shoulder. You were so small in his arms--like a goddamn kitten! Even though you were strong, confident & fierce in your daily life, when you were with your beloved, you were like putty in his big hands, reduced to mush in a matter of moments.

"Good god, woman, I've missed you," he growled, letting his big hand trail up your shirt. "You have no idea how hard it was to resist the urge to just drop everything and come running to you."

"That's no way for a Magic Knight Captain to behave," you teased him, making him spank your ass out of annoyance.

"I know, princess." He went back to kissing your exposed shoulder and decided to take it a step further. "Turn around for me, baby," he rasped into your ear. You obliged happily, turning around to face your boyfriend. "That's more like it," he said, cracking a smile before attacking your lips. His chapped, rough lips kissed your much softer & sweeter ones, his tongue intermingling with yours and tasting the sweetness of your mouth. "Missed this... the way your lips taste," he whispered, angling your head so he could kiss you deeper.

"Missed yours, too," you murmured to which he raised an eyebrow.

"Didn't you say I smelled like cigarettes and beer?"

"That was before I made you quit all that shit. Now, shut up and kiss me," you said before diving in again.

"As you wish." He spun you guys around so that he was sitting on the bed and you were in between his legs. "What're you standing there for? Sit on my lap, sweetheart." You happily obliged and straddled his hips, letting the man pull you in for another deep, passionate kiss. His wandering hands trailed up and down your sides until he finally decided to peel off your shirt.

"Suke, it's cold," you whined.

"Then lemme heat you up," he rasped, continuing to let his hands run amok. Every time he got his hands on your soft, supple skin, he felt his heart skip a beat. You were just so goddamn perfect for him--you were like an angel, sent to keep him tamed. He trailed kisses down your neck and to your chest, kissing and biting at the soft fat of your breasts. "Mind if I take this thing off?" he asked, sticking a finger underneath the clasp of your bra.

"Only if you take this off," you quipped, peeling your boyfriend's tank top off, giving you access to those sweet muscles that you were so incredibly attracted to.

"Like what you see?" he rumbled with a cocky grin on his face.

"More than you could imagine," you giggled, pushing him back onto the bed and earning a spank from the brute's big hand.

"Come here and give your man some loving, hmm? He's missed having you in his bed."

You promptly requested a change of squad the next day. The Crimson Lion Kings would understand.

Bσɳυʂ ʂƈҽɳҽ: Nαƈԋƚ Fαυʂƚ! ⋆♱✮♱⋆

"So, this is the girlfriend I've been hearing so much about, Captain Yami?" the man, who was his vice-captain, asked him. It was a rare occurrence for him to leave the shadow realm and go back to HQ, but when he heard that his old friend of so many years had gotten himself a girlfriend, he couldn't resist the urge to meet you. His eyes flickered from Yami to you, and you felt like they were staring into your soul.

"Yeah, this is her: (Y/N), (L/N). Try not to scare her off and say anything bad about me, 'kay?" Yami asked of the young man.

Nacht offered you a smile and even outstretched his hand from his coat. "Pleased to meet you, my name is Nacht Faust. I was wondering when Captain Yami would find someone who'd put up with his antics," he said, surprisingly friendly for how reserved he seemed.

"Do I really have that kinda reputation?!"

"Yes, you do."

"Um... nice to meet you as well," you replied, unsure if you should be scared of him or be glad he was so friendly.

"Anyway, I should get going. I can't exactly stand to be around your boyfriend for so long," he said in that eerily calm voice before slinking back into a shadow. "It was nice to meet you again!"

"Yeah, it was..." you trailed off as the man disappeared into the shadowy side of that wall. "Is he always like that?"

"He's usually worse," Yami sighed. "Anyway, let's go back to bed. I'm tired."

"But it's 3 pm!" you protested. He merely scoffed and threw you over his shoulder. "Hey, put me down!!"

"Does it look like I care? I'll cuddle my girlfriend anytime of the day I want."

© ʙʀᴜɴᴇᴛᴛᴇ-ʙɪᴛᴄʜ77 on tumblr - get your own shit bitches | ca. 7/1/2024

[harmless-variety-of-garden-snake]

This is an alternate prompt for BuckTommy Fluffebruary Day Eighteen: Falling asleep/waking up together for the first time. I actually chose two first times, because I'm indecisive. The first one is just after 7x06, the second is just after whatever episode Buck and Tommy get married in. Also can be found on AO3 over here. Tagging @bucktommyfluffebruary

It’s been the longest night and morning in the world, and Tommy is grateful for Evan’s massive, perfect shower. He wants to live in it forever. As he scrubs another handful of body wash over his skin to get rid of the soot, he finds himself smiling at the memory of Evan kissing the life out of him in the waiting room. His fingers brush his lips, and it’s like he can still feel them tingling.

“Oh, my god, you’re such a girl,” he whispers, letting his hand drop as he rinses himself off.

It hadn’t just been that, though. He’d been given a plate of cake and been introduced to anyone he didn’t know, even Evan and Maddie’s bewildered parents. They hadn’t spoken much, but it’s because everyone seemed to suddenly need to ask Tommy a question. He knows that there’s something there, but he might find out what it is later. If he’s lucky.

Scrubbed clean and in borrowed sweats, he leaves the bathroom and finds that Evan is laying in bed with his phone in his hand while he taps at it. He gives Tommy a sleepy smile and Tommy feels his heart and lungs go molten and soft. One smile from Evan Buckley and he’s a human lava cake, it’s ridiculous.

“Sorry, I was trying to keep myself awake, but it’s been a long day,” Evan says, yawning.

“Yeah,” Tommy agrees, stretching out next to him. “Tell me about it.”

Evan puts his phone on his nightstand and wriggles down until he’s laying on his side and facing Tommy. “You first.”

“Nuh-uh. Mine was normal job stuff, you had to track down a groom with amnesia.”

The story is almost unbelievable, and Tommy watches every movement of Evan’s face as he talks, wanting to catalog every expression.

“—and then they got married in the hospital. And you came,” Evan finishes with a soft, shy smile.

“Of course I did,” Tommy says, covering Evan’s hand on the mattress. “I said I would.”

“You didn’t have to.”

“But I wanted to.”

Evan’s cheeks flush prettily. “Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

“How’d you get there?”

Tommy chuckles. “I got dropped off in the ambulance bay by a water truck.”

He starts to recount his own day—a massive fire, stubborn and seemingly endless—but finds himself blinking slower and slower as he talks. Before he knows it, he’s trailing off mid-sentence and catching himself as he nods off.

“Finish the story tomorrow,” Evan says, leaning in and kissing him. “Bedtime now.”

They get under the duvet, and Tommy gets pulled against Evan. It’s nice being able to drape himself over someone. Most of his exes have been smaller than him, because he’s a big guy and doesn’t meet too many other big guys who are interested.

“G’night,” Evan mumbles, kissing the top of his head.

“Good night,” Tommy whispers, closing his eyes.

He falls asleep quickly, sleeping heavily. He wakes up once because Evan is squirming and releases his hold on him. Instead of pulling away, Evan rolls on to his side and snuggles back against him with a sleepy mumble that Tommy can’t understand as he drifts off again.

When he wakes up, it’s because of the sunlight filtering through the window. It’s not direct, so it’s pleasant and golden rather than searing. It highlights the blonde in Evan’s curls, and Tommy wonders if he can convince him to grow them out. He wonders how his face looks, but he’s too warm and comfortable to move, so he contents himself with looking at the back of his head and stroking his thumb over Evan’s abdomen.

“Mm, hey,” Evan says, half-rolling toward him, already smiling. Tommy kisses his cheek, and he can feel it shift under his lips as Evan’s smile broadens. “Hungry?”

“Yeah, but I can wait,” Tommy says, keeping his voice soft. He doesn’t want to break the moment. He only gets to wake up with Evan for the first time once.

Evan rolls onto his back and stretches, his face scrunching adorably, and then he curls toward him. His hands tangle with Tommy’s, and his hair tickles Tommy’s forehead. His eyes are already closed again, and Tommy can see the crease in his cheek from his pillow. He’s the most beautiful person Tommy’s ever seen.

“Sure?” Evan mumbles.

“Yeah,” Tommy replies, kissing his slack lips. Evan presses back, but it’s delayed. His eyes don’t open when Tommy pulls back and settles his head back on his pillow.

Evan’s breathing evens out and deepens again, and Tommy watches him until he drifts off, too.

–

–

They’re tangled together under a duvet and sheet that are probably ruined, and Tommy lets out a soft noise when Evan kisses his chest.

“Not again,” he pleads, laughing.

“But it’s our first night,” Evan whines playfully, his face appearing over Tommy’s. “As husbands.”

“You’re right,” Tommy agrees, pulling him down into a kiss.

Except all they can do at this point is make out, because they’d left their reception and gone straight to their hotel and up to their suite about five hours ago. Tommy’s going to wake up as a husk. He drains half a water bottle in a few gulps, gives the rest to Evan, and then they cuddle back under the blankets.

“What was your favorite part about today?” Evan asks, holding his left hand up and wiggling his fingers so his wedding band catches the light. “Other than marrying me.”

“Mm, dancing with you,” Tommy replies, snuggling close and closing his eyes. “Seeing you in your suit for the first time. Bobby stopping the ceremony so the ducks could cross.”

Evan laughs and kisses his hair. “Yeah, that was cute.”

“What about you?”

“All of those things, too, and just looking around and realizing I was in a place full of people I love with the guy I love by my side for the rest of our lives.”

Tommy smiles. “That sounds pretty good, too.”

“Yeah, it’s kinda great.”

He falls asleep reluctantly, not wanting to miss any moment of their first night as husbands. But when he wakes up, he sees Evan stretched out next to him with a small puddle of drool under his mouth, and he realizes he gets to have his first morning with his husband.

He could grab his phone and take a picture, but he’s afraid of waking Evan up, even though he’ll do that himself shortly if his internal clock has anything to say about it. Instead, Tommy pulls the duvet up, burrowing under it and settling in for a bit of creepy staring.

When Evan does wake up, Tommy’s got the duvet up to his chin and is watching him with probably the dumbest lovestruck expression on his face. Evan blinks at him before his face splits in a sunny grin, and he pulls the duvet up, too, tugging Tommy to him and tangling their limbs together.

“We got married,” Evan whispers, sounding awed.

“Yeah,” Tommy whispers back, grinning.

They break into giggles and Tommy gives into the wave of cute aggression that hits, squeezing Evan as tight as he can for a moment. He lets up, but Evan returns the favor and bites his shoulder before pulling back, his eyes sparkling.

“We’re ma-a-arried,” he singsongs, drawing the word out like he’s taunting Tommy on a playground.

Tommy grabs him and rolls onto his back, crushing himself under the ridiculous weight of his ridiculous husband. His entire face gets showered with kisses, and he tries to catch Evan’s lips for a proper kiss. He’s too fast.

“Let me love on you,” he whines. He never whines. Bitches, yes. Complains, always. He doesn’t whine. But he’ll whine for his husband.

Evan stills and looks at him expectantly until Tommy cups his hand under Evan’s chin to draw him into a kiss. It’s wet and filthy and has them thrusting against each other almost immediately.

“Thought you were done,” Evan gasps out, hand digging under the pillows until he comes up with the bottle of lube.

“Nope,” Tommy says, biting his lip and holding Evan’s hips steady. All it takes is a quick swipe of lube, and then Evan is sinking down on him. “It’s a new day.”

Evan gives him a hazy grin and kisses him. “It’s our first day. As husbands. It’s our first morning sex—”

“As husbands,” Tommy finishes, grinning back.

They keep breaking into giggles. Tommy feels fizzy inside, like he’s had that magical soda from Willy Wonka and could float to the ceiling at any moment. He comes with a gasp into Evan’s neck and smiles against his mouth as he gets Evan off with his hand.

“We get to do this every morning—that our schedules line up—forever,” Evan says, collapsed on him and in seemingly no hurry to move. “I mean, we didn’t need to get married to do that, but—”

“But then I couldn’t get all my nametags redone to say ‘Buckley-Kinard.’”

Evan sighs and rubs his cheek against Tommy’s shoulder. “I like the sound of that. Do you think they'll fit on one line on our turnouts?”

“Yeah, they’ll be fine.” Tommy nuzzles his hair and smiles. “Baby?”

“Yes, pookie?”

“I have to pee so bad.”

Evan flops onto his back with a dramatic sigh. “The romance is dead.”

“Uh-huh,” Tommy agrees before heading into the bathroom. He starts the shower when he’s done and lets the water heat up while he brushes his teeth. Evan shuffles in shortly thereafter and also pees. “Wanna get back in bed after we shower?”

“Absolutely,” Evan says, using the second sink to wash his hands and brush his own teeth. “And then we can watch whatever’s on the TV until we fall back asleep.”

Tommy rinses his mouth and kisses Evan’s shoulder. “I’ll order room service.”

“Fuck Paris and Rome, this is the perfect honeymoon,” Evan says around a mouthful of toothpaste foam. “Oh, my god, do you think they have PBS?”

“Evan, everyone has PBS,” he points out, stepping into the shower.

They settle into bed with plates of pancakes balanced on their laps while they watch This American Land, and Tommy feels completely and utterly content.

“Love you,” Evan says, pressing a sticky syrup kiss to his shoulder.

“Love you,” Tommy replies, turning his head to kiss his nose. When it scrunches up, he gets that fizzy feeling again, and he hopes it never goes away.

[little-riddles]

hope | one

pairing: sirius black x female!potter!reader word count: 3.8k warnings: mentions of illness, references of abuse

past | masterlist | next

the night was painted with shadows, the moon casting a silvery glow over the walls of the potter house. a gentle breeze whispered through the window, carrying with it the sounds of chatter in the streets below. curled up in the bay window sat a y/h/c girl with forest-green eyes who stared longingly at the four boys playing in the large expanse of grass behind their house. she longed to be allowed to play with the boys, to know the joy of having friends that weren't her brother or their pet cat.

"y/n potter, you know you can't have the windows open!" euphemia potter shouted as she rushed to shut the open window and wrap yet another blanket around the frail girl.

"mama, i'm fine." y/n struggled out, her voice only allowing her to speak at a mere whisper.

"you're freezing, y/n." euphemia pulled her daughter into her arms, feeling the cold radiating through the many layers of blankets covering her. "you're never going to get better if you keep trying to make yourself more sick."

"but i just wanna go outside and play with the boys for a bit. five minutes, that's all i want." y/n tried to beg her mother, already feeling exhausted from just the movement of walking back to sit on her bed.

"you can play with the boys if they come back inside before they leave. i can't have you outside in that cold. i'm sorry, darling." euphemia pressed a kiss to her daughter's temple, before walking back out of the room and shutting the door behind her.

y/n sighed falling back into her duvet. she couldn't understand why no one would allow her to have fun with her brother's friends as well. why she's locked away in her room whenever they come over during the winter holiday? her mother said it was for her own good and health, but she just felt like a freak in her mother's eyes. like she was something her parents were ashamed of.

for as long as she could remember, y/n potter had been sick. she has spent longer in st. mungo's than she has in her own home. her parents had spent years trying to find answers to her mysterious illness, going as far as travelling over to the americas to visit a well-known healer who was said to have the answers to her illness. but as with all of their other endeavors, they came up empty-handed and with even more questions than answers.

her health had become so deteriorated in the past year that she had to forgo attending hogwarts at the same time as her twin brother, james. her parents had hired a local wizard tutor to home-school her until she would be able to attend hogwarts herself, something that seemed less and less likely the further into winter y/n got.

"y/n! the boys are going in five minutes if you wanna come and meet them!" james' voice carried from the front room into her bedroom, alerting her to the appearance of the boys from the garden.

y/n could hear her mother berating her brother for shouting in the house and to go and help his sister down from her room if she was going to meet his friends. she pulled herself out of the bed, making her way over the door with the blankets her mother had wrapped around her cradling her.

"y/n/n, come on." james burst through her door, grabbing her thin wrist in his arms and already making his way down the hallway. "you're going to love them."

"jamie, jamie slow down. i can't walk that fast." y/n rasped out, her brother coming to a complete halt as he realised, in his excitement, that he'd completely forgotten how ill his sister had gotten in the short four months he was away.

"oh, y/n/n. i'm so sorry. i was just so excited for you to meet them that i completely forgot." james pulled his sister in for a hug, continuing their walk down the stairs but at a much-reduced speed. "i've told them so much about you, you have nothing to worry about."

"exactly how much?" y/n looked at her brother in suspicion, knowing exactly what stories he would love to share with his friends.

"just the good things. mostly." james winked, pushing the door to the living room open to reveal their parents talking to the three small boys. "guys, this is my sister, y/n."

"it's nice to meet you." y/n tried to speak at her top volume, already feeling her throat drying up and in pain from the few words spoken.

"i'm remus lupin, nice to meet you." the sandy-haired boy with scars across his arms and legs smiled as he looked anywhere but her eyes.

"nice to meet you, remus." y/n smiled back, sitting down between her parents who both wrapped yet another blanket that was thrown over the back of the sofa.

"i'm p-peter pett-tigrew." the smallest of the three bowed his head slightly as he greeted the girl.

"and i'm sirius black." the black-haired boy sitting on the armrest of the sofa said with a charming smirk. "what's with all the blankets?"

"sirius!" remus smacked the boy around the head. "you can't just ask questions like that."

"it's okay, remus." y/n smiled, reassuring the boys. "i'm sick. have been for as long as i can remember and the cold makes me much worse than i already am. we've tried everything but have no answers to how I can get better."

"i'm sorry." sirius sounded genuinely sincere as he bowed his head slightly.

"have you tried muggle doctors?" remus asked in a light voice, earning silence as the purebloods of the room looked at him puzzled.

"why in merlin's name would we go to muggles for help?" fleamont asked in disbelief.

"it sounds like a muggle disease that my grandmother had before she died." remus fiddles with his hands. "they can give y/n a medicine that will help heal her back up to full health."

"how would we be able to get this medicine?" euphemia placed a calming hand on her husband's arm.

"my mum can help you get in contact with a doctor who can help heal y/n." remus smiled, looking down at the watch as he noticed it was past his curfew already.

"oh, would you look at the time."fleamont announced as he stood to face the grandfather clock. "well, best be off boys. don't want to be on the end of another howler from your mothers."

the boys smirked to themselves, remembering the howler that was opened during dinner one evening after they were caught messing with the nifflers in the garden. one of them had to be magically lifted out of the tree that the boys had scared it into, a feat that y/n had watched sadly from the window, having forged a strong bond with the runt of the niffler's litter over her time kept at home.

"thank you for having us, mrs potter, mr potter." remus bowed his head slightly as he pulled his jacket out from behind the sofa. "i hope we will be able to come back during the spring break as well?"

"of course, my dears. you're welcome here anytime. even you, sirius." mr Potter smiled knowingly at the raven-haired boy, having attended hogwarts at the same time as some of his family and knowing the legacy his family had left behind for him.

"thank you, sir." sirius seemed shy for the first time in the short while that y/n had met him, clearly not used to such generosity. his reaction made the girl wonder what terrible upbringing could've caused such reactions to such a small gesture.

y/n's eyes wandered to the small, meek boy who was still trapped within the many cushions of the red sofa. his hands were held close to his chest as though he was scared to touch anything around him. His thin, mousy hair clung to his scalp, and his anxious, darting eyes seemed to constantly search for an escape route.  his lips were turned down in a deep frown, spreading all the way up to his brows, creating a crease down the centre of his forehead.

y/n couldn't help but feel the unease that seemed to radiate from him, as an aura of vulnerability marked him apart from the other boys, who each exuded a sort of confidence in the few interactions she had observed from them.

"are you okay, peter?" y/n asked in a hushed tone, bringing the movement of the other boys to a halt.

"you alright, pete?" james approached his friend, worried by the scared look that grew rapidly on his friend's face as he grew nearer.

"i may have broken a mug." peter mumbled, pulling the shards from the pocket of his coat he had yet to take off since he arrived many hours before.

"oh, that's fine, my dear. we have tons of them." euphemia waved her hands, snapping her fingers and calling for one of the house elves. "ribly! come here this instant!"

y/n had always hated how her parents treated the house elves that served them, often overhearing and occasionally witnessing the 'punishments' they would endure for the smallest of mistakes.

ribly appeared in the living room with a crack, already hurrying over to peter with a broom to collect any shards that had escaped his grasp.

"ribly will clean it up, mr peter. ribly will fix it, ms potter." the small house-elf was quick to sweep up the few remains on the ground, only stumbling a few times in her haste, before disapparating out of the room as quickly as she had entered it.

"don't mind her. she likes to be efficient." mr potter chuckled to himself, brushing off the looks each of the children were giving him and his wife. "well, why don't you all go through the fireplace? will be much easier than taking the muggle route home. especially for you, sirius."

y/n watched as sirius gulped at the thought of home, cementing in her mind that he didn't have a happy home outside of Hogwarts.

"again, thank you for having us. it was nice to meet you, y/n. i do hope to see you again." remus smiled timidly once more, hugging james briefly before he walked into the fireplace and disappeared in a green flame with a mumble of his home.

"t-thank you." peter scrambled to follow him, almost forgetting to grab a handful of floo powder before he too disappeared into the ashes.

a beat passed before y/n returned her eyes to an even more anxious and fidgeting sirius.

"mate, we'll see each other in a few weeks. you can't miss me that much whilst you're gone." james patted his best friend on the shoulder, not quite getting the truth behind his apprehension.

"yeah." sirius chuckled dryly to himself. "yeah. i'll see you after christmas, james."

sirius pulled the bespectacled boy into a tight hug, before glancing over at the small girl still squashed against her mother on the sofa. her green eyes held a knowing twinkle in them that hadn't been there before, a sympathetic smile gracing her lips.

"it was nice to meet you, y/n/n." sirius winked, stealing the nickname he had previously heard james calling her. "and thank you, mrs potter again for having us. oh. and do give my thanks to ribly for the tea, i'm sure she deserves it."

euphemia opened and closed her mouth in disbelief, not quite knowing how to respond to the cheek of the boy. y/n stiffled a giggle as she remembered hearing her mother glowing in the praise from the boys over how quickly she had put together tea and biscuits for them when they came inside the house.

"i'll be sure to write to you all about our adventures at hogwarts, y/n/n. Now I know you're real and not this git's imaginary best friend." sirius winked once last time before disappearing into a cloud of green.

silence fell over the potters as the twins tried not to laugh at their mother's shocked expression and how their father was frozen in his spot staring into the fireplace.

"well, i'm not sure who raised that boy but they certainly need a clip round the ear for the cheek he was giving me." euphemia scoffed, brushing off her skirt as she stood to exit the room.

"well, i for one, love them all." y/n grinned, already excited at the prospect of possibly being healed of her illness. "can we do what remus said, father? can we go see the muggle healer?"

fleamont only scoffed, walking out into the gardens with a slam of the door behind him.

"don't worry. i'll convince him. or more likely, i'll annoy him into agreeing." james winked at his sister, moving to help her back up the stairs and into her bedroom.

"and if that doesn't work?" y/n coughed as she finished her sentence.

"oh, it'll work." he only smirked, closing the door behind him after he settled her into the plush duvet and multitude of pillows.

—————

y/n bounced on her toes as she stretched over the crowds to catch a glimpse of the train pulling into the platform. her parents and her brother's friend's parents surrounded her in much less excited states, mrs lupin and ms pettigrew having a conversation about the odd letter they'd received from professor mcgonagall about an incident involving a toilet seat being stolen from one of the bathrooms.

"y/n, settle down. You're going to waste all your energy before the train even arrives." fleamont placed his hands firmly on his daughter's shoulders, stopping her in her place.

"but, father. jamie's nearly here, he doesn't even know i'm better yet. i just can't wait for him to see me." y/n grinned up at her father, their identical eyes staring into one another.

"and you'll be able to see him when he arrives, so long as you calm down." fleamont pressed harder on her shoulder, actually pushing her shoulders further into her back.

"yes, dad." y/n stopped her peering, instead staring behind her shoulder at the small crowd of blondes that had entered through the barrier only moments before.

the group of witches and wizards bared a likeness to one another besides their matching light-coloured hair, two of the girls having matching smirks as they ran ahead of their parents. the mother of the group struggled to catch up with the girls, giving up as she lost them to the masses of parents and children. the pair stumbled out from the crowd beside the potters, too peering over the crowds to catch a glimpse of the train approaching. they soon gave up as they realised they wouldn't be able to see over the masses of parents already pushing to reach the doors of the carriages. as they turned back to find their parents, the taller of the two locked eyes with y/n with a grin.

"it's no use trying. i've already been elbowed by more vicious mothers than i can count." y/n rubbed her arms where the feeling of their bony elbows remained.

"are you waiting for your brother or sister too?" the shorter twin grinned, happy to have found someone who looked to be their age.

"my twin brother." y/n grinned.

"twin?" the taller twin shared a glance with her sister. "why aren't you there with him?"

"i was ill." y/n could already see the pity filling their once cheerful faces. "b-but i'll be starting in september. dumbledore sent me the letter just this morning."

"so will we!" the twins said in a creepily matching tone.

"holly! heather!" a stern voice broke their conversation. "you can't just run off like that."

"oh, it's okay. they've just been here with us, avery. no need to fret." y/n's mother turned to the commotion, clearly recognising the man from her time at hogwarts.

"euphemia." the blonde man nodded his head once, before ushering the girls back to where their mother was sternly watching from afar. "come now, girls. don't want to disturb the potters after all."

"bye!" the shorter twin shouted.

"see you in september!" the other shouted after her before the trio were lost in the crowds.

"mum, who was that?" y/n turned to her mother, who was still staring off with a far-off look in her eyes.

"charlus avery. he was in my year at hogwarts." her mother brushed off the questions that were lingering on the tip of her daughter's tongue. "now, why don't we go find the boys?"

"but-" she couldn't finish her sentence before she was distracted by the familiar brunette head of her brother exiting the train carriage.

before her mother could stop her, y/n was off. she pushed past the vicious mothers from before, who glowered in her path and even pushed a few older hogwarts students out of the way all in her attempt to reach her twin. but her mind was flooded with guilt and gratitude towards the sandy-haired boy who was being rough-housed off of the train by sirius.

"remus!" y/n ran towards the boy as he stepped off of the hogwarts express, wrangling him into a  hug and completely ignoring her brother and his other friends.

"wow. no hello, not even a smile. some sister you are." james grumbled, not looking at the girl as he helped pettigrew carry the large cage of his cat off of the train.

y/n glared at her brother over remus' shoulder, not even giving him a taunt back, before she pulled back and grasped the boy's shoulders tightly. "thank you so much. i don't know what i would've done without you."

"i-i'm sorry?" remus stood in shock, not quite believing the once-sick girl in front of him was almost glowing as she bounced in place.

"we visited the muggle doctor like you suggested and they were able to heal me." y/n giggled, finally seeing her brother standing beside the sandy-haired boy. "jamie!"

"y/n/n? oh my god. you look so healthy." james squeezed his sister tight to his chest, burying his head in her shoulder to hide the tears pouring out of his eyes.

"boys! hurry and help mr potter with the bags!" mrs lupin shouted, waving them over to where mr potter was lugging the bags over to a large pile by their parents.

"sorry, dad!" james ran over to help his dad carry the remaining bags over to the group.

"so, no more blanket forts then?" a cockier than usual voice approached behind y/n.

"well, i can't spend my days at hogwarts in a bundle of blankets now can I?" y/n grinned as both sirius and peter stumbled behind her, trying to catch up with the newly speedy girl.

"y-you're coming to h-hogwarts?" peter stuttered out.

"yep. got my letter this morning. dumbledore must have been eager." y/n skipped her way back to her parents, curling into her mother's side who stared down at her with a fondness in her eyes that james had only seen a few times.

"it's so odd seeing her that.. energetic." james tilted his head to the side, not quite believing that it was indeed his little sister beaming up at their mother at the train platform.

"well, i for one, love it." sirius grinned, chasing after the girl to meet up with his friend's parents.

"remus, has she always had that small furry thing on her shoulder or have i gone insane?" peter leant up to the taller boy's ear, pointing at the creature that seemed to burrowing itself into her neck.

remus could only shake his head before he too was trailing after the girl, staring at the creature that was pulling the golden necklace from y/n's neck.

"y/n!" remus raced forward, pointing at the now-identified niffler. "you've got a niffler! it's stealing your necklace!"

y/n barely blinked as she stared down at the grey-bodied creature staring up at her as if it had been caught red-handed in a robbery.

"oh, jamie. what are you doing here?" y/n merely pulled the niffler out of her hair and tucked him into the inside pocket of her coat.

"i'm coming back from hogwarts?" james asked in question as he turned away from their father.

"oh, not you jamie. jamie junior." y/n proudly presented the niffler to her brother as he was stashing their mother's wedding ring into his pouch.

"that little rat. i knew i didn't lose my ring." euphemia glared at her sheepish husband who had blamed her for the act that morning.

"sorry, mum. jamie just likes shiny things, and your ring is the shiniest thing in the house besides my necklace."y/n pouted, upset that her newfound friend had been the cause of the argument between her parents that morning.

"it's okay, dear. i'll just have to charm it so that it doesn't get stolen again." she said in a manner that she usually used to scold her children.

"but why jamie?" james was still confused, staring into the black eyes of the creature that had stolen his namesake.

"well, uh." y/n was embarrassed to reveal the truth of jamie's name in front of her brother's friends. "i didn't have you at home anymore, so i um. i have my own jamie to replace you when you're not there."

james' confusion quickly turned to smugness at his sister's revelation.

"you missed me!" james pulled his sister into a headlock. "you missed me and couldn't wait for me to get back."

"oh, shut up." y/n blushed as she pushed her brother's arms away from her.

"ain't got to miss him for too long, love." sirius gestured, nudging the girl.

"what does he mean, y/n/n?" james asked, glossing over the nickname entirely.

"dumbledore sent me my letter this morning. i start at hogwarts in september." y/n glowed as she thought of finally being able to attend classes with other kids her age instead of by herself with mrs. flemming and mr. nilsen.

james couldn't fight the grin that broke out across his face as he leapt to pull his sister into a tight embrace. y/n's slight frame was swallowed by james's. she buried her face in his shoulder, inhaling the familiar scent of their father's aftershave he had stolen.

james' gentle laughter filled the quietness as he squeezed her tightly. "i missed you so much, y/n/n," he whispered in her ear.

tears welled up in y/n's eyes as she replied, her voice muffled against his shoulder, "i missed you too, jamie."

they held onto each other for what felt like an eternity, the bond between siblings stronger than ever.

"are you two done?" peter squeaked from behind them. "jamie junior has stolen all of my mum's jewellery and i think she's finally noticed."

"oh, merlin. i love your niffler, y/n/n." sirius laughed, watching as the pureblood woman began to flit about the station chasing after the tiny creature as it raced away towards the freedom that was the barrier to the station.

"yeah, he's definitely gonna be a handful at hogwarts." y/n grinned, unbeknownst to the chaos such a decision was going to cause her.

next

[mommyownsmee]

This is the DOM/ME VERSION ~3.885 words

You can find the SUBMISSIVE VERSION here ~6.393 words

[INSPIRATION] ♡

I have you exactly where I want you, my sweet girl. You’ve been running on empty all week, haven’t you? Always so diligent, always so busy. I see it in the tightness of your shoulders, the way your brows furrow even in your sleep, the weight you carry in your steps. But today, none of that matters. Today, you’re mine to guide, mine to care for. I’ll take every busy thought and smooth it away until there’s nothing left but that sweet, quiet surrender I love so much.

When you wake up, the room is bathed in a soft, golden glow. The curtains are slightly parted, letting in just enough morning sunlight to warm the space without being too harsh. Our room is a sanctuary—a cocoon of comfort and intimacy. The bed we share is adorned with plush, cream-colored sheets and an oversized duvet that always seems to wrap us in its embrace.

A bookshelf near the window is crammed full of books—yours, mine, and the ones we’ve read together on rainy afternoons. A small jewelry tray on the dresser holds a necklace you never take off unless I do it for you.

On the walls hang small, meaningful mementos of us: a framed photo from our first trip together, a pressed wildflower you gave me one spring, and a hand-painted canvas with soft, abstract swirls you created one quiet afternoon.

Your favorite blanket is draped over the back of the armchair in the corner, where you love to curl up and lose yourself in a book, though today, you won’t need it. Today, there’s no space for you to get lost in anything but me.

I’m already awake, lying beside you, propped on one elbow as I watch you stir. You look so soft like this, your hair mussed, your lips slightly parted, cuddling your teddybear, as you begin to wake. I lean in, brushing a kiss against your temple. "Good morning, my love," I whisper, my voice low and soothing. You murmur something incoherent, shifting closer to me, instinctively seeking the comfort of my presence. "Time to get up, baby. I’ve got everything ready for you."

Your sleepy eyes blink open, and you notice the clothes I’ve laid out for you at the foot of the bed. They’re simple, soft, and cozy—your favorite oversized sweater, a pair of leggings, and warm socks to keep the chill of the wooden floors at bay. Everything has been chosen with you in mind, from the muted colors that suit your skin tone to the way the fabric feels against you. No decisions for you to make. I’ve already thought of everything.

When you come to the kitchen, the air is filled with the rich aroma of tea and food I have ready for us. The warmth of the morning sun is filtering through the tall windows. I’m already seated, sipping my tea, waiting for you. When you hesitate in the doorway, I glance up with a smile. "Come here," I say softly.

You sit, your eyes flitting over the table before meeting mine. You start to open your mouth, but I stop you with a gentle shake of my head. "Set the table for me, baby. No questions. Just do as I say." My tone is warm, guiding, and I watch as you move to obey. Your hands work with practiced ease, setting the plates and utensils just so, and I can’t help but admire how beautiful you look, even in such a simple task. "Good girl," I say, and the faint blush that colors your cheeks makes me smile.

You’re always so eager to please, my good girl.

After breakfast, we settle in the living room. It’s cozy and inviting, with a plush gray sofa piled high with soft pillows. A blanket is draped over the back of it, one we always reach for on mornings like this. The room smells faintly of lavender from the diffuser on the shelf, and the soft hum of a record player fills the space with calming music. I pull you into my lap, wrapping the blanket around us both as I pick your favorite movie. It’s one you’ve watched a hundred times, one that requires no effort to follow, perfect for letting your mind drift.

As the movie plays, my fingers find their way to your hair, combing through it in slow, rhythmic motions. I press soft kisses to the top of your head, the curve of your temple, the delicate slope of your neck. You melt into me, your breathing slowing, your hands clutching at the fabric of my shirt. Every so often, I catch your gaze flickering to my lips, my collarbone, the curve of my chest. You don’t speak, but you don’t have to. I can feel the way you’re sinking, deeper and deeper into the space I’ve created for you.

"Good girl," I murmur, my voice barely above a whisper. "You’re doing so well for me. Just let go." And you do, your body going soft and pliant against mine, your eyes glassy with that quiet, blissful surrender I adore.

Later, in the bathroom, the soft glow of candlelight bounces off the tiled walls. The tub is filled with warm water, and the scent of vanilla and sandalwood wafts through the air. I guide you into the bath, my hands steady on your waist. The room is warm, intimate, every detail carefully curated to soothe you. My hands follow the water, washing you with slow, deliberate care. I linger just long enough on the soft curves of your body to remind you that you’re mine, and the faint blush that colors your cheeks tells me you understand.

When I murmur, "Do you want Mommy to dry you off?" your reaction is immediate—a sharp intake of breath, your lips parting in surprise. But you nod, your blush deepening, and I smile. "You know how to make mommy happy, don’t you, baby?," I whisper, wrapping you in a towel and pulling you close. You lean into me, your body completely relaxed, your mind quiet.

As the evening stretches on, I ask you to follow me to the bedroom, the soft glow of the bedside lamp casting a golden hue over the space. You’re sitting on the edge of the bed, your body still wrapped in the towel I dried you with. The satin nightgown I laid out for you rests beside you, and I can see the faint hesitation in your eyes as you glance between it and me. You’re waiting for me, your mind already so far gone that even the thought of dressing yourself feels like too much. I love that about you—the way you look to me, the way you trust me to guide you, to take care of you.

"Stand up, baby," I say softly, my voice low and soothing. You obey without question, rising to your feet with a quiet grace that makes my chest ache. I pick up the nightgown, letting the silky fabric glide through my fingers before slipping it over your head. My hands move slowly, smoothing the material over your shoulders, your sides, letting my fingers linger just a moment longer than necessary. You shiver under my touch, your blush deepening as you glance up at me. "Perfect," I murmur, tilting your chin up so I can press a kiss to your lips. "You’re absolutely perfect."

The bedroom feels warm and cloaked in intimacy. The soft glow of the bedside lamp pools across the walls, illuminating the delicate details of the room and the air carries a subtle mix of lavender and sandalwood, remnants of the bath we shared earlier, mingled with the unmistakable scent of you—familiar, grounding me in the moment.

I guide you onto the bed—And as you’re lying on your back, your satin nightgown clinging to your body in a way that makes it impossible for my eyes not to roam over you, I cannot do anything else than worship you. Your nightgown looks perfect on you—It’s a deep, emerald green, the kind of color that makes your skin glow and reminds me of how precious you are. The thin straps fall slightly off your shoulders, exposing the soft curves I’ve kissed a thousand times but never tire of exploring. Your thighs are bare, and the way the hem of your nightgown brushes just above them feels almost sinful. You look utterly divine, flushed and pliant beneath me, your eyes hazy with trust and submission.

I’m still partially dressed, though my shirt is unbuttoned, hanging loosely over my shoulders, exposing my chest, where your gaze keeps flickering.

You lie there watching me, your chest rising and falling in shallow breaths, your hands clutching at the duvet as though it’s the only thing keeping you tethered. I lean down over you, pressing my palms to either side of your head, caging you beneath me. My lips brush against your ear as I whisper, "Look at me, baby," my voice soft but firm. You tilt your head up, your eyes meeting mine, and I can see it—the way your gaze is hazy with subspace, the way your lips part as though to speak but no words come. You’re completely mine, completely in my hands, and it’s the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen.

"Look at you," I whisper, brushing my thumb across your bottom lip. "You’re so far gone, aren’t you, my sweet girl? So soft, so obedient, just the way I like you." You nod faintly, a tiny, trembling motion that makes my chest ache with how much I love you, how deeply I crave you. "My perfect plaything," I murmur, leaning down, capturing your lips in a kiss that’s soft at first but grows deeper, more possessive. Your body responds instinctively, your hands clutching at my shirt, your breath hitching as I press closer. My hand trails down your side, my touch light and teasing, and you let out the softest whimper—a sound that goes straight to my chest, making my heart ache with how much I love you.

„You don’t have to think about anything," I whisper against your lips, my hand continuing its slow descent. "You don’t have to do anything. Just let me take care of you." You nod, a tiny, trembling motion that only makes me want you more. "That‘s good," I murmur, and the way your body shivers under my touch tells me all I need to know for now.

My hand trails down your side, fingers skimming the curve of your waist, the dip of your hip, teasing the sensitive skin there. Your body trembles under my touch, and you let out the softest whimper—a sound so quiet, so sweet, it makes my breath catch. "I‘m so proud of you," I murmur, pressing a kiss to the corner of your mouth, then to the hollow of your throat. "Always so good for me. Always so ready to give me everything."

I shift slightly, my body pressing against yours, grounding you in the weight of me. My hand moves lower, slipping beneath the hem of your satin nightgown, and you gasp softly, your hands gripping the sheets as though trying to anchor yourself. But you don’t stop me. You’d never stop me. You trust me too much for that. And I can feel it in the way your body responds, in the way you arch into my touch, your breath coming in shallow, trembling gasps.

"You’re so soft like this," I whisper, my lips brushing against your ear, my voice laced with quiet authority. "So pliable, so obedient. I could do anything I want to you, and you’d let me, wouldn’t you, baby?" You nod again, your blush deepening, and I smile against your skin.

Your breath hitches as I slip my fingers out of the hem, your body arching slightly, pressing against me as though trying to get closer. Instead, my fingers trail down your arm, light and teasing, before slipping under the thin strap of your nightgown. I pull it down slowly, exposing one of your shoulders, then the other, my lips trailing behind my touch. "You look so beautiful in this," I murmur, my voice low and full of quiet command. "But I think I’d like you even better out of it."

I sit back on my knees, watching as I slide the satin down your body, exposing inch after inch of soft, warm skin. The sight of you like this—bare and vulnerable, flushed and waiting—makes my chest tighten with love and desire. You’re looking up at me with wide eyes, your lips parted as though to speak, but no words come. You don’t need to say anything. I can see everything I need to know in the way your body trembles, the way your thighs press together as though seeking some kind of relief.

"You don’t have to hide from me," I say softly, sliding my hands down your sides, my fingers grazing the sensitive spots that make you shiver. "You don’t have to think. Just let me take care of you."

I lean down again, pressing my lips to yours in a kiss that’s soft at first, teasing and exploratory, but quickly deepens. My tongue sweeps against yours, claiming you, and you moan softly into my mouth, your hands reaching up to clutch at my shirt. I take my time with you, savoring the way you respond to every touch, every kiss, as though your body is made for me.

When I move lower, trailing kisses down your neck, your collarbone, your chest, I feel the way your breathing quickens, the way your body arches into my touch. My hands roam over you, deliberate and possessive, tracing the curve of your waist, the softness of your thighs. You whimper softly as I spread your legs, your blush deepening as I settle between them.

"You’ve been so perfect for me today," I murmur, kissing the inside of your thigh. "Always so eager to please. Do you know how much I love you like this?"

You nod, your voice barely above a whisper as you manage to say, "Yes, mommy." The words make my heart race, a thrill of power and love coursing through me. "Good girl," I reply, my voice low and full of promise. "I’m going to take care of you tonight. You don’t have to do anything but be mine."

I lean down over you, brushing my lips against yours in a soft, lingering kiss, my hand trailing over your cheek. "Stay here," I murmur, my voice low and commanding. "Don’t move. Keep those pretty legs right where they are for me, baby."

You nod, a small, shaky movement, your hands still clutching at the duvet. I press one last kiss to your temple before I rise from the bed, watching as your eyes follow me, wide and adoring. The shift in power between us is palpable—the way I stand above you, gazing down at you with quiet authority, while you lie there, so small and soft and utterly mine.

I move to the corner of the room where the dresser is, opening the drawer with deliberate slowness. The room is silent except for the faint sound of fabric shifting as I pull out the harness and the strap, the subtle creak of leather as I fasten the buckles. I feel your eyes on me the entire time, your gaze fixed on my hands as they work, the way they slide over the leather with practiced ease. I know you’re watching me, your breathing growing heavier, your blush deepening as the reality of what’s about to happen sinks in.

The harness is dark leather, worn in all the right places, fitted perfectly to my body. It wraps snugly around my waist and thighs, framing my hips in a way that feels powerful and deliberate. The strap itself is sleek and smooth, the perfect size for you—not too intimidating, but enough to remind you of exactly who’s in control. I adjust the buckles, making sure everything is just right, before turning back to you.

When I meet your gaze, you’re staring at me with a look that sends a thrill through me—a mixture of awe, desire, and quiet surrender. Your cheeks are flushed, your chest rising and falling in shallow breaths, and your thighs shift slightly, as though you’re trying to press them together. I smirk, crossing the room back to you with slow, measured steps, letting you take in the sight of me like this, the deliberate power in the way I move, the way I carry myself.

I stand at the edge of the bed, looking down at you, and the way you tremble under my gaze makes my heart race. "I think you’ve earned a reward, don’t you?," I say softly, my voice low and steady, laced with quiet authority.

You nod quickly, your eyes flickering between my face and the strap, your blush deepening.

"You can‘t speak, baby?," I murmur, leaning down to trail my fingers along the curve of your thigh, watching the way your body shivers under my touch. "Do you want this? Do you want me to fill you, to remind you who you belong to?"

"Y-Yes," you say, your voice trembling, and I smile, my heart swelling at how deeply you’ve surrendered to me. I climb onto the bed, settling between your legs, the harness pressing against your skin as I lower myself over you. My hands frame your face, tilting your chin up so our eyes meet, and I lean down to press a kiss to your lips, slow and possessive, claiming you all over again.

"You’re mine," I murmur against your lips, my voice a quiet promise. "Every inch of you belongs to me." You nod, a soft, trembling motion, and I smile, pressing my lips to your forehead. "Good girl. Now, let me take care of you."

I guide myself against you, the strap sliding along your wetness, teasing you, coaxing soft, desperate sounds from your lips. Your hands clutch at the sheets, your body trembling beneath me, and I can’t help but smile. "So responsive," I murmur, my hand cupping your cheek as I meet your gaze. "You’re perfect like this, baby. Completely mine."

When I finally push into you, it’s slow, deliberate, every inch a reminder that you’re mine, that your body belongs to me. You gasp softly, your back arching, and I still for a moment, letting you adjust, my hands steady on your hips. "You’re doing so well," I whisper, pressing a kiss to your temple. "You take me so perfectly, my love."

I move with a rhythm that’s slow at first, deliberate and teasing, drawing out every little sound you make, every gasp and whimper. My hands grip your thighs, keeping you open for me, and I watch the way your body responds, the way your chest rises and falls, the way your lips part with soft, breathless moans. "That’s it," I murmur, my voice low and steady. "Let go for me, baby. Let me take you where you need to go."

As the pace quickens, the room fills with the sound of our bodies moving together, your soft moans blending with my whispered praise. I lean down, capturing your lips in a kiss that’s possessive and deep, one hand tangling in your hair while the other keeps you steady beneath me. "You’re so good for me," I whisper against your lips. "So perfect. My good girl."

Your moans grow louder, more urgent, filling the room like music I never tire of hearing. My hands slide up your body, my fingers grazing the curve of your waist, the swell of your chest, before resting firmly on your hips. I hold you steady, keeping you exactly where I want you, as I drive into you with purpose, each thrust deliberate and claiming.

Your head tilts back against the pillows, exposing the soft line of your throat, and I can’t resist leaning down to press my lips there, my teeth grazing just enough to make you shiver. "I love you," I murmur against your skin, my breath hot and unsteady as I lose myself in the feel of you—soft, warm, and utterly mine. "You’re always so good. Always what I need."

Your hands reach for me, clutching at my back, my arms, as though trying to ground yourself in the storm of sensation. I can feel the tremble in your fingers, the way your nails dig into my skin, and it only makes me want you more. I tilt your chin up with one hand, forcing your hazy eyes to meet mine, and the sheer vulnerability in your gaze makes my chest ache with love and pride. "Look at me," I command softly. "Don’t look away. I want to see you when you fall apart."

You nod, barely, your lips parted as though to speak, but no words come. Instead, you gasp as I adjust the angle of my thrusts, finding that perfect spot that makes your whole body arch against me. "There it is," I murmur, a satisfied smile curling my lips as I watch you unravel. "That’s my girl. Take it for me. Let me see how good I can make you feel."

Your breath comes in short, uneven gasps, your hands clutching desperately at the sheets as I push you closer and closer to the edge. I can feel it in the way your body tightens, the way your legs tremble around me, the way you whisper my name like a prayer. "You’re so close, aren’t you, baby?" I ask, my voice low and filled with promise. "Let go for me. I want to feel you fall apart."

With a shuddering gasp, you do. You’re completely mine in this moment, and the sight of you like this—flushed and vulnerable, wrapped in the trust you’ve given me—fills me with a love so deep it’s almost overwhelming.

Your body tenses, then melts beneath me, your soft cries filling the air as you reach your peak. I hold you through it, my hands steady on your hips, my movements slowing just enough to let you ride the waves of your release. "That’s it," I whisper, my lips brushing against your ear. "So beautiful. So perfect."

You’re trembling when I finally still, your chest rising and falling in shallow breaths, your body soft and pliant beneath me. I press a series of gentle kisses to your forehead, your cheeks, your lips, my touch tender as I help guide you back down. "You did so well for me," I murmur, brushing a stray strand of hair from your face. "I’m so proud of you, my love."

I pull out slowly, careful not to disturb the quiet bliss that’s settled over you. You whimper softly at the loss, your hands reaching for me instinctively, and I smile, gathering you into my arms. I hold you close, wrapping the blanket around us as I settle back onto the bed, letting you rest against my chest. "You’re safe," I murmur, stroking your hair in slow, soothing motions. "You’re mine. You’ve always been mine."

[the-queen-of-hell-666]

Big Boy

Kinktober 2023 - Day 3

Pairing: Beefy!Bucky Barnes x Petite!Fem!Reader

Kink: Size Kink

Word Count: 1.9k

Summary: You meet Bucky in Romania and you show him a good time for the first time in 70 years.

Warnings: explicit language, explicit sexual content (unprotected sex, unprotected vaginal sex, vaginal sex, creampie, oral sex (f! receiving) , hickies, size kink, overstimulation, missionary), slight!inexperienced!Bucky, lots of fluff, smitten!Bucky

a/n: Hello everyone! Here is Day 3! I'm working on the days I missed but it might be a while! Hope you enjoy!

Banners by @vase-of-lilies

Bucky has been in Romania for almost a year and he liked his crappy apartment, taking odd jobs, but his favorite thing to do was come down to the fruit market outside of his apartment. His favorite stand was the plum and baked goods stand run by you. The most beautiful dame he’s ever seen and he loves talking to you because you listen and treat him normally, not like a freak which everyone else treats him like. They avoid him like the plague and don’t ever talk to him but you? You will stand and talk to him for hours no matter how many people avoid your booth but you couldn’t care less. He was so charming and yet with a shyness that you found it so adorable. You would talk his ear off which he found adorable and he did want to ask you out, he was terrified if his past caught up to him then you would get hurt in the crossfire. 

But then, you asked him out for a cup of coffee. He said yes. Then one date turned into two and now it was after your fourth date that he found himself in your small house outside of the city. It was small but neat, wall to wall bookshelves, somewhat modern kitchen with a cozy reading nook in the bay window and it was perfect. It smelled like you making him calm as your scent surrounds him. You walked over with two cups of tea and handed him one as you sat down beside him. 

“I know it’s not much but it’s home.” You said as you sip your tea. He smiled and shook his head, “It’s beautiful, doll. It represents you.” He said as he sipped his tea then set the cup down. 

You set your mug down and turned to face him, “I have a confession.” 

He suddenly became a little nervous but swallowed silently. “What’s going on?”

You took a deep breath and bit your lip before speaking, “I know this is only our fourth date and I don’t want to rush or anything but… I really want you, tonight.” You whispered as you peered up at his curious blue eyes. 

“O-oh, doll. I-I would love to, it’s just it’s been a while and I’m not sure how well I would… um… perform.” He said hesitantly and you nodded as you listened. 

“I totally understand that and we don’t have to do anything tonight. I just wanted to bring up the subject.” You whispered sheepishly but his super hearing caught it and he sighed but gave you a warm smile. 

“How about we start and you just show me what you like?” He offered with a genuine smile which made your heart warm. 

You nodded and bit your lip, “I would like that.” You smiled and you slowly leaned over to cup his cheek with one hand and your lips ghosted over his. 

You leaned up to press a soft and loving kiss to his lips. Bucky’s cheeks warmed as you went slow with him and his large hands grasped your waist gently and helped you straddle his lap as you two continued to kiss passionately and slowly. He smiled against your lips and he pulled back to kiss down your jaw and neck slowly remembering the few times he was with a girl and how they liked their neck kissed. You gasped softly as you felt his teeth gently graze against your skin, your hands moved up to his hair combing through it gently feeling the soft locks through your fingers. He had washed his hair for tonight because you two were going to a fancy restaurant so he decided to get cleaned up for you which he’s thankful he did. 

You pulled his head back up to kiss his lips passionately as you moved your hands down to start unbuttoning his shirt slowly, once undone you ran your hands up his chest softly. He froze under your touch as you got close to his metal arm and you felt him tense and you pulled away to look up at him. 

“What’s wrong?” You asked cupping his face gently.

“I… um… lost my arm in the war and it’s really messed up.” He said self-consciously as he laid his head back on the couch. 

You sighed and pulled his face down to look you in your eyes. “I don’t care about scars or missing limbs or anything like that. You are the sweetest man I’ve ever met and no matter what you look like, it doesn’t matter to me. I like you for you.” You whispered to him and he smiled softly as his chest warmed with your words and he leaned down and kissed you passionately. You smiled against his lips and pulled him closer and your hands moved back under his shirt and pushed it off his shoulders and you pulled away to look at his bare chest. “You’re so handsome.” You whispered as you caressed his chest and up to his shoulders. You leaned up to kiss his lips deeply and he smiled against your lips and his large hands squeezed your hips softly as he held you close to him. 

He looked down at your small body on his lap, he loved how small you were compared to him. It turned him on like he’s never been before, not before the war, not ever. He felt an overwhelming attraction to you, you were his diamond in the rough and he just wished that this wouldn’t be ruined, but he didn’t want to think of that, he just wanted to enjoy the moment with you. To feel your small body pressed against him having him get the skin to skin contact he craves. 

He unzipped your dress and let it pool around your hips revealing your dark blue lace bra and a peak at your matching panties making Bucky groan softly and he leaned down and pressed kisses to the tops of your breasts as his hands squeezed the meat of your thighs. “You’re so beautiful, doll. So soft and small.” He whispered against your breasts as his strong hands moved down to help you shimmy out of your dress. You reached behind you to unhook your bra and threw it somewhere in the room making Bucky groan at your newly revealed skin. “You’re going to kill me, doll.”

You giggled and wrapped your arms around his neck and pulled him down to kiss him passionately, your breasts pressed against his bare chest. “Take me to bed, Jamie.” You whispered against his lips making him smirk and scoop you up without any effort. You squealed softly as you wrapped yourself around his chest and he carried you to your bedroom down the hall before gently placing you on the bed. He pulled away and finished taking off his shirt then unbuckled his jeans and undoing them as you slid back against the pillows and let your knees fall open for him. 

He growled softly before he quickly kicked off his jeans before climbing onto the bed and laid in between your legs pulling them over his shoulders as his lips pressed soft kisses to your inner thighs making you gasp softly at the sensitivity. “You’re so soft and pretty, sweets. Can’t believe I have you to myself.” He mumbled against your skin, making you smile wider. 

“Sweet talker.” You smiled as you threaded your fingers through his hair tugging him closer to where you wanted him. 

His hands reached up to yank your panties down and off your body, revealing your soaked folds to him making him groan low in his throat and he pulled you closer by your thighs. His lips engulfed your clit sucking softly making your hips jolt up and his tongue moved down to lick through your folds. You cried out softly arching your back against his face as his tongue slid through your folds and up to your clit. The coil in your belly started to tighten as his lips sucked on your sensitive bud making your hips buck up and you pulled his face closer to your cunt by his hair. He doubled his efforts as he felt your cunt pulse against his tongue making your moans grow louder and you arched against him. The coil tightened as you were pushed over the edge cumming hard on his face making him groan as your taste flooded his senses. He helped you through your orgasm as your thighs shook around his head and he pulled away with your juices on his face and a smirk crossing his lips. 

“You taste so sweet, doll.” He purred as he climbed up your body to connect his lips with yours as his hands pulled your legs up around his waist. You helped him shuffle off his boxers as you two made out and he held you close to him. His large body covering you and pressing you against the mattress which helped ground you as you felt his thick cock press against your weeping hole. 

“You feel huge, baby.” You whispered as you pulled away from his lips to lock eyes with his blue ones. 

“It might be a tight fit.” He chuckled, making you smile and kiss him deeply and you reached down to help him line his cock up to your hole. He slowly started sliding the thick mushroom tip of his cock into you making you moan and your eyes water at the burn. “Deep breaths, baby doll.” He whispered as he wrapped his arms around your waist and gently pressed you against his chest. He slowly continued to slide into your tight cunt groaning at your walls squeezing him tightly and he leaned down to kiss you deeper. 

“A-ah, so big. H-hurts.” You whimpered quietly and he reached down to rub your clit softly helping turn your pain into pleasure. 

“I’m right here. I got you.” He whispered against your lips as he rested his forehead against yours. He finally slid all the way home making him groan and moan at your walls clenching and pulsing around his cock. You moaned his name and whimpered softly at the underlying pain but your pleasure overtook the pain and eventually the pain went away and you pleaded with him to start moving. 

Bucky linked your fingers through his and pinned them above your head and slowly started thrusting in and out of you. You moaned his name as you arched your back and squeezed his hands. He groaned as your walls sucked him in as he pulled out then thrusted back in. Your eyes locked and he pressed a warm kiss to your lips making you purr softly. He pulled back to look down at your lower belly as he thrusted in and out of you, you had a slight bulge to your belly as Bucky slid into you and out making you whimper at the stimulation to your g-spot. 

He slowly took you apart piece by piece making you moan and whimper and cum over and over again on his cock. He loved to hold you close as he made you cum and feel every twitch and shake of your body. He finally couldn’t hold his orgasm back and came deep inside of your overstimulated cunt and made sure that you took all of his cum and he held you close as you crashed from your highs together. He helped you to the bathroom to clean you two up then you two laid on the bed together. You laying on his chest as his large hands traced shapes on your bare back making you smile and snuggle closer to him, happy to stay with him forever no matter what tries to pull you two apart.

[cece693]

I absolutely loved well mannered son. I think it was some of your best work. I hope we have a sequel

Well Mannered Son Pt. 2 (Norman Bates x M! Reader)

Thanks for the sweet words. I initially wanted it to just be a stand-alone, but then I thought about it and wanted to show more of Norman's psycho side.

link to part one

After that kiss, Norman's world spiraled into a hazy blur, where nothing seemed real except the lingering warmth of your lips against his own. He clung to that memory, obsessively replaying it like a film loop in his mind—the taste of you, the heat of your breath, the way your hands had pulled him in as though you couldn’t bear to let him go. The vacancy sign outside flickered through the rain-streaked window, casting dim shadows that danced across the motel room. The storm was relentless, drumming steadily against the roof, keeping others at bay while he indulged in the fantasy of what could be.

But then, the loud chime of the door’s bell shattered his dreamlike state, snapping him back to reality. His heart clenched when he heard your voice mingling with another, lighter and sickeningly sweet. His eyes darted outside, narrowing when he saw you speaking to a woman. Marion, she had said her name was. Pretty, young, with a smile that shone through the rain as she leaned in just a little too close.

Norman’s jaw tightened, his knuckles whitening as he gripped the windowsill. The way she stood there, flirting with you so brazenly… and you didn’t push her away. You didn’t tell her you were his. No, instead, you just stood there and let her laugh, let her touch your arm like she had any right to. It was maddening. If you had kissed him, it had to mean something, didn’t it? That you loved him? That you wanted him? There was no other explanation.

"Look at her, Norman," Mother's voice slithered through his thoughts, dripping with scorn. "She's trying to steal him away. She thinks she can take what's yours. Are you just going to stand there and let it happen?"

For once, her words felt like a welcome comfort, wrapping around his mind like a cocoon. She was right. He wasn’t going to let some cheap little nobody take you away from him. You were his. It was fate. And fate wouldn’t be denied—not by some worthless girl who had wandered into the wrong place at the wrong time.

"There’s only one way to deal with a trespasser, Norman," Mother whispered, her tone laced with dark approval. "Make sure she never touches what’s yours again." The thought was a sudden, visceral rush, adrenaline coursing through him as he grabbed the knife.

When the deed was done, Marion’s lifeless eyes stared back at him from the blood-soaked bathroom floor. Her face was a grotesque mask of shock, a silent accusation that no longer held any power. Norman stood over her, breathing heavily, the metallic tang of blood filling the air, but instead of the usual horror that followed these moments, there was only calm. Satisfaction. A perverse kind of pride in knowing that he had protected what was his. She would never come between you again. No one would.

When you appeared in the doorway, Norman’s heart lurched. There you were, the object of his every fevered thought, every restless night. Your gaze swept over the scene, taking in the gore with a calm that seemed to resonate through the air. There was no revulsion in your eyes, no fear—just a faint glimmer of amusement, a dark fondness as you stepped closer, your boots leaving faint, bloody prints on the tile.

"You really didn’t like her, did you?" Your voice was low, a teasing growl that sent a shudder down Norman’s spine. You reached out, your hand curling around his jaw, tilting his face up to meet your gaze. Your touch was firm, commanding, making his breath hitch.

"I—I couldn’t let her take you," Norman stammered, his wide eyes glistening with a frantic devotion that bordered on madness. He leaned into your touch like a starving man who had finally found his sustenance. "You're mine…I…I know you feel it too. You have to…You wouldn’t have kissed me if you didn’t love me."

Your chuckle was dark, vibrating against his skin as you leaned in closer, your lips brushing against his ear. "I never said I didn’t like it, Norman," you murmured, your voice dripping with amusement. "It’s adorable, really, how far you'd go just to keep me."

Norman’s breath hitched, his pupils dilating as your words washed over him like a caress. Your approval was intoxicating, making his pulse race and his limbs tremble with a strange mixture of fear and desire. The knife slipped from his hand, clattering to the floor as you pulled him closer, crashing your lips into his with a raw, possessive intensity that made his head spin.

"I’m not going anywhere," you whispered against his mouth, your fingers threading through his hair and tightening just enough to make him gasp. "But know that I also will kill whoever thinks they can steal you away from me."

[totheblood]

begging for rain. (one)

󠁐# ONE; the more you wait

PAIRING: ex!ellie williams x nextdoorneighbor!reader

SUMMARY: moving to a new town can be tough, especially as you are trying to hold everything in your life together. after you meet ellie, your life completely changes, but for the better? well that's still up in the air

WARNINGS: mentions of death, grief, related subjects; cursing, mentions of drinking/drugs, mentions of s*x,

WORD COUNT: 2.6k

A/N :new story... this is inspired by some dreams i had and the song begging for rain, by maggie roggers! an amazing song... this will be angsty and fluffy and will spend some time flipping in between past and present! hope u enjoy… AI AUDIOS AT THE END ! please please please like and reblog/reply/send asks, comments, the whole nine yards… it is so appreciated!

2 YEARS AGO

The fall came quicker than you expected.

Your days were overcast, filled with warm tea that quickly turned cold the longer you let it sit. Some days you held the pink and white cup firmly in your hands, fingers warming from the hot liquid inside. On other days you forgot the cup was even there. 

The house was big and lonely. It felt as if you had examined every crack in the walls, and memorized the creak of every step. You were going to get to know this house as if it were your own because it was. You moved in late summer, your mom hauling luggage from the door, making some comment about you only bringing in the light boxes. You rolled your eyes and helped anyways. You didn’t want to be here, but you weren’t going to let your mom know that.

The house was in a nice neighborhood, with a good school district. Your mom did as much research as she could before buying this house, making some weird charts on Excel and plugging in numbers. You had a hefty inheritance from your dad, but now that he was gone and your house was down an income, your mother was doing what she had to. She bought the house in full, with no mortgage and no problem. This was her plan and it was the one that ensured you had the best chance of going to a good college.

You didn’t like the idea of moving to a new town and starting over, but you knew your dad’s death was hard on your mom and you didn’t want to be the cause of anymore discomfort for her. So you left your childhood friends, and bedroom and packed what you could in the ten boxes provided to you.

Your new room was simple, but fairly big. It had a bay window with a floral lined cushion in the seat. The walls were painted cream, and in the center of your room lay your bedframe and mattress. It was so empty, and everything about it felt so cold. Directly from your window, you could see into the house next to you. In the room you could see, the walls were a dark blue, littered with posters you couldn’t quite see from the distance. The room was messy, with clothes littered all over the room. From what you could see a white electric guitar was on a stand, right by the window. Then, almost as if she knew you were there, a girl stepped into view. Shaggy neck-length brown hair, half tied up into a bun. Suddenly, you felt like a creep as she stared at you, mouth slightly open as if she was caught. Almost instantly you turned around, embarrassment flooding your features.

You weren’t a creep, and this wasn’t something you did often. You were just curious, and it got the best of you sometimes. You decided that the curtains would be the first thing you hung up, not for your safety but for your neighbours safety.

You had everything situated that night, floral sheets on the mattress and books all tucked into the built in bookshelf. Your lamp illuminated from the corner of the room, making the whole room glow orange. You had pictures of your old friends on your bedside table, next to a picture of you and your dad. You winced as you looked at it. 

A small knock shook you from your thoughts. Your mom, in her pajamas, stood in the doorway, arms crossed across her chest.

“How do you like your room, honey?” She questioned, warm eyes following you as you sat on your bed.

“It’s nice,” you rubbed at the blanket at the edge of your bed, “I like it.”

“I know this isn’t idea-”

“Mom, it’s fine-”

“What did I tell you about interrupting?” Her eyebrows raised as she shot you a look, her posture straightening. You rolled your eyes.

“Sorry,” you grumbled, avoiding eye contact with her.

“I know this isn’t ideal, and you are giving up a lot to be here, but,” she shook her head, looking down at her own feet, “this is a nice town with nice people and a good school. It’s what your dad would’ve wanted for you.” 

You winced again at the mention of your dad. You opened your mouth to speak but were quickly shut up by the sound of the doorbell. It sounded loud and hollow, something you would have to get used to. Your mom looked down the hallway, fixing to ignore the sound before it rang again. This time you got up to follow her. When she opened the wooden door, there stood the brunette girl from earlier and an older gruff looking man holding a container. 

“Hey, um,” He smiled at your mom before looking at you with your arms crossed behind her, “we’re your next-door neighbors and we saw you moving in. Wanted to welcome ourselves and bring you a little somethin’.”

The man pushed forward the container and your mom happily took it, smiling and gesturing for them to come in. 

“Come on in,” she smiled, stepping to the side, completely ignoring the look you were shooting her, “I’m Melissa and this is my daughter, Y/n.”

You smiled, pursing your lips and giving a small wave to both of them. 

“Well, I’m Joel,” He smiled, nodding at you and gesturing toward the younger girl next to him. “This is Ellie, think she’s about your kid’s age.”

“Well, missy here is about to go into her senior year,” your mom boasted as she gripped your arms shaking you a little, making you roll your eyes.

“So is Ellie,” He chuckled slightly, wrapping his arms around Ellie and causing her to groan, “maybe she can help… Y/n? Was it? Out with school this year.” 

Ellie’s eyes widened as she turned around to look at him, giving him a dirty glare. 

“In fact, how about Ellie here drives her to school tomorrow?” His smile was tight-lipped as he firmly tapped Ellie’s shoulder.

“You don’t have t-” your mom started.

“Don’t be silly. Ellie would love to.” 

Ellie, in fact, did not look like she wanted to. She also didn’t look quite friendly either and you were unsure if this was the best introduction to your new neighborhood.

“We leave at seven,” Ellie’s voice was flat as she gave you a fake smile, Joel smiling brightly at your mother.

“Cool, thanks,” was all you said before taking the metal tray from your mom and into the kitchen. The introductions were awkward but at least you weren’t going to have to find the school on your own. 

The next morning you woke up early, washed your face, did your hair, and pulled on your best outfit for school. Your mom had bought you new Dr. Martens as an “I’m sorry I uprooted your life” gift and you made a mental note to thank her for that again sometime later.

You took a granola bar to go and the packed lunch your mom had made you the night before. You smiled to yourself as you took it, knowing you wouldn’t see her till late that night. She had left early that morning, not wanting to be late for her first shift at the hospital. You were secretly hoping it was going well. 

As you stepped outside, the fog surrounded you, making you even more grateful to Ellie. You crossed the dirt path between the houses and stepped onto their patio, knocking on the white door as you gripped your backpack straps. Ellie opened the door, face as unwelcoming as yesterday. She wore a blue flannel that loosely hung open with a white band tee on the inside. Her baggy jeans were ripped and frayed at the ends, meeting the black Converse at her feet. She had a distinct style, and she looked good in it. 

“You ready to go?” Ellie asked, pulling her keys out and unlocking the jeep parked in the driveway. Nice car. 

“Um, yeah,” You quietly said, following her down the steps and into the car. If she was just as quiet as you were planning on being, this wouldn’t work. You got yourself situated in the car, tucking your backpack under the seat as you smiled at Ellie. When the car started up her music started automatically playing, “Be Quiet and Drive” blasting through the speakers. She turned it down a little, to be polite. Nice, you thought.

“Thanks for driving me,” You started, watching as she turned her head to check for oncoming cars as she pulled out the driveway, “I know you might not have wanted to, but I really appreciate it.”

“Eh,” Ellie shrugged, eyes focused on the road, “It’s not a big deal. It’s not like I had to pick you up or anything.”

“But still,” you sighed, “I appreciate it.”

Ellie just mumbled a your welcome before tapping her fingers to the music on the wheel. 

“I love Deftones,” you commented, making Ellie turn towards you, looking you up and down.

“You? Really?” She laughed, stopping at a red light. 

“What’s that supposed to mean?” You asked, your tone taking a little bit of a bite to it.

“Hey, hey. Just saying I didn’t get that vibe from you.” It was your turn to roll your eyes.

“And what exactly is the vibe you get from me?” 

“Girl next door,” Ellie laughed to herself, shaking her head a little, “quite literally.”

“I don’t know what that means, but I’m choosing to take it as a compliment.” 

The car was silent for a moment as Ellie made her way down some backstreets, occasionally looking over at you to see you on your phone. 

“Um,” she cleared her throat, “what’s your favorite song by them?” 

“Probably ‘Cherry Waves’, basic I know,” you shrugged, focusing your attention on her.

“Not basic. It’s a good song,” she gave you a smile. Finally. “You have good taste.”

“Thanks,” you finally smiled.

“For a stalker,” She added on, chuckling a bit causing you to gasp.

“Oh my god,” you groaned, shoving your face in your hands. “I wasn’t stalking you, I was just looking out my window.”

“And right into my room!” you could tell she was just teasing, making you shake your head as you laughed.

“It was in my line of sight,” you leaned forward, looking at her smiling, “plus if I knew you were in there I wouldn’t have looked.”

“That’s exactly what a stalker would say,” her smile was spread across her face as her jeep pulled into the parking lot of the school. Busses were lined up in front, kids piling out and talking to each other as if they knew each other for years. It was all so normal, nothing like your nightmares. 

“No, that defeats the whole point of stalking!”

PRESENT DAY

Summer had finally come around, the end of your first year in college coming to an abrupt end. You were excited to be home, but your stomach churned at the thought of being so close to Ellie again. She was right there, and all the willpower you had was slowly disappearing. 

You knew you didn’t want to see her, and that maybe she had stopped missing you. But both of those things were slightly untrue. You knew if you saw her, your knees would become weak again and you would be crawling across your lawn and straight into her lap. That wasn't an option. That couldn’t be an option.

She had called you again just two nights ago, and she sounded almost sure of herself. You knew she was probably high, and you knew she meant every word she said. It didn’t stop the pain from gripping at your chest when you told her you wanted nothing to do with her.

“You picked up.”

“What do you want, Ellie?” you rolled your eyes, as you felt your chest tightening.

“I come home in a few days, I want to see y-”

“That’s not happenin-”

“Cherry, please,” she sounded so desperate and so sincere. The use of your nickname didn’t help.

“Don’t call me that.”

“Look, I messed up. I know that. I have been apologizing every day for that. I fucking miss you. Nothing is the same and if I am just inches away from you I don’t know if I’ll be able to control myself. I miss you, I miss how you fucking smelled, how you tast-”

“Ellie, stop,” you cut her off abruptly, screwing your eyes shut as you took a deep breath to steady yourself, “this is pathetic. You’re acting like a fucking loser and it’s not at all attractive. Move on. Find someone else to whine over. Anyone else.”

“No one is you.”

“You should have thought of that before you-”

“Can we not talk about that?”

“No, we have to. If you ever want to see me again we will have to talk about it,” you were being mean, you were worse before but Ellie never seemed to care, she just kept begging, “I will maybe hear you out if we talk about it, but other than that, I don’t want to see you.”

“Fine.” Click. She hung up the phone, as she usually did when the situation was brought up. It was a surefire way to get her to leave you alone. 

As you pulled your luggage out of the backseat of your car, you looked up to Ellie’s window. Surely, enough she was standing there, staring down at you. You couldn’t quite read the expression on her face, but she quickly disappeared from the window, closing the curtains. 

Dragging your luggage inside, you stopped when you saw Joel sitting at your dining room table. 

“Joel,” you said simply, looking around for your mother who came rushing out of the kitchen at the sound of your voice. Joel simply nodded at you, giving you a pained smile as your mother bombarded you with a hug. 

‘My baby!” She squeezed you tight, making you groan. “You’re finally home.”

“Melissa, let the kid breathe,” Joel chuckled, standing up to walk over to you and give you a hug from the side. He was limping, that was new. 

��Hey, kiddo,” he took a step back from you and your mom, looking at the both of you, “you’re getting so old, you look just like your mother.” 

“I’ve always looked like her,” you corrected him, looking around the room to spot any changes your mom might have made while you were away. Your eyes stopped on a picture of Ellie and you from the fall fair your senior year. You always had this picture in your phone, but now it was blown up and framed, right next to a picture of your dad. You winced. “What the fuck is that? Why is there a picture of me and Ellie hung up in here?” 

“Watch your language, missy,” your mom scolded, lifting up a finger to wag at you, “and because I like the picture, it’s nice.”

“Take it dow-”

“You can’t still possibly be on this-”

“Take it down, or I will,” your tone was sharp, causing your mom to take a step back and look at Joel. You eyed her for a moment before turning to go up the stairs, dragging your heavy suitcase up the stairs. Joel rushed over to help you, reaching for the handle. You quickly grasped it out of reach.

“I can do it myself,” you snapped, shooting him a glare and bringing it up the stairs with you. Everyone here wanted to forgive Ellie, but you weren’t ready for that.

You weren’t sure if you ever would be.

[lyonnerileyauthor]

So I Married an Alien

this is coming out in July, but I'm an asshole so here is a teaser from the first chapter.

They didn’t mention that the husband they were sending me would have four arms. I feel like the number of arms is an important thing to bring up when pairing you with a potential life partner. Would the extra arms have made a difference if I had known? I’m not sure.

But I should have known before we were supposed to get married.

Said extra arms are folded across his chest as we stand there on opposite sides of the meeting room, the lower pair hanging at his sides. The arms aren’t the most arresting thing about him, though. His skin is a bright blue-purple, like the night sky right after sunset. A pair of short stalks on his head twitch and bob as he regards me. Does he really have freaking antennae?

In the next room, we’ll get married, or so the matchmaker told me. But it’s really just a ceremony, and we won’t sign the papers until the thirty-day trial period is up—er, actually, I think it’s one of those fancy tablets all the aliens have. 

Then we’ll officially be husband and wife. If we make it that long.

My groom is dressed in a smudged-up uniform that covers his shoulders and thighs, strapped around the middle with a belt. It’s the same sort of thing the matchmaker is wearing where he stands between us, and the same thing that most aliens who visit Earth seem to wear.

The galaxy has very mid fashion sense.

Gazargo, who is also a weird alien but not quite as weird as my new husband, hops off the stool that keeps him at eye level with us. Now I have to peer down to look into his squat face.

“Roth’kar, this is Amara,” Gazargo says, gesturing at each of us as he names us. “Amara, this is Roth’kar.”

I hold out a hand to shake, which seems like the polite thing to do. Roth’kar stares down at my hand with his strange, ethereal-blue eyes, then back up at me.

Gazargo clears his throat. “They do not have handshakes in Karthinian culture,” he tells me. “She is trying to greet you, Roth’kar. How do you do it where you come from?”

The four-armed alien—hmm, I should probably try to call him by his name—brings both pairs of hands to his chest and lifts his chin, closing his eyes briefly.

“That is how we greet one another formally,” Roth’kar says in a deep, booming voice.

Wow, is that voice even stranger than his eyes. It’s almost hollow, reverberating through my bones. I’ve never heard anything like it, as if he’s playing an instrument.

I imitate his gesture, placing my hands on my chest and lifting my chin, and say, “It’s good to meet you, Roth’kar.”

The corner of his mouth tweaks upward. That’s good. I think that’s a smile, though I can’t take anything for granted with an alien. Wish I’d gotten some kind of primer on his species before this so I didn’t look like an idiot, but here we are.

“Now that you’ve met, let’s get on to the ceremony,” Gazargo says. He waddles away to the adjoining room, and Roth’kar nods at me to walk through the door first when we reach it at the same time. Up close, I realize how tall he is, almost whole head higher than I am, and I’m a fairly tall girl.

On the other side of the door is yet another dimly-lit room, this time with a small window that looks out onto the docking bay. This is where spaceships come and go, a port that was built not long after first contact was made. 

The first aliens we met were all like Gazargo—small, gray, and kind of wrinkled with a face like a turtle. They’d gotten a permit from the Intergalactic Association of Civilizations to make contact with us so they could try to sell us… well, stuff.

That was how it started, anyway. Those aliens, the Frahma, opened the door for other alien species to take note of us. We had a unique plight here on Earth after the RVS plague, one that called for out-of-towners to be imported to fill the need. And so eventually, Gazargo established his matchmaking service.

That’s what the Frahma are good at. I think they could figure out a way to sell you your own clothes.

Gazargo leads us to a pedestal, gesturing for each of us to stand to one side of it, about two feet apart. Then he climbs up steps on the back until he’s about eye level with us, and pulls out a tablet to read.

“On this day, the twenty-seventh of May, on this year of twenty twenty-nine, I hereby match Amara Knox, with Roth’kar the Fifth of His Name. These two will join in matrimony, to build a home together, and—”

As the words go on, outside thoughts start to pour in. Roth’kar isn’t looking at me. He’s glaring intently at Gazargo, as if willing him to get to the end of his schpiel faster. At least we have that in common. I want this to be over just as much.

I was so excited about this, so ready to finally have a companion in life and a chance to fall in love. But now that I’m seeing Roth’kar with my own eyes—all four arms of him—I’m second-guessing myself. He looks unhappy to be here, and I hope he wasn’t compelled or coerced into coming. I know nothing about Karthinians, so I’m going to have to start from scratch on that front.

I got a futon for my office, since we don’t know each other yet and inviting a strange alien into my bed seemed like we’d be moving a little too fast. But imagining it in my head, I’m sure the futon won’t nearly be big enough for Roth’kar. I’ll have to trade with him and sleep on it myself while he has my bed.

“Amara?” Gazargo asks, startling me out of my thoughts. “It’s time?”

Time for what? I search my mind for what’s entailed in a wedding ceremony.

“Oh! Right.” I had rings made for us. The one thing the matchmaker did give me was Roth’kar’s ring size. I pull out the box and remove both rings, which earns a curious look from Roth’kar’s freaky blue eyes.

“What are these?” he asks, peering closer at them.

“It’s an Earth tradition, one of them,” Gazargo says, plucking the rings from my fingers. He exchanges them, so now I’m holding Roth’kar’s ring, and my new alien husband is holding mine. “Now put the ring on her hand, Roth’kar.”

The alien grunts, never looking up at me as he reaches for my hand. At least he only has five fingers—I don’t know how I’d handle six or seven on top of the double arms.

Carefully he slides the ring onto one of my fingers, the index one.

“Wrong finger,” I say gently, then wiggle my ring finger. “It goes on that one.”

With a huff of impatience, Roth’kar does as I tell him, removing the ring and then plunking it onto my ring finger, instead. He pulls away, and the simple, silver band shines in the low light.

“Your turn.” Gazargo offers me the other ring. Roth’kar holds out his hand for me as I slip the ring onto his ring finger, pushing it down until it’s seated at the base.

When I stand up straight again, Roth’kar is pointedly looking away from me, his cheeks stained a dark bluish color. He retracts his hand, flexing his fingers before it returns to his side along with, well, his other hand.

Gosh, so many hands.

Then an unbidden thought hops into my brain. If he has two sets of arms… does he also have two…?

I can’t think like that. We’re strangers. It will take some time for us to get to know each other, which we’ll have to do before any funny business can happen.

“And now, you say your commitments,” Gazargo instructs.

“Commitments?” Roth’kar’s brow pinches. “I am committed now.”

“Yes, yes, they are just nice things to say before you agree to the marriage.” Gazargo waves a hand dismissively. “Come up with something.”

“I’ll go first,” I interject, because I actually wrote something down and rehearsed it at home. “Roth’kar.” I address him directly. “I promise I will be honest with you, sometimes even when you don’t want to hear it. I promise to be loyal to you, unless it’s at a game of Bullshit. I promise to cherish you, and have no others, until death do us part.”

Roth’kar’s mouth drops open.

“Until death do us part?” he repeats, horrified.

“It’s a common phrase in human matrimony,” Gazargo says. “Now, yours, Roth’kar.”

The alien flexes his throat like he wants to speak, but all the words he had are gone.

“Uh,” he says, then curses something in his own tongue that the translator can’t pick up. “I will also, erm, cherish you, and be loyal to you.” He doesn’t mention anything about honesty. “I will do all my due diligences as your husband, as they are called for.”

What? As they are called for? What is he talking about?

“Oh, all right.” I try to smile. “That’s nice.”

“Do you take Roth’kar to be your lawful husband?” Gazargo asks me.

I nod. This is what I signed up for, after all. “I do.”

“And do you, Roth’kar, take Amara to be your lawful wife?”

Those glowing eyes settle on my face, and I wonder who he is under that indifferent expression, and if he’ll show me.

Eventually, he nods and says, “I do.”

[ghostodyssey]

Hold Me Like Water, Hold Me Like A Knife | Teaser

Ghost x Soap x Female Reader 1k words warnings: ghoap established relationship, nanny!reader, allusions to domestic abuse, possible references to sexual abuse/non-con in later chapters (not ghoap), eventual smut.

I was born on a day like this, I think. 

Storm-streaked he had called me once. If only he could see me now, wind beaten and with the acrid taste of seafret on my lips. These days I am more storm than woman. Because who can become the water without inheriting its violence, or its loneliness.

The Greeks said that water is the element of love. That Aphrodite herself was born from the pearlescent seafoam of the Kytherian sea. Born to be cruel and beautiful, and fearless. 

Looking out at the water now, fear is all I know.

The sky is streaked in veins of charcoal, indigo and jade that bleed into the vast, black tapestry of the sky, where the horizon meets the North Sea. A cruel wind tears through the narrow streets of the small, coastal town like a maelstrom and I cast my eyes skyward at the peal of thunder. When I was a girl, my grandfather taught me to count the moments between the cacophony of thunder and the flashes of lightning that flower like bruises along the skyline, so that I knew how many miles away it might be. I know now that I am standing in the eye of the storm.

In these quiet moments where reality abates me, I find myself adrift. Lost in a sea of memories. The mournful recollections of a home long gone. If it was ever real to begin with.

I clutch at the folder in my arms, cradling it in a vain attempt to protect it from the elements. The documents and references inside are all I have left. My destination looms in front of me like a taunt. 

The townhouse is nestled into a quiet corner of the sleepy coastal town, its slate facade rendering it rather unremarkable at first glance. However, at closer inspection, I notice the care with which this house has been made into a home. The large bay windows on the ground floor have been wreathed in greenery. Climbing ivy and primrose, which douses the house in the smell of honey and petrichor. A short wall fences off the small garden from the road. The yard itself is well maintained. If a little clinical, save for the myriad of childrens toys strewn about the lawn. 

I remain for a moment a solitary figure at the entryway of the property, contemplating the unfortunate series of events that had led me here. Further North than I have ever been. With little more than the clothes on my back and notes stashed frantically in my worn leather purse. The thought occurs to me then, that I have made a mistake in coming here.

The job posting had been painfully vague. Full-time nanny wanted. Room and board can be provided. Prior experience preferred. The distant postcode and generous wage had quickly assuaged any lingering doubts that had festered in my mind. 

I approach the townhouse’s pale, blue door tentatively. I knock thrice and the resounding silence gives me leave for my mind to wander. I stare down at the sleeves of my faded navy dress as it clings uncomfortable to my arms; the threads around the cuffs have begun to fray, the fabric falls strangely around the swell of my hips, and it is missing its top button. Shame pools in my stomach at its unsightly reflection, discoloured and sunbleached from years of use. 

Memory comes back with the swiftness of the tide. I am a girl again, coloured in the seraphic, blue light of a hospital room. I feel his hands, marred and mottled with rage, holding me down. The sounds of my screams as my dress is torn away from my heaving chest -- I had been a dreamer then. Aching and sentimental. Filled with the kind of naivety only possessed by green girls and soft-hearted poets. 

The girl I was is dead now. The woman that stands in her place had been forged of blood, and splintered bone-- made strong by violence and tempered by time. 

I’m still staring at my reflection in the glass when the door to the townhouse opens and all thought and sound eddies from my mind. The man standing in the doorway is a thing of lovely beauty. He’s built like some Greek Adonis, or perhaps Atlas holding the weight of the world on those broad shoulders. He looks as though he is carved from marble and mountain stone. The dark tresses of hair frame his fine, high cheekbones and the aquiline slope of his nose. Like something out of a painting. At last, I meet his gaze, a flash of sapphire against the pallid light of the afternoon.

For a moment silence permeates the air between us. 

“It’s bloody freezin’ bonnie, here come inside.” He welcomes me inside with the flex of a broad hand, stepping back from the door to let me in. I smile politely as I cross the threshold of the home. The smell of honeyed pears and cedar, tainted with something inherently masculine, floods my senses.

 The foyer of the spacious townhouse is beautiful; a testament to the care that has gone into making this house a home. The porch is lined with paneled wood, painted in a shade of navy only found here, in the coastal towns dotted along the Scottish border. The walls are hung with picture frames that map the long history of the family that lives here. I catalogue each one of them; candid shots of the dark haired man that span the globe, a series of drawings completed in a myriad of colourful crayon, pictures of a newborn, swaddled in pink and cradled in the tattooed arms of a masked man. By the staircase are three sets of shoes. I take it all in with a careful reverence for the love which has been contained between these walls. This place is a home. One that has been truly cherished by the people that live here. 

“You’re here for the nanny job, aye?” He asks, the calloused pads of his fingers ghosting my arm as he maneuvers me into the centre of the foyer. 

“Um ye-yes, you must be Simon?”

“He bloody wishes,” The dark haired man muses lightly, “ - nah bon, you can call me Johnny.” he says, holding out a broad palm to me. I take it tentatively and introduce myself rather clumsily. 

“So Simon is --” 

“Just through there.” Johnny interrupts, settling a hand on the small of my back and guiding me into the next room, where Simon must be waiting.